Yeah right. He should go. Business hours were from nine to five, Monday through Friday. Not one in the morning text messages to see if Dallas was sleeping or another text message suggesting a virtual lunch date to talk production. Greer had Dallas hook, line, and sinker, messing with his head.
Dallas pulled his cell phone free of the logoed company joggers he’d chosen to wear tonight to help represent and drive home the point of this being a work meeting. The front door pushed open. Greer’s blond head stuck through the opening. The guy had a way of keeping his head bent as his eyes lifted that made his piercing gaze reach inside Dallas’s chest and give his heart a much-needed embrace. After Greer looked him up and down, he pushed the door wide open and held it with one hand as he stepped fully outside.
“You’re late. I’d decided you weren’t coming.”
“It’s six-o-five,” Dallas said. At least that had been the time when he’d exited the vehicle.
“If I’m not five minutes early, I’m late.” Greer’s crooked grin tugged at the corners of his lips, amused by his little joke. “What’s going on there?” Greer nodded to the cell phone in his hands.
“I don’t know…” Dallas started to say, only to get a disbelieving cock of a brow and tilt of the head from Greer. “Maybe I should go.”
“Why?” There had to be four feet of space separating them. Greer stepped forward, the door slamming shut behind him. Neither moved another step, but their magnetism, that physical phenomenon always pulling Dallas to Greer, was drawn taut. Held together so powerfully, it felt binding. Dallas just didn’t understand the reason for their chemistry.
Dallas gave a nervous chuckle. Of course, Greer had to know why he should leave. There were a million reasons this was a terrible idea. Instead of voicing any of them, Dallas stuck with the most basic difference between them, and the one that mattered the least. “I’m in joggers. You’re in slacks.”
Greer looked down at his clothes then over at Dallas’s, giving him a slow toe to head, full body inspection. Confusion contorted Greer’s face, his expressive eyes turning perplexed. “You look great. Those are a great cut for your muscular thighs. I like the fitted look. No socks. Bold.” Greer waggled his brows as he reached back for the door, tugging it open and extending a hand in a sweeping motion. “I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve boasted my win to everyone within hearing distance. I haven’t told anyone you’re Biker101, but they believe you’re here to celebrate my big win.”
When Dallas didn’t readily step forward, Greer took a single step toward him and extended a hand to his elbow in a slow, deliberate motion. “If you’re a meat eater, Mac makes a burger for me that’s out of this world. He combines several kinds of ground meats, but the bastard won’t tell me the proprietary blend. You’d think twelve years of friendship and sharing a dorm room during our freshman year of college would count for something.”
If Dallas crossed the threshold of this restaurant, his life would fundamentally change forever. He had no doubts about that. Cautious by nature, he’d never been one to reach out and touch the flame. Fear of the unknown was almost too much to bear. Yet, he still stepped forward with Greer’s amber gaze holding his. What he saw in that gaze asked for his trust.
Time slowed. The subtle breeze cooled his heated face. A single bird chirped a sweet tune. Muted sounds of conversation flowed from those walking down the sidewalk behind him. Dallas was hyperaware of everything. Especially the man who held him loosely but refused to let him go.
Oh hell. When the time came for Dallas to regret this decision, he had to remember, he had no one else to blame but himself. With a deep, calming breath, he took the next step willingly.
Chapter 16
After three hours of dining, conversation, and game-playing, where Greer had systematically lost every round, proving today’s cycling win had been a fluke, he could easily say that Dallas Reigns was a gentleman through and through. There was no surprise when Dallas reached past Greer’s head, pushing open the front door before Greer could walk through. What he liked most about the move was that Dallas was close enough for Greer to breathe in the citrusy scent of his cologne.
Luckily, the unusually warm weather had held through their dinner. In the ever-changing plan dictated by each swing of Dallas’s mood, Greer was thankful nothing inhibited their short walk to his house.
“You sure know how to throw a dart,” Greer said over his shoulder.
“It was something my father taught us from the time we had the control to throw things. Some kids were taught baseball. We were taught darts and how to play pool. All three of us are fairly good. During the holidays, we’ve had some big competitions. There’s been a time or two they ended in a brawl. Donny’s got great aim; he can send a billiard ball flying right off the side of your head.” Dallas chuckled at some memory that didn’t seem all that fun, before he continued, “You know, real functional family stuff.”