Because I Can (Necklace Trilogy 2)

“You do know the entire place is going to talk about us, right?”

“Not if you treat me like a client and keep your hands off me,” he says, grinning. “But we both know you can’t do that. I don’t care what they talk about, baby. We’re together. Unless it bothers you, let them talk.”

“It doesn’t bother me.”

Approval lights his eyes. “Then feel free to put your hands all over my body.”

I laugh and the truth is, his reaction pleases me. It’s also the first time in my life I’ve ever really felt what I feel right now with Dash. And I can’t even explain what that is. It’s just right and good and more different than anything I expected to feel or even knew I could feel. “All right then,” I say. “Egg salad sounds good and they do have them prepped in the cooler.”

“Egg salad it is,” he says warmly, his eyes alight with approval of my reaction as if I’ve just agreed to a coming out of sorts. And I guess I have.

We exit the office and head to our left, toward the café. “You’ll be pleased to know that I didn’t wreck your car,” I inform him.

His lips curve. “That’s good to hear. I got you a car to use while you’re here. It’ll be here tomorrow afternoon.”

“You got me a car?” I glance over at him. “As in a rental?”

“Something like that,” he says noncommittally, holding the door to the café for me. “You’ll see when it gets here.”

I’m curious about the car, of course, I am, and that should be what is in my mind, but the “while you’re here” comment he made is what really kind of dampens my mood. We’re both living like I’m leaving, aren’t we? I seem to be going back and forth and all over the place in my assessment of me and him.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I say, wondering the cost of the car, not wanting him to have to pay my way, and needing to control my spending.

“No,” he agrees. “I didn’t have to do it. But I wanted to.”

His words and his eyes are warm all over again, and while I want to object to him spending money on me, we’re already at the café counter. For now, I focus on food. We each make our selections and settle in across from each other at a small, intimate corner table. “Do you think the whole press thing worked?” I ask, opening the plastic container holding my sandwich.

“It’s our story and I’m sticking with it,” he says, and while he digs into his sandwich, I’m wondering how he dealt with the aftermath of his fighting in the past. Because obviously, this isn’t his first rodeo where that’s concerned.

The bottom line for me is that Dash enchants the world with his stories but it’s his story, his real story, that I want to know. I wonder if I will ever truly know him. For now, though, I set aside the hunt for his real self and focus on this day and this moment. “Something weird happened today,” I announce.

“Weird how?”

“Remember how I told you that man showed up at the shelter?” I ask.

His lips press together. “The one you gave your name and didn’t get his?”

“Yes,” I say primly. “That one. That man showed up here today asking for Allison. The staff thought he was asking for me so I met him in the lobby. He was confrontational with me, demanding my reason for being here at all. Tyler showed up just in time and sent me away, but I lingered and watched them interact. They had words, not good ones, and then the man left. Apparently, he’s some really wealthy finance guy. Brad Waters is his name.”

“Brad Waters,” he says. “Interesting.”

“Interesting how?”

“Aside from the fact that Hawk Legal represents some of his brands,” he says, “he and Tyler have a colorful background.”

“How colorful?” I ask.

“Our time right now is way too limited for that topic. I’ll leave it at that until later when I’m certain you’ll pick my brain.” He changes the subject. “I guess you decided to see the auction through at Hawk Legal?”

I hesitate to drop the subject of Brad, but I accept the swift change of topic with his promise of more on the Brad topic later. “Tyler and I talked,” I state. “I told him I won’t be used against you. He, of course, told me if I resign again, I’m gone for good. Paraphrasing, of course, but that’s the general gist.”

“Of course,” he says, dryly. “That signing I have in New York is a charity event on Halloween weekend. Books for Kids is a good organization that strives to stop illiteracy. You’re passionate about books and reading, and so am I. And yes, I’m trying to sell you on why you should go with me. And as a bonus, I can see your apartment.”