Desiring Dylan - Suzanne Jenkins Page 0,19

I’m going to buy that townhouse. Your friend contacted me on Monday and made me a great offer. I’m going to take it.”

“That’s great! I love that place. If I didn’t already own my house down here, I’d consider it, too.”

When he hadn’t called her or texted all week, the shame and regret she felt almost ruined it for her now that they were planning their next weekend, but she made it an act of her will to get over it, to be receptive to whatever he was offering her now. What did she have to lose?

She never got used to it, though. When he didn’t call or text for a week at a time, she finally told him she was going to be the one to stay in touch because it wasn’t working for her the way he was doing it.

“That’s fine. You call daily if you want. I’ll let you know on days I have scheduled surgeries. If I don’t get back to you right away, it’s because I’m in the OR.”

Taking the lead in that way, soon he was slowly relinquishing all of the responsibilities for their relationship over to her, asking her what she wanted to do on a weekend instead of planning something. And when he did plan something, it often included his friends or family. Rarely did they do anything alone unless she initiated it. When she complained, he acted confused.

“I thought you wanted it this way.”

“Dylan, no. I don’t want to be in charge of everything.”

“It’s been nice,” he admitted. “This residency is becoming more exhausting, and I thought it was your way of helping.”

“Ah, no. But I’ll do what I can to help if things are that bad. How much longer do you have?”

“Less than a year. Hang in there.”

“Do you really want me to?”

“Landon, yes. What’s going on?”

He pulled her to his body, but she cringed, pushing him away.

“I need your attention, Dylan. At least a sign that you’re thinking of me.”

That week he tried, and she actually got a text from him every day.

By the end of the first year, she’d grown somewhat used to the cycle of drought and plenty with Dylan.

Until the day of reckoning when she discovered, the last of his friends and family to know, that she had two more years of this while he did the fellowship.

Chapter 4

A week after the funeral, Landon went back to work, and as solicitous as her coworkers were, it was still torture. Thankfully, they were finishing up preparations for a huge production of Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat, which would be a milestone for Landon. She wouldn’t have time to think of anything else but leading the costumes and set design departments. For weeks she was occupied in a wonderful frenzy of color and art and interesting people.

At night though, Kenny would surface in her thoughts. His sweet, generous love pierced the armor she’d surrounded herself with, and the grief would overtake her again. It was a cycle of pain, love, acceptance, and, rarely, joy when she allowed a precious memory to invade her thoughts.

Thanksgiving was right around the corner, and fortunately, she had to work. Thanksgiving Eve was opening night for the musical.

“I’ve never been so happy to work on a holiday,” she told Sukey.

“Me either. My in-laws are flying in from Denver for the play, and they can take over Thanksgiving dinner, too.”

Preparing for opening night took every bit of her concentration. Backstage, she had installed rows of metal clothing racks, and the colorful garments lined up filled her with pride. The employees who worked for her had come through once again.

When the long-awaited opening night finally arrived, she watched the audience file into the theater. Every show had been sold out for months, and anticipation was over the top. Landon was helping dress one of the actors in a complicated costume when Sukey came looking for her.

“You’ll never guess who I just saw in the front row.”

“Prince Harry.”

Everyone who heard Landon barked out laughing.

“No. Dylan Cross, MD,” she whispered.

Landon stayed focused on the costume. “You’re good,” she said, dismissing the actor. “Don’t sit down.”

Then she pushed Sukey to the end of the stage behind the curtain. “Where?”

“He’s with a woman.”

“I didn’t think he’d come to a play on Thanksgiving Eve alone.”

She peeked through a slit in the drape and counted. “Look six seats from the end.

Landon looked, and something stirred that she identified as jealousy, and that really ticked her off. “I’m going to go