Page 10 of Taking What's Ours
Dylan is reclined on the bedspread, one arm behind his head, clicking through channels with the remote in his other hand. He’s already changed into a pair of sweats and a t-shirt that reveals two full sleeves of colorful ink I didn’t know about. The tattoos take me back, and I just stare. “Wow. You have a lot of ink.”
“Does that bother you?” He swings his bare feet to the floor, sitting on the edge.
“Just surprised is all.”
“I told you I was the black sheep.”
Parking my bag against the wall, I ignore the bad-boy vibes oozing off him. “The bathroom’s all yours.”
“Thanks.” He stands, his broad shoulders even more evident in the t-shirt stretched across them.
I wet my lips and look away, moving to the dresser and grabbing one of the complimentary bottles of water. Dylan moves past me, coming so close he almost brushes my body.
Once he’s in the bathroom, I exhale and move to the far bed, crawling under the covers and propping myself against the headboard.
The television is stopped on a documentary about the Great Pyramids of Giza which have always fascinated me. By the time Dylan comes out, I’m enthralled in the program, thankful for anything that takes my mind off everything.
He moves to his bed and tosses the remote at me. “You can change it if you want. Just no Hallmark movies, please.”
I grin. “This is fine. I’ve always wanted to see the pyramids. How cool would it be to go inside one of those tunnels.”
He looks at the screen where the host is descending through a space barely able for one person to fit through and dark except for the lights strung along to guide his descent. “Nope. No way. You wouldn’t get me in there if you paid me a million bucks.”
I giggle. “Claustrophobic?”
“Please tell me you’re not one of those people who enjoy going caving. I once went to Mammoth Cave with a buddy. No way in hell would I ever go back. And that”—he points at the screen—“is the definition of a tomb.”
“Okay, so no trip to Egypt for you. Got it.”
“Now the Grand Canyon? Hell, yeah. I’d go there.”
“I see. Huge hole in the ground. No problem. Hole underground. No way.”
“Now you get me.”
I grin. “I’m beginning to.”
“You think there are spiders in there?” he asks staring at the show.
“Gross.” I shiver, and he laughs.
“See? You don’t want to go in there now, either, do you?”
“Well, not now that you talked about spiders. Thanks for that.”
“Just lookin’ out for you.”
I roll my eyes.
He turns the lights out, and I snuggle on my pillow and watch the show. At some point my eyes grow heavy, helped along no doubt by the two martinis, plus the champagne I had at the reception. Eventually, exhaustion drags me under, and I drift off to sleep.
CHAPTER THREE
Elaina—
I crack my eyes open to the early morning light and find Dylan standing at the windows, looking at the view, dressed in jeans and a long sleeve denim shirt over a tee.
I scoot up on my pillow, and he twists to look at me.