My chest heaves with a raw breath. What is this between us? The push and pull, the scramble for words, it's almost painful.Getting my bearings, I say, "You can blame your cousin for that." It would've sounded better if my breathy, soft voice hadn't betrayed me.
Dom's gaze roams my face as he sucks his lower lip between his teeth. "Believe me, I do."
We stare each other down. A face-off in a restaurant parking lot with distant sounds of kids squealing at the splash pad.
"Your turn," Dom finally says.
"My turn for what?"
"Tell your side."
"There's nothing to tell. I overheard you, and I got the hell out of there."
"Explain why I was paying the bill with the bartender who, by the way, became very hostile in my absence, when a group of young ladies crowded around me and began belting out Happy Birthday."
Before I realize it, I'm laughing. Giggling, really, and I don't giggle.
Dom narrows his eyes, pushing off my car and stepping in front of me. He doesn't lean closer, doesn't take up any more physical space, but somehow he envelops me. His smell. His persona. His emotions.
"What's funny, Menace?" A line of consternation forms between his eyebrows. His lips are full and upturned enough to let me know he is amused.
"Halston's hostility was out of female solidarity when she saw me leaving. She didn't know what happened until the next time I was in there. But the singing girls was absolutely me."
A flash of appreciation crosses his blue eyes. "You're diabolical."
Is thispraise? A warm glow spreads through me.Absolutely not.No. There's no way Ilikeit. Unacceptable. To neutralize the fuzzy feeling, I place my hands on my hips, ratcheting upthe belligerence in my tone when I say, "I'd overhead you saying terrible things about me, and it was made worse by the fact that you otherwise appeared to be having a good time. What else should I have done?"
"I'd expect nothing less. Not from you."
"Not from me? Why does that sound like an insult?"
"It's not meant as one. Given what I know of you, the reaction was appropriate."
"We've already established that you don't know me."
He arches a brow. "But that's going to change, isn't it?"
"How so?"
"Have you forgotten the road trip in our near future?"
With Dom standing this close to me, I've nearly forgotten my name. "Of course not."
"I'm flying back to New York tomorrow afternoon. I'll be there for a couple days, replenishing my wardrobe and getting what I need from my office so I can work on the road."
"You sure you can work from the RV? What if there isn't Wi-Fi? What if there's an author emergency? What if the motor home Savage Grandma booked is actually a piece of junk and the folding table collapses and your laptop falls and breaks and makes you miss a meeting and your boss is furious and then you get fired?"
Dom spends a few seconds letting my fatalistic monologue sink in, then says, "It will take a lot more than that to get rid of me."
My head dips sideways. "Like, how much?"
"I'm not telling."
"The threat of losing your job won't stop you from coming on the road trip?"
He shakes his head.
"What about..." I search my memory. "If every restaurant we go to I tell the waitstaff it's your birthday and they sing to you?"
