Page 23 of Anything for You (Veterans of Silver Ridge #7)

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Dorian

B ear raised a knowing set of furry brows.

“Hush. I’m just making up for earlier.” I finger-combed my unruly hair into something decently presentable and eyed my beard. It was still on the overgrown side of things.

Which was fine. Because I wasn’t doing anything other than taking her dinner. I’d put it in the oven after my shower and spent some time puttering around the house trying not to acknowledge how antsy I was to see her again.

Also trying not to remember the way her cheeks had gone pink when she rather shamelessly looked at my chest. Heat simmered low in my gut, and as I tried to figure out if anything else could improve my haggard appearance, I marveled at the feeling.

It’d been so long since I’d been attracted to someone. Even longer since I’d felt excited to be with them. After years of healing, first physically and then emotionally, that little flame Dove had lit was a miracle.

Any effort to pretend I didn’t feel the pull between us had evaporated in the unseasonably warm evening air when her clear blue eyes traced the shape of me.

The oven beeped so I gave up on this physical appearance business and focused on the food.

She hadn’t hated the view this afternoon if her blush and her runaway talking were anything to go by, but was there anything else between us?

Or was this simply what friendship with a beautiful neighbor felt like?

Was it the natural course of what me coming out of a years-long period of self-imposed celibacy resulted in?

Identifying it as such was a cheap substitute for what it felt like to me, but could I trust my own judgement on the issue?

And more than that, if she was interested, could I really offer her anything?

She had sacrificed for her family and gone through so many hard things.

Like I’d reminded myself before, she loved Silverton, and she was an extrovert.

What kind of life could she possibly have with me?

My alarm went off, signaling I had five minutes to wrap up her food and deliver it so I got to work.

I’d baked the shepherd’s pie in two small dishes so she could have her own.

I’d also made some quick rolls, a salad, and an early apple pie.

This was a meal that should’ve been made in October, especially since the day had been so warm, but I’d been craving comfort. Hopefully, she wouldn’t mind.

“Are you coming?” I asked Bear as I opened the front door with a bag containing Dove’s dinner in one hand.

He perked up from where he’d slumped on the cool kitchen floor and loped down the front steps, then headed straight for Dove’s porch. I joined him, and just before I pressed the doorbell, the door swung open.

“Hi. Sorry. I was not trying to be creepy and I definitely wasn’t pacing around right here by the door. I just happened to hear Bear and, yeah.” She waved a hand with a little chagrined smile. “Hi.”

Everything she did felt like a deliberate assault on my admittedly paltry efforts to not fall deeper under her spell.

Had she been cool and collected or standoffish, I would never think twice about her.

It simply wouldn’t appeal, nor would it bust through my innate distrust of my ability to evaluate her level of interest.

But this? This flustered, honest, funny woman was so completely desirable, I could hardly remember why I’d come except to get another look at her before the day came to an end.

She had her hair pulled back in a ponytail sitting high at the back of her head with little blonde wisps framing her face like earlier.

She’d changed from the shorts and T-shirt into a pair of what looked like sweatpants and a fresh T-shirt that said “Pemberly U” on it.

Bear sat on my foot, which shook me from my Dove-induced stupor. I held up the bag. “Dinner. Should be warm. I hope it’s not too heavy. Eggplant-free, I promise.”

She giggled with such naked delight as she took the bag, my stomach flipped.

“Thank you. It’s just a disgusting vegetable. Who would grow such a thing?” she asked, leaning against one side of her door frame.

“I have a few growing in my garden, but?—”

She reached for the door and started closing it. “Well, that’s given me all the information I need…”

After a beat, she flung it open again with a wry grin. “Kidding, of course. Unless you do try to feed me eggplant and then we’re going to have a tough conversation. Do you understand, Dorian?”

She was playful. Fun. Whatever burdens she’d been shouldering these last few weeks, they were easing, and nothing made me gladder than seeing the proof of it here in front of me.

Well, nothing except maybe the low-level suspicion she was flirting with me just a little.

“I promise I’ll never feed you eggplant. I have no doubt I can stick to that promise. I’m reliable.”

She tilted her head, eyes skating over me in an assessing sweep. “I’m sure you are.”

Bracing my hand against the frame, I leaned in. “I am.”

Her lips parted, and her eyes softened as they flickered back and forth between mine.

The air grew thick, the dim sounds of crickets disappearing as I took in the arch of her brows and the perfect slope of her nose.

Her eyes appeared to be smiling even when she was still staring back as though transfixed.

I knew the feeling.

She reached up with her free hand, moving so slowly I thought it’d never reach me, but eventually, her palm pressed against my cheek and jaw, her fingers settling next to my ear.

Electrified, I leaned closer. Bear still had my foot stapled to the porch, but I didn’t want to ruin the moment. Instead, maintaining the connection with her, whatever this was, became my primary objective.

Bear shifted, ears perked, and he let out a bark.

Sadly, this startled Dove, and she pulled her hand back, then her eyes shifted over my shoulder where I turned to see a large white SUV trundling down the drive .

“Is that a police car?” she asked, worry infusing her tone.

“It’s Sheriff Ryan. Juniper Creek’s sheriff,” I explained, hoping it’d set her at ease but feeling a deep sense of foreboding at the sight of the man parking, engine off, and slipping out of his front seat.

“Sorry to disturb, Dorian. Ma’am.” He tipped his head, now covered by the cowboy hat he’d settled on his head as soon as he exited the car, at Dove.

“What’s going on?” I asked, worry crawling up my shins before I set a hand on Bear, who’d stayed close.

He shook his head. “Not sure it’s much of anything, but we had some reports of some issues around Patriot Ridge. Thought I’d come out and see if you’d had any issues on your line. I’m sorry it’s so late.”

“Not that I saw earlier. We weren’t where the trouble’s been in the past, but we can ride out there if you think we should check. What kind of issues?”

Dove shifted, and her hand slipped into the one of mine not resting on Bear. My heart warmed as Ryan spoke.

“We ended up arresting two kids who’d started a small fire.

Someone saw them run back to the commune borders.

They seemed to think they couldn’t be questioned or taken in if they crossed the line.

” He sighed and shook his head. “Jackson Smith, seventeen, and Ransom Petersen, eighteen. A Hawk Jensen and a Cory Smith came and bailed them out. I haven’t seen any of these guys around, and I suspect they’re part of the new crew who’s made the switch from Sego Lily to Patriot. ”

Dove had gone stiff next to me.

“Did you say—” She cleared her throat of the rasp she’d started with. “Did you say Hawk Jensen?”

Like lightning, the realization struck home. Dove Jensen… and Hawk must be her brother. She hadn’t seen him for years, and he was right here?

“Yes, ma’am. Do you know any of them?” the sheriff asked.

She dropped my hand and now clasped hers together, pressing them close to her body.

“Just Hawk. He’s my brother.”