Montana Creeds: Dylan by Miller Linda Lael

Author:Miller, Linda Lael [Miller, Linda Lael]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Romance, Contemporary, Mystery, Suspense, Adult, Western
ISBN: 9780373773589
Amazon: B001TYUIJE
Barnesnoble: B001TYUIJE
Goodreads: 5022581
Published: 2009-03-01T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER ELEVEN

THERE WAS SOMETHING Kristy wanted to tel him, Dylan decided, watching her moving fitful y around his bedroom dressed only in one of his western

shirts, her hair moist from the shower they’d taken together, after making love until they were both too spent to do it even one more time.

Dylan, wearing misbuttoned jeans and nothing else, lay on his side on the rumpled bed, head propped in one hand, just drinking her in through his eyes, through the pores of his skin. Even in the fading sunshine slipping dust-sparkled between the slats of the window-blinds, Kristy seemed to glow as if she were translucent, formed of ever-shifting light in soft, iridescent shades.

The dog, Sam, who had jumped onto the bed at a critical moment and made them both laugh even as they were sharing a noisy climax, had been trying to

keep up with her. Now, the poor mutt sank to the floor with a low whine of dismay.

“Talk to me, Kristy,” Dylan said, at long last.

She stopped, gazed at him in pained reluctance. Then she gave an oh-wel -what-the-hel kind of shrug and came to sit gingerly on the edge of the

mattress. Realizing she’d bolt if he touched her, Dylan withdrew his hand just before it would have spanned the smal of her back.

Kristy bit her lower lip and stared down at the floor, which was stil littered with al of her clothes and a few of his.

“Somebody knows,” she final y said, her voice so soft that he barely heard her.

“Knows what?” he asked.

“About us,” she answered miserably.

He chuckled. “Kristy, this is Stil water Springs, not New York or L.A. Smal -town people pick up on things like this pretty quickly.”

She swal owed visibly, nodded, as though begrudging him the point. “But this is somebody mean,” she said.

“What happened?”

Suddenly, Kristy was on her feet again, pacing again.

Sam gave a halfhearted whimper of protest, worn-out.

“I keep running to you with this stuff, like some frightened child!”

“Tel me.”

She spil ed a story then, the words practical y tumbling over each other, about visiting Web sites the night before, ones relating to the lost girl found in Sugarfoot’s grave, and then receiving an instant message from somebody with the screen name Gravesitter. Even tel ing him the tale, she shuddered,

and hugged herself with both arms, as though chil ed by a harsh wind.

“Whoever this bozo was,” she said, winding it up, “he—or she—said they were ‘glad I was sleeping with you again,’ because up til then, they thought I was frigid!”

Hiding a smile, because it was fine with him if everybody thought Kristy was frigid, Dylan leaned to grab his travel alarm clock and check the time. They were due at the high school gym for the debate between Jim Huntinghorse and Mike Danvers in half an hour.

With a sigh, he sat up, took the liberty of massaging Kristy’s shoulders through the thinning fabric of that old rodeo shirt. Kissed her left ear. “What do you care what people think?” he asked.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.