Wedding at Wildwood by Lenora Worth Page A

he shrugged again, then gave her a bitter smile. “I guess I was just lonesome. I guess I just thought we could talk.”
    Completely confused, she said, “Then why did you tell me you wanted to kiss me again?”
    “Just flirting,” he said, his face blank, his tone indifferent. “Won’t happen again.”
    “Okay,” she said as she hurried to catch up with him. Behind them, the sun was snuggling up against the tree line. Another beautiful summer sunset. Isabel wished she had her camera. She also wished Dillon didn’t walk so fast. “Listen, if you want to talk, that’s fine—”
    “I’m over it now,” he said, his words curt and clipped. “I’ll go on home and talk to myself.”
    Feeling smaller by the minute, she grabbed his arm. “Dillon, I mean it. I don’t mind talking. And I’m a good listener.”
    He gave her a harsh laugh. “I’ve heard that line before, sweetheart.”
    “It’s not a line. I…oh, I don’t know what kind of games you’re playing.”
    They were in the cotton patch now, moving down the dirt lane toward the main road. Off in the distance, the putter of a tractor’s grinding motor vibrated through the field. But Dillon kept on walking.
    Finally running to match his stride, Isabel yanked him by the arm. “Slow down, for goodness’ sake.”
    He turned then to stumble into her arms, his eyes raking her face with longing and regret, while his hands gripped her elbows. “I gotta keep moving, Issy.”
    “Why?”
    He lowered his head to hers. “Because if I stop, if I keep standing here with you in my arms, I’m gonna do something we’ll both regret.”
    She understood what he meant, but she didn’t try to pull away. “Let’s talk about this, Dillon.”
    He shook his head. “You see, there’s the rub. I don’t want to talk.”
    “But you said you needed someone to talk to.”
    “I’ll find someone else.”
    “I’m here.”
    His eyes, so misty gray, so clear, held hers. “This is a bad idea.”
    Not understanding, but wanting to desperately, she protested. “No, Dillon. We can be friends. We can help each other through this wedding.”
    “Can we?”
    “Yes. I promise. I know it’s hard for you, being here again. I’ll help you.”
    “Will you?”
    Isabel looked up at him, at his face, so open now, so willing to trust her. She saw hope in the clouds banking in his eyes. “I’ll try.”
    “And what if I try to kiss you again?”
    “You wouldn’t, would you?”
    He touched a finger to her lips. “I want to, right here, right now.”
    “Dillon—”
    “I want to, Issy.”
    Isabel felt a sigh move through her. A strange humming sound lifted out over the wind, maybe it was her heart beating much too fast. Somehow, she knew, knew that they’d never be able to just talk. There was a sweet, special something here that she’d never felt before with any other man.
    “Issy?”
    She had her eyes closed. “Hmmm?”
    “I’m going to kiss you.”
    She sighed right along with the pine trees. “Okay.”
    “Okay, I just wanted to warn you.”
    “Okay.”
    Dillon leaned down to pull her close. With one hand pulling through the tangles of her long hair and the other one gentling on the small of her back, he lowered his head to hers. Knowing that he shouldn’t be doing it. Knowing that she deserved so much more than he had to offer her. Knowing that they’d both be moving on soon.
    Knowing that it felt so right, so pure, so wonderful that he’d never be able to let her go. And while he kissed her, he thanked the God he’d so often fought against for giving him the strength to come home again, to find her here. Even though Dillon hadn’t relied on prayer in a long time, he prayed about his feelings for Isabel, and he asked God to release him from all the bad memories. But maybe The Good Lord didn’t want him to forget. Maybe he’d been asking for the wrong things.
    It didn’t matter right now. Right now, he felt a burst of sheer joy, felt his heart settling down