Dylan grabbed his phone and stood up. He’d have to get going if he was going to make it into town by the time Shelby Keelan arrived. His phone buzzed again in his hand. Dylan grimaced, hoping it wasn’t Burgamy.
It wasn’t.
“You are not my current favorite sibling, Sawyer.” Dylan’s words were tough, but his greeting held no malice.
“Ha. Well, I’m still Mom’s favorite, so that’s all that matters,” Sawyer responded. “I guess I’m too late to catch you before Burgamy does.”
“Just got off the phone with him.”
“Damn it. I’m sorry, Dylan. I told Burgamy I would handle it, but you know him.”
Dylan rolled his eyes. Yes, he was quite familiar with Burgamy’s tactics. “Looks like I’ll be delivering some codes to you tonight.” Dylan looked out the window; menacing clouds were rolling in behind the setting sun. “Actually, it might be much later tonight. It looks like a storm is rolling in.”
“Thanks for doing this, man. The codes are—” Sawyer broke off midsentence and Dylan could hear his muffled words to someone else before they stopped entirely.
“Dylan?” A much softer female voice came on the line.
“Hey, Megan. How are you feeling?”
“Fine now that I’m not hurling my guts out multiple times a day.” Dylan could hear the smile in his petite sister-in-law’s voice. “I’m sorry about Burgamy, Dylan. Sawyer wanted us to leave him out of it totally, but I wouldn’t let him.”
“It’s no problem, hon. I can handle Burgamy.”
“Thanks for meeting Shelby. She and I knew each other in college. She’s...special.”
Dylan didn’t know what to make of special. That could mean a lot of things. “Well, I hope you don’t mean special as in special needs like your husband.”
Megan laughed. “No, Shelby is definitely not special needs. The opposite, in fact. A brilliant computer-game programmer.”
“Well, either way it’s no problem. I’ll see you guys soon. I’ve got to get going if I’m going to meet Shelby on time. Burgamy didn’t leave much wiggle room.”
“Thanks again, Dylan.”
“Anything for you, sweetheart. You just keep my little niece or nephew safe, okay? Bye.”
Dylan disconnected and went inside his house of the past four years. He had never brought a woman here; he’d preferred encounters to happen at their place instead. It made leaving much easier and awkward talks about why he couldn’t stay much less necessary.
Dylan preferred his solitude and planned to keep it that way. He’d tried dating, but many women thought being a widower meant he needed to be smothered with attention. With love. They wanted to wrap their arms around him and help chase his demons away. Dylan knew they meant well, but he couldn’t tolerate that kind of unrelenting attention.
Dylan would face his own demons. Always had.
So he kept things casual with women, and kept them out of his personal space. Sometimes, much more rarely now, he got physically involved, but he was sure to let a woman know up front that his heart was off the table. A future with Dylan was not an option.
Dylan walked into his bedroom and changed out of the dirty work clothes he’d had on for normal plane maintenance. He decided to take a quick shower, cursing Burgamy again when he couldn’t linger under the hot water to help loosen some of the residual soreness from old wounds. Thirty minutes wasn’t a long time to get to Falls Run from his house.
And yes, Sally’s was the only sit-down restaurant in the small town, more of a diner than anything else. There were also a couple of fast-food places, a gas station, a bar, hardware store and bank. Falls Run wasn’t that small. And it was perfect for Dylan’s purposes in a town: small enough that he didn’t have to worry about too many strangers wandering around, and large enough that he was able to get what he needed regularly enough for both his business and personal needs.
He’d chosen Falls Run on purpose. At the borders of Virginia, Tennessee and North Carolina, it allowed him access, via his Cessna, to almost anywhere on the East and Gulf coasts. Plus, the town was surrounded by the Blue Ridge Mountains. In Dylan’s opinion, you couldn’t ask for better real estate than that.
And it was far enough from Washington, DC, and Omega for him to stay away from his past there.
Dylan rolled his eyes. At least he thought Falls Run was far enough away. Evidently not, given the past few years. Dylan got dressed in jeans and a button-down shirt, grabbed his keys and wallet from the dresser and headed out the door to his pickup truck.
What the hell. He’d enjoy a nice meal at Sally’s—he was tired of his own cooking anyway—and meet Megan’s friend. Dylan pretty much kept to himself, but he knew how to be polite and charming when he wanted to be. His mother had instilled that much in the Branson siblings when they were growing up. Shelby Keelan wasn’t at fault for Burgamy’s high-handed tactics; no need to blame her. He’d meet her and move on.
Get the codes. Deliver the codes. Get out.
No problem.
For the first time she could remember, Shelby Keelan cursed her gifts when it came to math. Normally she was very appreciative of them: they allowed her to make a great living doing something she enjoyed—making games kids loved to play. But not this time. This time her abilities had brought her out of her nice comfortable home to a strange town to meet a strange person she had no real desire to meet.
Of course, Shelby rarely had the desire to meet anyone new.
She easily found a parking spot at the restaurant in Falls Run, although the lot was across the street from the diner due to the narrow shape of the town forced by mountains. Shelby had been told there was only one restaurant and she couldn’t miss it, but she’d still been a little worried. What kind of town had only one restaurant?
Evidently the town of Falls Run.
Shelby didn’t mind small towns. She didn’t mind big cities either. It was the people in both that tended to cause her stress. Shelby just didn’t do people very well.
Even now, pulling into a mostly empty parking lot, she was pretty stressed out. Shelby knew she would need to make small talk. With strangers. Multiple strangers maybe. She had many talents, but chatting with people wasn’t one of them. She was an introvert through and through.
Her introversion had driven her flamboyant mother crazy when Shelby was a child. Her mom wanted to show her off—as if people really wanted to hear some four-year-old recite pi to the two-hundredth digit—but young Shelby had just wanted to be alone.
Adult Shelby just wanted to be alone, too. Back at her own house in Knoxville, where everything had its place and was comfortable and safe and familiar. Where she didn’t have to think too hard about what she did or what she said or if she
