She gave him a confused look. "Uh, yeah."
"Where'd they come from?"
Dylan pointed to the sideboard his mother had bought and restored for him as his housewarming present when he'd bought the place.
"Whoa. I have cloth napkins too?"
"Do you ever look inside that sideboard?" Dylan asked.
"Not really."
"Well, I think you owe your mother an apology as well as an extra big thank you."
He gave her a strange look. "How'd you know my mother gave that to me?"
"How else would you have nice candlesticks, candles to go in them, cloth napkins, and two very nice tablecloths? Oh, and the napkin rings I used."
"That was all inside the sideboard?"
She closed her eyes and laughed. "Just sit your ass down so we can eat. I've been smelling this food for thirty minutes now and I'm starving."
"Okay, okay. No need to be so upset."
He poured them both more wine and ran into the kitchen to grab a couple of glasses of water.
After he sat back down, he realized that he hadn't said anything to Dylan about what she'd done to the table.
"All joking aside, the table looks really nice," he said.
The corner of her mouth lifted in a half-smile. "Thank you."
"To a delicious, quiet meal that won't be interrupted by my family," he said, raising his wine glass.
The smile grew as she tapped her glass to his, a high chime ringing. "To an enjoyable evening."
Their eyes held as they both drank.
Whatever happened, he was already enjoying the evening.
ChapterThirteen
Before she arrived at Clay's house, Dylan already knew how the night would end. Even the weird text messages she'd been getting all week couldn't interfere with her plans. She kept blocking the numbers as they popped up, but the messages still came. Asking her why she was hurting them. Talking about their future as a couple. She still had no idea who it was, but she wasn't going to engage any longer. It wasn't going to stop the man on the other side. She was assuming it was the same man who called her before. The wording was similar.
Ignoring him was the only way to go. If it kept happening, she would have to get her number changed, but she really didn't want the hassle because she'd had her cell phone number for almost a decade. She'd give it a few weeks before she did anything that drastic.
No, she'd much rather focus on the coming night with Clay. But she didn't intend to make it easy for him.
As he washed the dishes and she dried, Dylan cocked her head and studied him.
"You said that you and your family liked to play board games," she said.
"That's right."
"Which one is your favorite?"
Clay chuckled as he scrubbed a pan. "That's like asking you what your favorite book is," he replied.
Dylan nodded. She knew exactly what he meant.
