“Could be he’s calling from out of town.”
Hope shrugged. “Maybe.” But she doubted it. “Wait here while I get my purse. Adam ran off before I could pay him.”
“Forget it. Adam lied about calling me and asking permission to work in your yard. He doesn’t get rewarded for lying. His punishment will be that he pulled your weeds for free.”
That sounded harsh to Hope. “Are you sure? He worked pretty hard.”
“I’m sure, but in the future, he doesn’t need my permission to work for you.”
“Are you saying it’s all right?”
“Yes. Whatever happened between us, and despite what you’ve done, I don’t believe you would interrogate Adam for your paper.”
She supposed he meant that as a compliment. He probably was under the mistaken assumption that he was being nice-the big jerk. She threw her gloves to the ground and walked toward him, stopping just inches away. “What I’ve done? I’ve done nothing, and someday you’re going to realize you’re a… you’re a…” She was so angry and frustrated, she couldn’t think of the right word.
One corner of his mouth twitched. “A what?”
He was laughing at her. He’d broken her heart, and now he was laughing at her. She folded her arms beneath her breasts and said, “A redneck sheriff who can’t even find one dwarf. I could understand it if there was a Little People of America convention in town, but there’s not.” His lips flattened and she pressed her luck. “How hard could it be to find a man who isn’t even four feet tall? It isn’t like he blends.”
“I’ll tell ya what, honey. If you didn’t have such a unique way of making frie
nds, you wouldn’t be stalked by a dwarf in the first place.”
He’d called her honey, which only enraged her more. “Get out of my yard.”
“Or you’re going to do what? Call the sheriff? Get a pen and take down the number. It’s nine-one-one.”
Hope stuck her hands on his chest and shoved. He didn’t budge and she tried again, pushing hard enough to lift her heels off the ground. The momentum of her body carried her forward, and her hands slid up the creases of his work shirt. She slammed into the solid wall of his chest, knocking the air out of her lungs.
Dylan’s hands grasped her waist, and for several prolonged seconds he held her as if he meant to shove her away. She saw herself in the reflection of his glasses, caught a glimpse of her shock and surprise, and then he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her onto her toes. He said something about leaving, but he lowered his mouth instead and kissed her. As always, he made her skin tingle and sent warm little shivers along her nerves. His hands swept her back as he pressed her into the warmth of his body. It had been so long and she missed him so much. She missed the scent of his skin and his touch on her. His tongue stroked hers, and the kiss caught fire.
Dylan groaned deep and in his throat, a sound of pure lust and frustration. It called to the deepest, basest part of her, and before she could answer, she did something she’d never done before. She found the strength to step away from his embrace before he sucked her in again.
She licked her moist lips and sucked air into her lungs. She felt dizzy and confused. He wanted her no matter how much he’d pretended he didn’t. “You’re a liar, Dylan Taber.”
“Me? I’m the liar?”
It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that she had finally found a man to love and he didn’t love her back. “You’re a hypocrite, too.”
He took off his sunglasses and shoved them in his pocket. “What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’re angry because I lied about who I really work for. It was one little lie that just kept getting bigger and bigger and gained more importance than it deserved. And you’re right, I should have told you before you found out, but you lied to me, too, Dylan. You lied when you told me Adam’s mother was a waitress.”
“I had a good reason for that.”
“Yes, you never trusted me.”
“I was obviously right not to trust you.”
Hope grabbed her gloves from the ground. “I’m tired of defending myself to you for something I didn’t do. For the last time, I didn’t call the tabloids.”
He looked at her as if he could stare a true confession out of her. “I’ll never know that for sure, will I?”
“No.” She shook her head. “You never will, because that means you’d have to believe in me, without proof. It means you’d have to have faith in me, but you’ll never do that, because you never really cared for me.”
“You’re wrong.” He raised his gaze to a point over her head, then said, “I cared.”
“Not enough.” She took one last look at the man she loved with all her broken heart. “And I deserve better than a man who doesn’t care enough for me.”