"Not actual verbal conversations," Dylan said with a smile. "More like impressions and thoughts." Her smile widened. "She likes you."
"Um, well, I like her, too," he said.
"The back door is through here," she said, leading him into the kitchen.
Clay frowned when he saw the state of her back door. It had nine small glass panes in the top half and the one in the lower corner closest to the knob was broken.
"This isn't safe," he said.
Dylan sighed. "I know, but it's a rental, so I can't do anything about it without the landlord's permission."
"Well, maybe you should give them a call and tell them what's going on so that they'll replace the door."
"I'll call, but I doubt they'll replace the entire door. It's cheaper to fix the glass and leave it as is."
"Not if that fucker comes back and breaks the window again before he tries to hurt you."
"I'll talk to them," Dylan said. "Now, I'm going to grab a quick shower before I start packing and getting all my plants together. Do you need anything else until then?"
Clay shook his head. "I'm good."
"Okay." She started toward the door but stopped before she left the kitchen. "Thanks for your help today. And the place to stay."
He tucked his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. "I meant it when I said anytime."
"I know."
She left and Clay stood still for a long moment, looking at the place where she'd been seconds before.
Any other woman and he would have been the first to offer to help but he wouldn't be moving her into his place.
With Dylan, he would have been pissed if she stayed anywhere but with him.
In fact, he wasn't sure he would want her to leave.
ChapterSeventeen
The entire day seemed surreal to Dylan.
By the time she finished showering and getting ready for the day, Clay had fixed the door and cleaned up the kitchen and living room. He'd even vacuumed the carpet in the living room where shredded leaves and bits of glass had scattered the floor. The man had tracked in the glass after he broke in.
Dylan didn't bother with make-up since Clay was waiting for her. She hated the feeling of keeping someone waiting. It was stressful. Instead, she gave her hair a quick blow dry, gathered up her toiletries, and carried everything into the bedroom.
For a split second, she could see the man standing by her bed, waiting for her, but when she blinked, his image was gone. She wondered how long it would be before she could go into her bedroom without seeing him there.
She gave herself a mental shake. She wasn't going to let this mess with her head any more than it already had. She'd be more vigilant about what was going on around her, but she wasn't going to live her life in fear. Not if she could help it.
Now that she knew he was watching her, she'd be looking for him. And if she saw him again, she would do something. Though she needed figure out what that something would be.
Dylan dressed in a matching long-sleeved shirt and joggers so she could be warm and comfortable while she packed. After she was clothed, she dragged out a couple of suitcases and stood in front of her closet with her hands on her hips, staring at her clothes.
"What are you doing?" Clay asked from right behind her.
Dylan squealed and whirled around, clutching her chest. "You scared me to death!" she yelled.
Clay was instantly contrite. "I'm so sorry. I thought you heard me clomping through the house."
"I was concentrating."
