“Okay,” he said, motioning with both arms like a tour guide. “Welcome to Casa McKenzie. Make yourselves at home. Shoesoptional, fridge stocked, and please don’t judge me for the six unopened Amazon boxes in the mudroom.”
Abigail whistled. “Damn, Dylan. You didn’t tell us you lived in a catalog.”
He grunted.
Ashley dropped her duffel and immediately made a beeline for the living room. “This rug? I’d commit crimes for this rug.”
“Appreciate that,” Dylan said, catching Ali’s eye with a crooked smile. She blushed faintly and tucked her hair behind her ear.
God, he’d missed her.
He showed them around—kitchen, pool, media room, the guest wing that could sleep a small army—and tried to play it cool even though every cell in his body was screamingget her alone.It had been weeks. She looked unfairly good. Like sunshine and slow kisses and trouble he’d gladly get into twice.
But they’d barely gotten to say more than a hello. And all her friends were here.
Once the grand tour ended, they ended up back in the kitchen, everyone either perched on stools or leaned against the island, eyeing the welcome snacks.
“So…” Dylan said, as casually as he could muster. “If y’all want, I can have a car take you to Disney Springs for a few hours. Hit some shops, get food, maybe check out the bar at the Boathouse…”
Ali’s brows lifted in amusement, but before she could speak, Abigail let out a very pointedsnort.
“Oh.Ohhhh.” She straightened, hands on hips. “You really thought we wouldn’t notice? That you were gonna shoo us off like toddlers to a Disney mall while you two played house?”
Ashley cackled. “He’s literally blushing.”
“I’m not blushing,” Dylan muttered, running a hand over his jaw and trying not to look as guilty as he felt. “I just figured you might want some girl time. I was being polite.”
“You were being horny,” Raleigh Ann said sweetly.
Dylan opened his mouth, then closed it again, then sighed. “Okay, yeah. That too.”
Ali laughed behind her hand, and that sound alone made him feel like the luckiest bastard on the planet.
“Look,” Abigail said, grabbing a slice of pineapple from the charcuterie tray. “Wearegoing to Disney Springs. Because I love shopping and the margaritas there are actually elite. But just know we’re letting you win. This is charity.”
“Deeply appreciated,” Dylan said, deadpan.
Ali walked over, nudged his side with her hip, and whispered just loud enough for him to hear, “You’re not slick, quarterback.”
He grinned, tilted his head, and murmured back, “Didn’t say I was.”
The front door clicked shut, followed by the sound of retreating laughter and Ashley’s voice yelling something aboutneeding churros immediately or she’d die.
Dylan didn’t move. Not for a beat.
Then, slowly, he turned toward her.
Ali stood barefoot in the kitchen now, her sundress swaying just slightly as she leaned back against the island. Her fingers played with the edge of the counter like she was deciding whether to run or stay. But her eyes… those wide, blue eyes were locked on him like she knew exactly what he wanted.
And she wanted it, too.
“Finally,” he said, voice low.
Two strides and he was on her, crowding into her space, hands on her hips, thumbs pressing against the soft fabric of her dress like he needed to ground himself before he lost it.
“You’ve been driving me insane since you stepped out of that car.”
“Abigail’s mini dress,” she whispered, grinning as his hands slid up her sides. “Not really my size. But she talked me into it. Said it would buy me some extra points.”
