Melt My Heart Read online

  Laura turned on the lamp next to the couch and, with the remote, switched on the flat screen TV and turned it to the Yule log channel.

  "Do you want me to build a fire?" Dylan asked.

  "You're trusting me with fire?"

  "Notice how I said do you want me to build a fire?"

  Laura laughed and inclined her head in a graceful bow. "Touché. No, I think it's too warm for a fire. I just like the ambiance."

  "Okay," Dylan said. "But don't come crying to me when you freeze tonight. It's supposed to be cold."

  "Are you offering to warm me up?"

  "No, um, I mean."

  "Well isn't that your job? You are my landlady." Laura's gaze smoldered wherever it touched Dylan's skin. She held a smile in her cheeks as she watched Dylan squirm.

  She's enjoying this.

  Once upon a time, Dylan might have enjoyed it, too. She might have said something like, I don't know who you've had for a landlady, but could you share? But now, she just stared at Laura slack-jawed, unable to think of a rejoinder that made sense. She hated this part of herself, the part that was unable to be normal in social situations.

  Laura finally dropped her gaze, braced Aaron and leaned over to pick her wine glass up by the stem. She took a sip and closed her eyes, and Dylan watched as the liquid traveled down her throat with one swallow. She found herself swallowing with her as she watched. Good lord, this woman was the most sensual woman Dylan had ever met. Everything she did, she did with grace and fluidity. How was it that she'd just had a baby mere weeks before?

  When Laura opened her eyes, Dylan realized she was staring and looked away, focusing on the Yule log fire on the TV instead.

  "So," Laura said, setting her glass down on the table. "I asked you here because I wanted to apologize, in full, with food."

  Dylan set her own wine glass down on the table. The crystal sparkled in the light from the lamp. "There's no need."

  "No, I insist. It was totally wrong of me to hit you over the head with a pitcher."

  "Is that what it was?" Dylan tried to remember, but it was hazy. "I was a little out of it when they were stitching me up."

  "I'm so sorry."

  "I'm serious, you really don't need to apologize. It's my fault."

  Laura shifted closer to Dylan, pulling her leg up on the couch and facing her fully. "Yes, I do. And I need to explain. I don't know if you're familiar with my past."

  "Nope." Dylan had dug through dozens of old articles when she was googling to see if Laura was still alive, but had skipped over them as she knew they wouldn't give her the information she needed. That felt like so long ago, and such a silly worry given the Laura that was sitting in front of her now. She didn't even walk with a limp any longer from her sprained ankle. "I don't read the tabloids."

  "But you know that I would be in the tabloids. It's my fault." Laura sighed, raising her fingers to her forehead. "It seems stupid now, but it worked for a little while. The more I partied with celebrities, who I thought were friends, the more publicity I got, and the more roles I was offered. As I got more popular, I was paid more, and able to fund some research for my projects."

  "What kind of projects?"

  "Well." Laura pulled up her other leg, tucking them against one another. "It's a long story, but I kind of fell into acting. I've always dreamed of being a documentary filmmaker, of focusing on and blowing open real issues. But I just haven't been able to make the shift." She paused, staring off into the distance. "Anyway, I'm not really cut out for the party life. One night of it is fine. Every day, and it starts to age you. It's not me, and it wore on my marriage."

  "I can imagine."

  Laura's eyes looked greener today, though Dylan could see the yellows too, highlighted by the Yule log fire. "It's not what you think. I didn't cheat on my husband."

  "I didn't think that." Dylan wished she had listened harder when Skylar and Kell were trading gossip. Had they said she cheated on her husband with a woman? Or had Dylan made that up? The question came to Dylan's lips, but it was much too bold a thought for her to let escape. It was none of her business anyhow.

  "It was all a mess in the end. Tom didn't want a baby, I did, blah blah, I got pregnant on my own. I thought the tabloids would lose interest then, but it only made them more determined. They hounded me every day. I was on hormones, and, it doesn't excuse my actions, but when a photographer snuck into my apartment building, I attacked him with a baseball bat. He had a bad concussion and published photos of the attack that made me look like a monster."

  "Sounds like he deserved it."

  "Maybe." Laura paused, staring out the window. "I don't know. It got out of control from there. People didn't believe that he was hounding me for some reason. They thought I asked for it."

  "Who would ask for that? That's ridiculous."

  "Right? Every day it felt like they knew more and more about my personal life. I have no idea where it was coming from. And I just... I couldn't take it anymore. That was when I was in L.A. filming for The Beautiful Ones, but New York, where I live the rest of the time, wasn't much better."

  Dylan nibbled the inside of her lip. On a call, she always knew the right thing to say to people in crisis, but now she was struggling with words. She couldn't put Laura in a box. What was Laura to Dylan in that moment? A friend? It had been too long since she had consoled a friend and she wasn't sure how to do it or if it would be the right thing. So, she opted not to speak.

  "As you can imagine, I got a little touchy about people stalking me. And that is why I hit you over the head. I thought you were another stalker, and I thought you were hurting the baby."

  Should she reach out her hand? Give her a hug? Dylan felt like the Tin Man from The Wizard of Oz, rusted in place. She couldn't move, but then a little oil found the corners of her mouth. "I forgive you. And I'm sorry, too."

  Just then, the timer went off for the casserole. Laura popped up, her vitality obvious in her movements. "I'll set the table. You better grab the casserole so I don't drop it all over your gorgeous tile floor."

  The three of them set out for the kitchen and dining area. By the time Dylan brought the casserole and the salad to the table, Laura had set two places kitty-corner to one another and lit two cream-colored tapers.

  "Ooo, what did you put in the salad?" she asked, her eyes sparkling.

  "I hope you don't mind." Dylan set the salad down on the corner between them. "I took the mixed greens from the bottom drawer, added a Clementine, some cracked pepper, and whipped up a vinaigrette."

  Laura's mouth fell open. "I didn't even know we had all of that here. You're a culinary wizard."

  "No, it's... nothing."

  "It's not nothing. It looks amazing, Dylan. Here, let's sit and eat before Aaron gets antsy."

  They sat at the table. Dylan arranged her napkin in her lap, and by the time she looked up again, Laura was digging into the salad. At the first bite, she sat back, letting her head drop against the chair and closing her eyes. "This dressing is to die for. How did you learn to make something like this?"

  "I don't know. I can sense when things go together."

  "I envy you. Try some. It's so good."

  Dylan took some of the salad and added casserole to her plate as well. It was a simple meal, but hearty and good. And the dressing was tasty. One of the tastier things she'd made in a while. She ate a few bites, and then Laura spoke again.

  "I never asked what you did for work."

  Dylan froze, then she set down her fork. What? "You don't know?"

  "No." Laura raised an eyebrow. "I know you work at least part time at The Snuggery, but I only saw you there a couple times and..." Laura frowned. "Do you get paid to work with those kids? I thought it was a volunteer position."

  "It is."

  "Eat some more casserole before it gets cold." Laura pushed the bowl over to Dylan, keeping her gaze pinned on her.

  Dylan sat back in her seat but ignored the food. How could Laura not know what she did
? Dylan had assumed, after the apology, that she had known who she was and what she did, and that was why she was being so nice to her. But maybe in all the trauma and fear of the moment...

  "I don't really work at The Snuggery. I just help out sometimes. My real job is as a nine-one-one operator."

  "Really? Oh, that's so cool. That—" Laura froze, a bite halfway to her mouth. Her eyes raised to meet Dylan's. She lowered her fork slowly, her arm looking almost animatronic in its slow, smooth movement. "Oh my God."

  Dylan waited.

  "You—you were the one on the phone with me while... Aaron."

  Dylan nodded. "And now it's time for me to apologize. I crossed a boundary. After the call, I wanted to know how you were doing so I snuck into the hospital."

  "You had my number, right? You could have called."

  I tried. I couldn't, Dylan wanted to say. But she didn't. A woman like this wouldn't understand how limited Dylan's life was. How that moment in the hospital was just a fluke brought on by an exercise-induced high. How she never would have done anything like that in the past. How Laura's own call to action had started the whole set of dominoes that led to this moment.

  This had been a mistake. It was all a mistake. Dylan's chair scraped against the hardwood floor as she pushed herself back. "I'm sorry. I never should have come. This was so inappropriate."

  As Dylan was walking past Laura, Laura caught her hand. Her eyes sparkled with moisture, her freckles blended into a smudge of brown in the low light. She held Dylan's hand, but enveloped her completely in the warmth that radiated from her. "Please don't leave. You have nothing to apologize for. You saved my life the other day, and for that I thank you a million times over."

  "It's my job," Dylan said.

  "You're amazing," Laura said, still staring at her with those charismatic eyes, still holding her in all that warmth. "You cook. You save lives. I'm glad we could do this. I hope we'll be friends."

  "Of course," Dylan found herself saying. Was it because of Laura's warmth? Or the half-glass of wine she'd consumed so far? Or was it something else guiding her to say the first thing that popped into her mind rather than a well-crafted response.

  Laura released her hand, and Dylan felt the glow as she eased back into her chair. As she took another spoonful of the casserole and plopped it on her plate.

  "So, tell me about this house. What's with the concrete near the windows?" Laura asked.

  "Oh, it's a passive solar house. The concrete acts as a sink for the heat during the day and releases it at night."

  "Tell me more." Laura looked at her like the most interesting and exquisite words were coming out of Dylan's mouth. "How exactly does that work in such a cold climate?"

  Dylan jumped into the specifics, finding it easy to talk about the technical aspects of the house. And as she did, she found herself eating, drinking, and eating some more, taking another helping, and sipping on a second glass of wine, until she was full of casserole and wine and good spirits.

  At the end of dinner, she helped Laura clean up. When they finished, Laura leaned against the counter. Dylan did the same.

  "Thank you again, for saving my life," Laura said.

  "Really. It was nothing."

  "Stop saying that. It's something. It's everything. And I will always remember it. And I think you saved me again tonight as I was going a little crazy alone up here."

  "That was my pleasure, too. If you see Colleen, give her my compliments for the dinner."

  Laura eased into Dylan, and their arms touched. It was just a small touch, but every one of Dylan's senses focused on that point, on the smell of her hair—some type of flower—on the warmth of her arm, on the buzz that sparked between them.

  That was the only way she could explain what came next. "Come down to the river Saturday morning," she said. "I'm in my first regatta."

  "You row?"

  "Yeah."

  Laura leaned in a smidgen more and gazed up at Dylan's face. "Dylan Wilson, you keep surprising me."

  Dylan blushed, holding her breath, trying not to pay attention to what that touch was doing to her. "You don't have to come if you don't want to."

  "No, of course I will."

  "Great. I'll send you specifics. And I'll bring a picnic, too, for lunch. Don't worry about anything. Just bring yourself and Aaron."

  "That sounds lovely."

  It took all of Dylan's willpower to push away from the counter, to take a step away from that warmth, not ready to face what might happen next. Whatever it was, she knew she couldn't handle it. Yet. But she also regretted the loss. "Great, I'll see you then."

  "I'm looking forward to it," Laura said.

  "Me too." Dylan let her gaze linger for a moment, unable to tear it away from the sparkling Laura. Then, before things got awkward, she hurried to the door, grabbed her coat, and left. The spring night air was like a cold shower, bringing Dylan back to her safe space. She let out a breath of relief and couldn't help but smile to herself.

  Then she realized she'd gone through that whole night, all through dinner, eating, and saying goodbye, without once thinking of Katie.

  The guilt came hard and strong, filling her eyes with tears.

  CHAPTER NINE

  LAURA, BY SOME FREAK new parent accident, arrived at Rondout Creek early, instantly found a parking spot, and made her way to the boat launch where she was supposed to meet Dylan. It was just before ten on the last weekend in April. Though it had rained early that morning, it was warm now, too warm for the light sweatshirt Laura had packed, especially with the extra layer of baby wrap and the little nugget himself nuzzled against her chest.

  This was Laura's first time out of the house, other than a quick grocery run, in weeks. Her ankle had healed to the point where she barely felt it, and her body was approaching something which, if it wasn't normal, at least it was tolerable. At least she wasn't aware of her aching ab muscles or tenderness in her nether regions any longer. Every day it got measurably better. Every day her body looked more like it had before. She counted herself lucky for that.

  She was starting to get into a routine with Aaron, too, and to become more comfortable with his needs. Diaper changes were nothing now, and feeding him, while it still took up much of her time, was no longer a battle requiring extra limbs. She'd even found a rhythm with sleep, and though she was tired, she had also taken up napping while he slept so she wasn't dead.

  So she now had some space in her brain, and that space only expanded in the beautiful sunshine with the trees leafing out around her and the water gleaming like a black diamond. Every spring she felt a certain sense of renewal, but in that moment, she felt powerful again for the first time in a long time. When was the last time she'd been on the east coast during spring time? When was the last time she enjoyed the season?

  "Hey, there," Dylan said, jogging over to Laura. "I'm so glad you could make it."

  Laura hadn't recognized her at first. Dylan wore compression shorts and a tight tank top that left little to the imagination, hugging the few curves she had, showing off her sleek musculature. A pair of racing sunglasses covered her eyes, and a handkerchief held back her hair. Laura was used to seeing her in much more clothing, but it wasn't just the clothing that froze her in place before she could speak. Dylan also had an ease about her, where before she had been relatively reserved. She seemed so changed from even a couple days before that Laura found herself searching Dylan's face for what exactly was different.

  "Hey, thanks for inviting me. It's a gorgeous day, isn't it?" she said, grasping for the small talk that usually came so easily to her.

  "Yes, I'm so glad the rain stopped," Dylan said, a little woodenly.

  There's the Dylan I know and—

  Well, she didn't really know Dylan, did she? But the woman was the most intriguing person Laura had met in a long time, and she intended to get to know her. Laura's body, anyway, was shooting off signals left and right. She kept having to resist the urge to step closer, to hug her, to
touch her arm, and she hadn't even been with her for fifteen minutes.

  Must be the hormones.

  "Have you raced yet?" she asked.

  "Oh, yes, we were in a couple races early on."

  Laura frowned. "I'm sorry to have missed you. I thought all the festivities started at ten."

  Dylan ran a hand through her hair. "I didn't want to make you come for the whole day. It's a lot of waiting, and with Aaron... well, you're here for the final sprint at least. It starts in fifteen minutes."

  "Excellent."

  Aaron squirmed. He made his presence known with his customary chirping sound, like a little bird.

  Dylan grinned and dropped the hands from her hips. "How is our little buddy?"

  "He's great." Laura peeled back the wrap and leaned toward Dylan, but for Dylan to see him she had to step closer. When she did, Laura closed her eyes and soaked in the warmth she could feel radiating off the woman. The other night at the end of dinner, buzzing on the first glass of wine she'd had in almost a year and the dim interior of the cabin, Laura had dared to brush Dylan's arm. Now, with the sun beating down on her and Dylan so close, she felt shy for the first time in her life. She held her breath and didn't move until Dylan backed away.

  Dylan seemed fine, but the near contact left Laura feeling dizzy, like Dylan was her first crush in grade school or something.

  It must be those damn hormones, she told herself again, confused by her obvious attraction to Dylan. It wasn't that she hadn't been attracted to women before, just not like this. Not to the point where she couldn't stop thinking about said woman. Couldn't stop stripping her in her mind. Couldn't stop her imaginary hands from running over her shoulders and down her back...