The next night, Emma pulled up in front of Dean’s house. She grabbed her overnight bag from the back seat and turned around.
“Well, hey there, darlin’. Nice to see you again.”
Startled, she looked at the front porch of the house next door. There sat Dallas, as huge and gorgeous as she remembered him.
“Dallas?” she said walking up the path between the houses.
“The one and only.” His blue eyes were warm as he smiled at her. “How you doing?”
“Good. I’m good. What about you?” She gestured at his shoulder. “I heard what happened. Are you OK?”
“Fine. Just a flesh wound.”
She laughed. “God. I don’t know many people who’d call being stabbed by a maniac a ‘flesh wound’.”
“Well, like I said: I am the one and only, darlin’.”
“You are indeed.”
“Hey, Emma.” Dean was standing on his front porc
