Chapter Nine
Melody
Thursday night I flipped the closed sign on the front door of the shop and headed into the back to pull out my boxes of heart-themed window dressing. I spent a great deal of time and effort on my window displays and changed them frequently. If there was a theme, I had decorations for it. Easter, Halloween, Fourth of July, Christmas, of course, plus some beach and vacation-themed displays for the summer. It took me several hours every time I switched them, but the effort was worth it when people told me they were drawn into the store because of my display.
I popped in my ear buds and starting sorting through everything, putting aside the things I wanted to use this year. I’d decided on a silver and red theme, centered around black and red lingerie. I had some gorgeous new pieces that had come in last week that I’d held on to for just this reason. They were all steamed and ready to be put out first thing tomorrow. After I went through the three boxes I’d pulled out, I realized my Christmas boxes had a lot of silver accessories I could use, as long as they weren’t blatantly holiday themed. Some silver snowflakes would be appropriate since it was a ski resort town.
I’d just returned the last Valentine’s Day box back to its spot on the shelf and started to pull out a Christmas box when strong arms wrapped around my thighs, startling me, and making me almost fall off my stepstool.
I reached out to steady myself while letting out a scream. A scream I knew no one would hear at eight-thirty on a weeknight. The shops on either side of me closed at seven on Thursdays, as did I.
An earbud was yanked out of my ear as I struggled against the intruder’s grip.
“Calm down, Melody.” When I heard the voice, I relaxed, and so did his grip on me.
I pulled the other ear bud out of my ear and turned around in his arms. “Dixon, what are you doing here? You scared the crap out of me.” I pushed him back and stepped down off the stepstool, my heart still racing.
“What am I doing here?” he repeated incredulously. “What are you doing here?”
“It’s my shop. I told you I was going to work on the window displays tonight,” I replied, the remains of my fear making me snap at him.
He looked up at the ceiling and took a deep breath. “I know it’s your shop. What I mean is what are you doing in the back room with the front door unlocked and your music up so loud you couldn’t hear me shout your name when I was standing right behind you?”
Oh. Shit.
“I guess I forgot to lock the door.” Dixon did not like that answer one bit.
“You guess you forgot to lock the door? Do you know how dangerous that is? Anyone could have walked in here and hurt you. Did you think about that?” His anger was a palpable thing between us, and I nervously started chewing on my thumb.
“I’m sorry. I’m usually so good about locking up. I was worried about how your conversation with your grandfather went—” That was apparently the wrong thing to say because he cut me off with a hand slashing through the air.
“Stop right there, young lady. You’re in enough trouble as it is. Do not try to blame this on me.” He ran his hands through his hair in frustration and took another deep breath.
I shifted nervously from foot to foot, deciding to keep my mouth shut.
“Okay. Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m far too worked up to deal with this right now, so we’re going to work on your window displays and then we’re both going to go home. Tomorrow night, Grace is closing for you, right?”
I nodded. “Yes, because we’re going on a date.”
“Our plans have changed. We’re going to spend the night in, at your house. I’ll make dinner,” he announced.
“You don’t have to do that, Dixon,” I protested, not understanding where he was going with this. But he quickly cleared up my confusion.
“I think you’ll much prefer staying in after the punishment you’re going to get for your carelessness tonight.” His tone was dark and left no room to doubt his meaning.
I gasped in shock at his words. “What do you mean? It was an accident. I didn’t mean to leave the door unlocked.”
“I understand that you didn’t mean to, but it doesn’t change the fact that something really bad could have happened here tonight. Your safety must be your number one priority. I care about you, and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.” He gentled his tone, but not the intensity with which he spoke. “You could have been robbed, beaten, raped, or worse. Just saying that terrifies me.”
“I’m sorry, Dixon. I’ll be more careful.” I didn’t want to worry him, and I definitely didn’t want anything bad to happen to me. I also didn’t want the punishment he was talking about. But my promises fell on deaf ears.
“I know you’ll be more careful. And I’m going to reinforce that lesson tomorrow night.” He paused and took a breath, then walked over to the stepstool in front of my storage shelf. “Now which box do you need to get down?”
I contemplated trying to talk him out of it but decided to leave it alone for now. Tomorrow he’d be calmer, and I’d be able to reason with him. He’d understand that it was just a little mistake. No big deal.
The next night I opened my door at seven-thirty, my stomach in knots as it had been all day, to find Dixon looking handsome in dark jeans, a black sweater, and a black wool coat. His arms held two grocery bags.
“Come in,” I stepped back and let him enter. “How was your day?”
He set down the bags, took off his boots, and hung his coat on one of the hooks in the wall. “It was good. How was yours?”
He leaned in to give me a kiss and some of those knots untwisted. I had been dreading this moment all day. Would he barge in and demand I bend over for a spanking immediately? Would he still be angry with me? Would he be cool and indifferent? But he seemed to be fine. Normal.
“It was good. Our windows received a lot of compliments today.” We’d had fun last night, hanging decorations and dressing mannequins. Dixon had some experience from doing his own displays, though displaying lingerie was far different from displaying hardware.
“That’s good. I think they turned out pretty nice.” He followed me into the kitchen, bags in hand, and I could feel his eyes boring into my back.
“Do you want something to drink?” I asked, beginning to feel nervous again. “What do you need me to do to help you with dinner?”
“Did you preheat the oven?” he asked, putting things into the fridge and moving around my kitchen like it was his.
“Yes, it’s all set.”
“I’ll put the chicken in the oven and then we can go have a chat in the other room while it bakes.” He pulled out a foil-covered baking pan and slid it straight into the oven.
“What are we having?” I asked, desperate to stall this ‘chat’ he wanted to have since I suspected there would be very little talking happening.
“Chicken caprese with a side of pasta and a salad.” He took two bottles of water out of the fridge and gestured toward the family room. “Let’s go, young lady.”
I walked in the direction he pointed, dragging my feet the entire way there.
“Can’t we talk about this, Dixon?” I suggested. “Like two adults, on the couch, upright.”