Not that I wanted to hurt him. She pressed the lock. Not really. Or she wouldn’t want to as soon as this first wave of humiliation, betrayal, and heart-wrenching pain passed. And that should be any minute. Hopefully before the appeal of running him down in the driveway transformed from a fleeting fantasy into reality.
He tapped on the window then cupped his hands around his mouth like a megaphone. “She’s not my fiancée.”
Gracie shot him a scathing look of disbelief and revved the engine.
“Roll down the window. Let me explain.”
Damn him, no. It wasn’t going to be that easy. “Later. I have to go to the festival now.”
With shaky hands, she threw the truck into gear. Dylan jumped off the running board and ran to the Navigator. As she turned toward town, he turned right behind her.
She put her mind on focusing and reviewing the list of chores she had to attend to before manning the ice cream booth, but her gaze kept drifting to her rearview mirror. Gracie pulled into the church parking lot, and Dylan pulled into the spot opposite her. Ignoring him, she darted inside to check on half a dozen last minute details, hoping he’d give up and leave her alone.
When she had done everything but wash the windows and scrub the floors, she couldn’t delay any longer. She returned outside to discover Dylan talking to Jake Armstrong at the bottom of the steps. Or rather, Dylan listening to Jake talk.
“Saw it on TV,” Jake boomed. “Haven’t had time to run out there, myself, but your camp looks like a dead loss.”
Dylan trained his gaze on Gracie.
“And poor Lana Harris,” Jake continued. “I guess there wasn’t much left of her either.”
Dylan hooked Gracie’s elbow as she edged around them, impervious to the scathing look she shot at him.
“Hello, Gracie,” Jake acknowledged. “Great weather for the festival, isn’t it? Lulu’s heating up the first kettle of chowder for our booth now. You two should stop by for some. On the house.”
“Thanks, Jake. I’m sure Dylan would love to, but I’ll be busy at the ice-cream booth.” Intending to put distance between herself and the two men, she started moving. “Excuse me, please. I need to get over there.”
Dylan’s grip on her arm tightened as she tried to jerk away from him. “See you later,” he said to Jake.
“I’ll go with you.” He lumbered along beside them. “Did you see the piece about the fire on TV, Gracie? I was telling Dylan that’s the first time East Langden’s made the national news since his father died.”
“I saw it.”
“Did you see his fiancée on Secret Edition? She’s a real looker. Who’d have thought it, eh? Not that he’d have a looker for a girlfriend, but that he was engaged.” He poked Dylan in the side. “Awful closed-mouthed about that news, eh?”
“We’re not engaged.” Dylan continued to hang onto Gracie despite her efforts to escape.
She didn’t want him touching her. Not now, not ever again.
“A dazzling girl,” Jake went on. “Blond, beautiful, a bit bony for my taste, but that’s the way those models are, I guess. She’d be a tasty treat for any man, am I right?”
“She is a bit bony,” Dylan agreed.
Gracie took pains not to peruse her own body, which would look positively round next to the slender, elegant lines of the fashion model. She wasn’t in competition with anyone. Jealousy wasn’t making her so furious. It was Dylan’s deceit that made her want to scratch his eyes out.
She may have to put up with the men’s company, but she didn’t have to talk or listen to them. Humming a happy tune, she acted as if she didn’t have a care in the world and their conversation interested her not in the least. Which it didn’t.
She took a deep breath as they neared the streets blocked off for the festival. Nothing else smelled as good as the Spring Blossom Festival.
Flowers bloomed everywhere, their scent heavy in the air. Salty ocean spray added a tang to the mix of food booths that offered everything from Lulu’s lobster chowder to common street fare like corn dogs and cotton candy. Gracie associated the unique combination of aromas with East Langden and home. Unfortunately, the man attached to her like a barnacle threatened to ruin the moment. She hummed louder and increased her speed, enough to leave Jake gasping at the pace. Which rendered him blessedly silent.
“Where’s your booth?” Dylan asked Gracie as they neared the waterfront.
“Just here,” Jake answered, pointing to Lulu’s spot across the street. He lumbered off in that direction. “Don’t forget to drop by later.”
The church’s booth stood farther down the block. As much as Jake’s steady chatter had grated on her nerves, Gracie liked Dylan’s sole company even less. She pressed onward with the determination of MacDuff after a woodchuck.
He pulled her to a stop beside a picnic table. “Hang on a second,” he commanded. “We’re going to talk about this.”
The booths around the docks buzzed with volunteers preparing for the expected crush. Not too many festivalgoers thronged the area yet, but enough of Gracie’s friends and neighbors were within sight to make her hesitant about creating a scene.
“Okay, talk.” She looked at her watch. He took a seat on the middle of the plank bench, and Gracie perched at the far end. “You have five minutes.”
“She’s not my fiancée.”
She wondered if he was always that tenacious or just that practiced of a liar. “Do you have any kind of relationship with her?”
“We went out a few times,” he admitted. “It was mutually beneficial, but never serious, never exclusive.”
“Why do people think otherwise?”
“We went to a movie premier together, a couple of charity events, things like that. Places where there were photographers. They liked the pairing of Dylan and the Diva, I guess. Maya liked the publicity.” With each sentence, he inched along the bench toward her. “I’d just as soon the media not discuss the details of my private life. But they’re going to anyway, and my mother always advised ignoring it. Trying to set them straight usually makes it worse.”
Damn. She wished she didn’t believe him. “There’s no engagement, no understanding between the two of you?” She wanted to leave no room for further misunderstandings.
“None. Did Maya say we were engaged?”
She took a moment to think back to the model’s exact comments. Directly beside her now, he settled an arm around her shoulders. His closeness fogged her thoughts. “No.”
“Believe me, if we were engaged, Maya would announce it with fanfare.”
“She wants to be married, but you don’t?” Not completely reassured, she allowed him to keep his arm around her.
“She wants my money and my fame. And I might want to be married, but not to Maya.” He touched a finger to her chin. “Maybe someday, to—” He tipped her chin upward, his mouth hovering above hers. “Someone else.” He finished the thought with a kiss.
“To someone like Maya?” Gracie asked against his mouth.
“Nothing like her.”
She believed him and let him kiss her the way he seemed to want to, the way she wanted. And she didn’t remain aloof. She couldn’t. His kiss gave too much for that, demanded too much from her. She kissed him and kissed him until she could no longer breathe.
They pulled apart to discover a group of Gracie’s friends and neighbors gathered around watching. Cheering, actually. A couple of them had cell phones in hand, recording the moment. And unfortunately, a stranger with a professional camera took aim just a few feet away.
“Damn.” Dylan turned her away from the spectators, hiding her face in his shoulder. “Welcome to my world.”
Jumping up, he pulled her along with him. She had no idea where they were headed, only that they were headed there fast. The townspeople dispersed, going about their business. The photographer tried to follow, but Dylan zigged and zagged an erratic path through the booths. A little way along the block, he looked over his shoulder before ducking into McStone’s.