Any pleasure I have over his invitation is quickly replaced by rejection. “No,” I say, images of his glorious home in my head, our home, right now, I correct. “It’s tiny and embarrassing.”
He leans in closer and softens his voice. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about anything with me, Allie. You know that, right?”
“I do know that,” I assure him. “You don’t make me feel less than you, Dash.”
“What do I make you feel, Allie?”
“Too much, Dash,” I reply softly. “Too much.”
His eyes lower to my mouth, lingering as if he’s wishing he could kiss me as if he’s thinking about doing it anyway. “Tell me about the guy who burned you, Allie.”
My pulse races. This is a topic I do not like, not one little bit. “Right now?”
“Yes. He’s in New York?”
“Yes. I thought our time was limited.”
“Give me the condensed version.”
“I didn’t live with him, if that’s what you’re getting at, but I was sort of, actually, engaged to him.”
His brows shoot up. “Engaged. Alright. I didn’t expect that. For how long?”
“Three months. The minute I said yes, he changed. Or maybe I changed. I don’t know. I never felt for him what I—” I stop myself. God, what was I about to say?
Dash narrows his eyes on me and he catches my hand under the table. “Finish that sentence.”
I comply. Almost. Not quite. “I told you how I feel about you, Dash. And it’s not how I felt about him.”
“And yet you said yes?”
“It’s complicated. If we were two pieces of a puzzle, we wouldn’t be working on the same puzzle.”
“And what are we?”
“Confusing. Undefinable.”
“Agreed,” he says. “You are nothing if not unexpected, cupcake.”
“I don’t know what that means.”
“Neither do I, but we’ll figure it out together.” He glances at his watch. “Damn. I have to get to my meeting.”
“And I need to give you the car keys.”
“Keep them, baby. I’m going to walk to the bookstore to sit there and write anyway. I’ll just stay there until you can meet me.”
“I should be able to take my work home by late afternoon.”
We enter my office and linger in the doorway, as he says, “Halloween is a Sunday but the signing is Saturday. Why don’t we leave Wednesday? That gives you time to go to Riptide, check on your apartment, and for me to take you to your favorite restaurant there.”
Not his favorite restaurant. Mine. “I’ll talk to Tyler and see if I can make it happen.”
“Remind Tyler that a charity event is a great place to find people willing to donate.”
He leans in and kisses me. “I’ll see you soon.” He exits the office then, but the scent of him, earthy and male, lingers in the room and teases my nostrils.
I’m still standing there, thinking about that undefinable something that is me and Dash, when my phone buzzes on my desk. Sighing, I sit down and grab the receiver. “Allison Wright,” I greet.
“Ms. Wright.”
The male voice is familiar, too familiar for my limited contact with the man. It’s Brad Waters. Suddenly on edge, I proceed with caution. “What can I do for you, Mr. Waters?”
“We should meet and don’t ask why. We both know why.”
Unease slides through me. “You can come back here.”
“We both know that’s not an option. Pick a location. I’ll meet you there.”
I could say no, but he’s a powerful man. He’s also a client of Hawk Legal. But that said, having been raised by a protective mother, I play it safe. “Cupcakes and Books in fifteen minutes.” And just for safe measure, I add, “My friends own it.”
“Fifteen minutes,” he confirms and disconnects.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I arrive at the bookstore through the bakery entrance, scanning the seating area to find the odd hour of two o’clock a quiet one, with all seats free. Adrianna is behind the counter, her long hair silky and beautiful around her shoulders, her smile bright as she greets me. “Hello, my love. We haven’t seen you in a few days.”
“Busy, busy, working on the charity event. Which reminds me, I need to order the cupcakes before you get booked, but now is not a good time. I’ll come by tomorrow.”
“That works. I haven’t seen Dash in here lately either. Did you edit his book?” She wiggles her eyebrows, most likely not talking about editing a book at all.
But I play dumb and reply like she is. “No, I didn’t edit his book. And he’ll be in soon.”
“He will? And you know this how?” Her smile is wide. “Are you two—”
“We are actually,” I say. “I guess you were right about how he looks at me.”
“And how you look at him. I need to know everything.”
The bells on the door chime and I turn to find Brad entering the bakery. I eye Adrianna. “We’ll have to talk later. I have a work meeting.”