“So,” he twirled his pasta, “tell me how you got into the boutique business.”
He was asking about her. Wanting to know her. She wasn’t sure if opening up like this was really wise, but she went with it since everything in his voice and how he looked at her was genuine.
“I expect a fair exchange,” she said.
He grinned. “Of course you do. What, you give me some details about you, and I do your chores? You have some windows you need replaced?”
“No, I want to know how you got into the search and rescue business.”
The question seemed to shock him. Did no one really ask about his life?
“Beauty before brawn,” he said.
“Well, I’ve always liked pretty things.”
He snorted and nodded and took a bite of pasta. He was going to make a crack about her upbringing or class or whatever, she could tell, so she moved past that quickly.
“I’ve also wanted something of my own. Something I could create and be proud of.” She twirled her pasta now, but it was so she could avert her eyes.
“You should be proud,” he said. “That’s a hell of a shop you have. All class and perfection. You did that.”
His words made warm fuzzies dance up her spine. She was so used to defending every move she made. Explaining and re-explaining her choices, decisions, and above all, why she’d left. No one took her seriously. Not her father and his weekly calls, trying to get her to come home. Not with the looks everyone had given her as she’d left town, like they were basically waiting for her to fail.
But Dex was different. He told her to be proud. And more, he looked at her like he believed she could succeed.
“Is that why you have all those lists?” he asked. “A way to organize and check off all the things you want?”
She thought about that for a moment. “I guess it is. I figure if I write it down, it makes it real. If I can tackle a certain bullet point, I have physical proof that I can do it.”
He nodded. “That makes sense. It’s like taking a concept and turning it tangible.”
She smiled. “Exactly.” Which was why she was so stuck on this independence idea. All the things she’d listed, from sex, to success, to desires, it was all part of checking off reasons she was okay. Competent. Whole. Something to cling to when she was worried failure was creeping in.
“Will you tell me something on your list that you haven’t done yet?” he asked. “And just assume that I have all the bedroom stuff covered.” He gave her a wink, and she couldn’t help but blush a little. But his eyes were serious for a moment. “Something important to you,” he said.
She bit the inside of her cheek and debated telling him one thing she’d been dying to do. One that would horrify her parents and would make her feel more free than anything else she could think of.
“I want to fall,” she said.
He frowned. “Fall? Like trust buddies at camp? You fall back, and I’ll catch you kind of thing?”
“No,” she laughed. “Like fall from a high place. I don’t care if it’s skydiving or bungie jumping… I just want to look at the world below me and fall.”
He raised a brow. “Is that right?” The way he said it made her think his mind was working on a wicked idea. After a second of him obviously cooking up something, he nodded and took another bite of his food. “Noted,” he said with a full-on smile, dimples and all.
“Now it’s your turn to tell me about you,” she said.
“Not much to tell, princess. Pretty simple guy.”
“You know it’s the guys who call themselves simple who are the most complex.”
He laughed. “I could poke holes in that theory all day long.”
She was grinning like a fool again. This man was so easy to talk to. He held her attention and looked at her like he was listening.
“Come on,” she pushed. “I told you about my lists and all that. Give me something here.”
“I give what’s asked of me,” he said casually, but there was definitely more behind those words.
“Okay.” She could see that. He was a serve and protect kind of guy. “But what do you want?”
He looked at her like he didn’t understand the question. “I’m pretty happy,” he said. For some reason, Michelle didn’t one-hundred percent buy that. “I’ve been here my whole life. I have good friends. Good job I enjoy. Well, for the most part. Family.” He glanced at his plate and took another bite.
“When you grow up somewhere, you get a reputation,” she said carefully. “What’s yours?” She didn’t mean it in a bad way, but she knew this to be true. She was known back home as her last name, not as a person. If Dex had grown up here, sure, he had good friends and family, but what kind of reputation did he have? Her mind shot to what Natalie had said about him being a good guy…but a one night at a time kind of guy as well.
“It’s no secret I have a reputation,” he said. “But it’s not an overly bad one.”
“Is it an honest one?”