“Would you mind?” I whisper. “I don’t know him, as nice as he seems.”
“Not at all.” Dylan smiles, his eyes wrinkling at the corners. “I’ll let him know. He can talk for bloody England.”
He pushes off from the doorway, twisting to address Rob.
“I’ll drop Merry home, and then I’ll meet you on the hill. The car is quite far back. You’ll need a hand.”
“No worries, I’ll never turn down free labour,” Rob declares, winking at me. “If you leave Dylan your number, I’ll give you a ring after Christmas to see what the damage is.”
“I’ve got some gifts in the car,” I say, as Dylan nods.
“I’ll sort it. Don’t worry.”
I feel like he is constantly reassuring me, but it feels good.
“Thanks Rob.” I directed towards the cheerful man who was already halfway out of the door.
“No bother, love. Call me then, Dylan, and get Merry's number for me.”
He disappears out of the door, whistling as he does.
“He’s nice,” I say as Dylan looks over at me. “But thank you for taking me. I’m a bit wary with men I don’t know.”
“Best way,” Dylan agrees, his blue eyes locking with mine. “I don’t mind taking you back. I’ve enjoyed your company.”
My cheeks flushed as I recalled the conversation last night and the fact I practically begged him to sleep beside me.
What a mess.
“When I’m not drunk, you mean.” I laugh, and he smirks.
“Hey, I’m not complaining.”
“I’ll just grab my things,” I mumble, wanting the ground to open up. I can only remember snippets of the conversation, but I know I’ve told him I couldn’t have children.
Why would I do that?!
Ten minutes later, we’re in his truck, where it all began some days ago. The engine rumbles beneath us as Dylan stares out of the rear window, his hand on the back of my seat as he manoeuvres effortlessly off the snowy drive.
The tyres crunch as he twists the wheel, and then we’re off. I’ve texted Cassie to let her know the good news, but she hasn’t replied yet.
“You okay?” Dylan asks, glancing at me.
“Yes, thanks. You?”
“Dandy.” He grins, pointing at the road ahead. “There’s the blighter.”
Huge piles of ice and snow have been scraped aside, and a gap wide enough for one car awaits us.
“Thank you again, Dylan.”
“You thanked me last night,” Dylan says, turning to wink at me.
My mouth falls open as I gasp, unable to remember doing anything of the sort.
“What?Howdid I thank you?!” I demand as he roars with laughter.
God, he’s handsome.
