Page 71 of The Rules

Without a second thought, he wrapped his hand around the back of her thigh, dropping it over his waist, and pushed inside of her, groaning like a man who’d been walking for miles and finally found a place to rest. When he was buried as close as he could be—their bodies pressed against each other, fingers interlaced above her head—his face finally broke out into that sweet, dimpled smile she loved so much. Her heart swelled.

Afterward, they laid in the dark of her bedroom, their breathing slow and spent. Dani pressed her nail into the center of the compass on his chest and twisted it. She’d been resting like that, her head on his shoulder, her weight draped over his torso, for fifteen minutes now. He’d only been counting because it wasn’t like her to linger. Usually, she’d jump up and throw her hair in a bun, find something to cover up all of that pretty, golden skin. Usually, they were on her couch, or in her kitchen—that kitchen island shouldn’t be used for food prep—but tonight they were in her bed and she was still in his arms.

“I like this,” she said, still tracing.

“I could tell earlier.”

She flattened her palm, the light slap echoing in her silent bedroom. Even the traffic sounds had petered out by now. “Tell me again why you got it.”

She’d asked him this when they first met. She and Sonya were on the back of his jet ski while Josh was falling in love with Cat on another. That day, he’d given her his standard line about freedom and self-direction. The one that made him sound like some philosophical adventurer. That line always worked.

“It’s the direction I never had as a kid,” he said now. He felt her shift ever so slightly and she could feel her eyes on his chin. He swallowed hard. He’d never told anyone this, but there were a lot of things he’d never done until her. “The night my father left, he screamed at my mother till he was hoarse, packing his shit in this big dramatic scene. He always wanted it to look like he was wronged, you know? Make her believe somehow she, or we, were responsible for the things he did. Anyway, right before he walked out the door, he looked me in the eye and he said ‘you’re on your own, kid.’ It was the truest thing he’d ever said to me.”

He cleared his throat and shifted her body in his arms. “Then he was gone. My mother could barely keep herself afloat, so I had to figure out how to navigate that. That’s when I realized I needed to depend on me. The compass reminds me to be my own guide, find my own way.”

He glanced down at the top of her head to see her reaction, wondering if he would see disgust or pity. But she just tightened her arm around his waist and nodded.

“I felt that way too as a kid,” she said. “Like I was flying alone.”

“Is that why you have that little bird on the back of your neck?”

She reached back and touched the ink, nodding. “But it’s got a branch underneath it. Stability. Somewhere solid to land. That’s the difference between me and my mother. She wanted me to fly, but I just wanted a nest.”

A nest. He supposed that’s what he’d wanted too when he was a kid. But then he’d grown up and realized that only a tiny percentage of people saw that side of life. And the ones who did, put up with a lot of heartbreak to get it. It was better to fly than to settle in a nest made of straw where it’s one strong breeze and you’re falling.

Though, if this was somewhere solid to land, being warm and wrapped around Dani in this bed, maybe he could just point his compass this way for a while and see what happened.

Twenty-seven

“Thank you for meeting mehere,” Mrs. Jansen said. Her white hair was pinned haphazardly around her head, and she was wearing a pair of overalls splattered in paint. Dylan followed her up the curved stairway to the top floor of the old bank, out to the balcony where Dani had won them this job.

She walked straight to the railing and leaned over.

“So you said you wanted to make an adjustment?”

“Yes.” She swept an arm over the view. “The sketches Josh sent were wonderful. I was hoping he might be able to add a water feature here, right in the center of the garden. Do you think that’s possible?”

He pulled a pen from his bag, and popped off the cap with his teeth. These types of questions could really be done over email. The job being theirs and all, it was time to hand meetings like this over to Josh, but he’d grown kind of fond of Mrs. Jansen and he hadn’t minded the trip into the city. Besides, Josh was presenting a course at a conference in a few weeks and he’d been handing everything he could off to the new guy so he could prepare for it. Dylan wasn’t sending a rookie to this building. He’d worked too hard to close them.

“I’m sure I can make that happen,” he said. He tried not to look at his watch as he jotted down her ideas. He was hoping to finagle lunch with Dani since he was there. “Let me get this back to Josh and have him email you a new file.”

“Thank you, darling. Listen, I know you’re done pitching us, and you probably have weekends full, but I wanted to invite you to another event. We’ve only just begun to put an exploratory committee together, but there’s a hotel downtown we’re thinking of bidding on. Another historical renovation. Of course, if we get it, you get it, and I’d love to have your input from the beginning.” She turned to make her way back inside, and Dylan followed. “There’s an auction there next month. My husband and I have made a donation and plan to attend. We want to use the evening to discuss the possibilities, along with the dinner and dancing. Will you and Josh join us?”

Dylan did a mental fist pump. He was already typing a text to Josh in his head to relay what she’d just said. “If we get it, you get it.”It wasn’t a signed contract, but he had a feeling Mrs. Jansen’s word was just as good.

“Absolutely,” he said. “Anything you need.”

“Excellent. I’ll send you the details. And bring Dani.”

Damn right. He couldn’t wait to tell her.

After a quick goodbye, he hustled back to his car to get out of the wind. The cold had come early. It felt like it could snow any second and it wasn’t even November.

He dialed Josh as he started the engine, blasting the heat, but he only got voicemail. “Call me back, bro. Got some Jansen news. And tell that little bun in Cat’s oven, Uncle Dylan just paid for its nursery or whatever babies want.” He hung up the phone, slightly disappointed that he’d had to put off that announcement, but he still had another call to make. He swept his thumb over the number and transferred to hands-free.

“Hey, Danica.”

Her sigh crackled over the line. “I’m gonna let that slide since you sound like you’re in a good mood. What’s up?”

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