Cathy Gillen - The Brides of Holly Springs

Yarborough looked down at Hannah, a lecherous gleam in his eyes. “Well, maybe we could at that,” Yarborough flirted back as Dylan stopped just short of them. Determined to interrupt before this charade went any further, he said casually, “Hey, Hannah.”

She looked over and froze, the color draining from her face. Recovering admirably, she said, “Dylan. Fancy meeting you here.”

“What’s that saying?” Dylan asked, pretending to all those witnessing the scene that he had some claim to Hannah. “Wherever you go-est, I go-est?”

Yarborough looked Dylan up and down, then turned to Hannah and asked, “This your husband?”

Hannah’s smile tightened. “No. Most definitely not.”

“Boyfriend?” Yarborough persisted.

Dylan clamped a hand around Hannah’s shoulders. “Hannah doesn’t like the term boyfriend,” he said. “Too high school. But to answer your question, yes, she and I do go back a ways.”

Hannah glared at him in a way that said back off, then turned back to R.G. “It’s not what you think. Dylan’s like a brother to me.”

“A brother who does not want to see you hurt,” Dylan continued, looking at her just as meaningfully.

Hannah propped her hands on her hips as a crowd began to gather round them. She was so piqued with him that steam was practically coming out of her ears. “Since when are you my keeper?” she demanded, even as the two guys nearest them elbowed each other. “Hey,” one of them said, taking a closer look at Dylan. “Aren’t you that guy that used to be on W-MOL, doing the sports?”

“Yeah. Dylan Hart, isn’t it?” someone else asked, edging closer.

“You coming back to work on one of the local TV stations again?” another asked excitedly.

“Yeah,” chimed a fourth. “You were good!”

Looking relieved to no longer be the center of attention, Hannah patted Dylan on the arm. “Maybe you should attend to your fan club and let me continue here.”

Dylan looked down at her, still not sure what she had been about to wager. He couldn’t say why exactly, he just knew he was more certain than ever that she was doing something she did not want him, or anyone else in Holly Springs, to know about. “No way.”

Her soft lips took on a mutinous line. “Excuse us, will you?” Hannah tugged him aside. “What are you doing here?”

“Looking out for you.”

She drew a deep breath, clearly exasperated, as she apparently did not want to be kept away from the unsavory types, by him or anyone else. “How did you even know I was here?” she hissed.

Wondering if he would ever in a million years understand women and why they were drawn to rich losers over decent hardworking guys like himself, Dylan replied as if it were the most natural thing in the world, “I followed you from Holly Springs.”

That gave her pause, Dylan noted with grim satisfaction. “Why?” she asked a lot more cautiously.

Dylan shrugged, never taking his eyes from her face. This much at least he had been prepared to answer. “You’ve got my stuff in the van. My carry-on luggage. The clothes I was wearing earlier. It’s all in the back.”

Yarborough strode over. “Hey, babe,” he drawled so lasciviously Dylan wanted to punch his face. “You going to play or not?”

To Dylan’s chagrin, Hannah looked torn, as if she wanted to go off with R.G., just not in front of Dylan, or anyone else she knew from Holly Springs.

Not gonna happen, Dylan decided. He winked over at her with a playfulness he knew she would not appreciate. “I don’t mind.” He shrugged his shoulders lazily. “I can wait.”

Hannah dug into the front pocket of her tight black skirt. “I’ll just give you the keys and you can go on out and get your stuff.” She pressed them into his palm, her fingers warm against his.

Dylan planted his feet firmly beneath him and resisted the way she was practically pushing him away. “I also need a ride back to Holly Springs,” Dylan continued matter-of-factly.

Abruptly, Hannah stopped pushing. “I thought you followed me here,” she said with a frown.

Dylan examined her keys. “In a cab.”

Her pretty pine-green eyes radiated displeasure. “You can’t take a cab back?”

Dylan shrugged. “I’m out of cash. But that’s okay.” He leaned against the pillar at his back, prepared to do whatever it took. “Like I said, I can wait.”

Thwarted, Hannah gave up. “Wait here,” she commanded furiously as she stalked off, R. G. Yarborough in tow, and said something to him that he looked none too happy to be hearing.

There was another brief exchange. One that Yarborough seemed to be on the losing end of again, then Hannah headed back to Dylan, her strides long and sexy. “You’re turning out to be one royal pain today,” she told him as they headed toward the door, side by side. “You know that, don’t you?”

“So I’ll make it up to you,” Dylan drawled, wondering how it was that he could have known Hannah Reid as long as he had and never made a single pass at her.

“How?” Hannah snapped, giving him yet another hot, aggravated look.

Dylan reached past her to open the door. Still determined to find out what was going on with the former tomboy, he smiled at her gallantly. “I’ll buy you dinner.”

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