Sort of. Although I didn’t actually have any claim on him.
Despite my hopelessly gigantic crush on Dean, there was no chance he would ever look at me as anything more than his best friend’s daughter—an endearing pest who wouldn’t stop yapping about Christmas.
Sierra cocked her head to the side as she assessed Dean with another look.
“How old did you say he was again?”
I chewed my lower lip and tore my gaze away, studying the books before me. I trailed a fingertip down the spines.
“Um…I didn’t.”
Sierra shifted the stack of books in her arms and started ticking off with her fingers.
“Well, if he grew up with your dad, and your dad just celebrated his fiftieth—”
“Stop,” I whispered. “Don’t count that high. I know the age gap is…a lot. You don’t need to put a number on it.”
Besides, I already did the math. Over and over. His forty-eight to my twenty-five. I winced. There was really no way to make those numbers sound better than they actually were.
Sierra fixed me with a look that said,you’re hopeless.
“What?” I demanded.
“Are you just pining from a distance forever then? You’re never going to make a move?”
I huffed and grabbed a book blindly off the shelf, paying no attention to the title. I flipped through the pages mindlessly, desperate for a distraction.
“Wow,” Sierra said softly. “You’ve never hesitated to flirt before. I didn’t think it was possible for you to get cold feet.”
“I don’t have cold feet,” I protested, slotting the book into my basket. “It’s different with other guys, okay? It’s…easier, when I don’t feel anything for them.”
“So, you’re not flirting with Dean on purpose because you like him.”
“Exactly,” I said. “What if Dean doesn’t feel the same way that I do? Confessing that I have a crush on him would just make everything awkward. It would kill me to find out that I’m…I’m nothing to him.”
“Ruby,” Sierra said softly. “You’re not nothing.”
My throat grew thick and I adjusted the basket on my arm, fiddling with the handle.
“I’ve never felt like this with anyone before, Sierra,” I said, my voice pained. “It’s wonderful and awful at the same time. Everyone thinks I’m flirting my way through town because I’m such a tease, but I’m really just…dancing around the one guy I truly want.”
Sierra’s gaze softened with understanding.
“I wish I had some words of wisdom to offer, but you know how I ended up with Dash. A drunken kiss and a proposal of marriage. I got lucky, since I’ve been stuck with him ever since. I couldn’t shake him, even if I wanted to.”
I sighed and plucked another book off the shelf, scanning the cover with a leather-clad, tattooed hero who bore a surprising resemblance to Dean. We were scouring our favorite spot in the whole store—the romance section. After less than thirty minutes of browsing, my basket was already half full.
“Maybe I’ll stick to fictional men instead,” I said. “They’re less complicated, right?”
Sierra chuckled.
“That entirely depends on the book.”
Dash rounded the corner, with Dean close on his heels.
“Found them,” he announced. “Told you they would be here. What are you two ladies whispering about?”
He crowded Sierra against the shelves, hooking an arm around her waist. She gazed up at him through her lashes and slid the top book off her stack, holding it up for his inspection.
