And she’d countered with “You mean quality time.”
“Yeah, that one.” Benny chuckled. “Same thing, right? Tomato—tomahto?”
Martha gave him the stink face, then turned to Dakota. “And yours?”
Dakota’s way of showing love—love for a woman, a friend, the community at large—was through acts of service. He felt happiest when he knew that his actions were making someone’s life better, that he’d relieved a burden, taken something onerous off the table.
Rose hadn’t allowed that.
He was all for strong, independent women. If he had a type, that was what he found attractive. But that didn’t mean there weren’t ways to help. For one woman he dated, she despisedpumping gas. So he made sure that when she was driving them, they stopped by the gas station so he could do it for her. Same with coffee, she didn’t hate making coffee, but when he was over at her house, he’d set up the coffee pot for the next morning, so it was ready when she woke up. She said that gesture had made her feel cared for.
Big was good; little was just as good. Dakota liked the settled, happy feeling that came from an act of service.
The only time Rose allowed that was when her kids' rabbit died. It had been a beautiful lop-eared bunny named Lollipop. She told him how the kids would sit on the couch after a day of overstimulation at their day care and pet the bunny to calm their bodies and help them settle down for their night routine. When the bunny died, Rose, even though she was a nurse, couldn’t make herself reach into the cage and take out the dead rabbit. She called him, sobbing into the phone. He’d had to wait long minutes while she just cried before she could explain the situation and ask if he could get rid of the dead bunny before the kids came back from their dad’s house.
Dakota had been out training with Tank, and they were miles from the car. The window to get in and out without the kids seeing him was tight. To Tank’s delight, they’d sprinted the whole way back to the parking lot.
It was the first time Rose had asked him for something; there was no way he’d let her down.
And apparently, it was also the last time she’d ask.
Dakota was genuinely hopeful for her. She had those two little kids, and if she loved their dad and wanted to work on that, more power to them.
But now he had a fist full of flowers, and he was on his way to the airport.
A taxi turned the corner, and Dakota lifted his free hand to signal it.
As the cab pulled up to the open space on the curb, Dakota put his hand on the back handle. Movement in his peripheral caught his attention.
A woman sprang through the doors at the medical building. The wind whipped her long brown hair across her face.
Her body language was pure fury.
As she pulled the hair from her eyes, she spotted the taxi and jogged forward, her eye on the driver. It seemed she missed Dakota standing there holding the door handle.
The taxi driver shifted his glance from the woman to him, looking like he didn’t want a fight. Dakota sent him a wink to let him know it was okay. This woman obviously was going through something, and she’d just run out of a medical building. She could have just received a terrible diagnosis.
Dakota pulled the door open for her.
“Here you go,” he managed. It washer, the woman from the race. Different clothes, Makeup today. But he’d recognize her anywhere. It was her. How crazy was that?
Dakota’s face flamed red, and his body did that same odd atomic particle dance it had at the finish line of the mud race.
He really couldn’t say that his body was reacting to the stranger.
Correlation was not causation, after all.
He mentioned the doctor to Benny that morning, but maybe he was the one who needed a once-over. What the hell was wrong with him?
As she climbed into the cab, her eyes changed from anger to fatigue in a flash. “I’m sorry. Were you … That was … I didn’t …”
He sent her a warm smile. “You’re fine.”
She pursed her lips and nodded. It looked like she was struggling, and Dakota took the gesture as a thank-you.
Dakota bent, handed the woman his flowers, and shut the door.
He watched her until the cab disappeared in the traffic.
