She huffed. “Either way. You can minimize your time with Indy at work and only see her for work related things. Meetings and whatnot. And I’ll talk to Austin about getting her to work on the web series. Maybe she could be in charge of researching marketing and whatever. Isn’t that what her degree is in?”
“You know about the web series?” I blinked a few times. We hadn’t even really gotten into the details about it yet.
“When are you going to learn, boy-o? I know everything.”
I snorted a little laugh. She wasn’t wrong.
Aunt Wendy sighed. “I’ll talk to Sabrina tonight and sort out the apartment for her. And I’ll have a vehicle waiting there for her. I’m sure between all of us, we can scrape one together.”
“She can have my truck, and I’ll use my bike.”
She sent me a baleful look.
“What?”
“We’re trying to cut the ties between the two of you, remember?”
“I just want her to be safe. And happy.”
“I know, Dylan.” She leaned toward me and wrapped her arms around my shoulders. “You’ve always been the tender-hearted Burns brother. And I love that about you. Really I do. Don’t let this change that about you, okay? You’ll get through this, Indy will too, and hopefully the two of you will be stronger for it. She just needs to know her own power and that she can stand on her own two feet. Every woman should know that.”
“I know you’re right in here.” I tapped my temple. “Doesn’t make it me happy here though.” I tapped a fist against my chest.
I turned to stare at Indy again. She held Fliss on her lap and was running her hand over Fliss’ golden curls as she talked to Sabrina. The two of them made a picture so gorgeous it made my heart ache.
Or maybe that was the conversation with Aunt Wendy.
Because I was hurting.
And in a few hours, Indy would be hurting too.
Chapter 21
Indy
The wedding had been magical. I’d laughed more than I could remember. Twirling around the dance floor with all the Burns brothers had been a blast. Slow dancing with Dylan. Eating cake with the girls. But my favorite memory was riding home on the back of Dylan’s motorcycle. Feeling the wind whipping around us and his whole body pressed against my front, my arm wrapped around him… It almost topped the first time we had sex.
Almost.
If anything, it was the best foreplay. By the time he pulled into his building’s parking lot, I was all but panting as I clutched his lean body in my arms. But Dylan had been oddly detached. He gave me a vague smile as he helped me off the bike and held my hand to the door, but he clearly wasn’t feeling the same driving pull toward me that I felt for him.
“Is everything okay?” I asked as I watched him prowl from the living room to the kitchen and back.
“Yes. No. It’s all so fucked. I can’t, I don’t…” He sighed like he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders.
A feeling of dread crawled down my spine. “Is it me? Do you regret us being together?”
“What? No. Never.” He rushed across the room and took me in his arms. His voice was muffled against my neck when he spoke again. “I don’t regret a single second we’ve spent together. I have and always will want you. Don’t forget that, Indy.”
I wrapped my arms around him gingerly, like I was afraid he would bolt at any moment. But I didn’t say anything. Honestly, I was afraid to believe him. His actions weren’t exactly matching his words.
He pulled back slightly but kept his arms around me. “Promise me that you won’t forget that. No matter what happens in the next few days, I…I want you to know how much you mean to me. How much I want you in my life now and always.”
That crawly feeling returned, but now I was worried about him. “What’s going on? Did you find out that the DA is pressing charges against you?”
“No. Nothing like that.” He sighed then let his arms fall and took a few steps away. “I had a conversation with Aunt Wendy, and it’s making me rethink everything, honestly. You know I did some fucked up shit against the family this last few years. I burned a lot of bridges. And I guess I’m realizing some things can’t be fixed overnight. No matter how much I want them to be.”
I frowned at him, trying and failing to understand what exactly was going on. I knew he was sober—I checked before getting on the back of his bike. I might’ve been gone on this man, but I wasn’t a moron.
