“You’re competitive, you’d have to be to streak across the finish line with the Cerberus crew.”
“I’m going to draw a distinction there. There are places to be competitive—on the field of battle, in a race, coming up against a problem that requires a solution—that does indeed flip that toggle in my brain. But walking around on the day-to-day? I’m not that guy. I don’t need to beat my chest and constantly prove myself.” He drizzled the salad with the dressing and leaned over the stove to stir his pots before turning off the element.
“But the toggle was switched on in Coronado.”
“Oh, it was on. You think you can make me cold? No way. You think I’ll drop from fatigue. Psh.” He pulled dishes from the cupboard and set them on the counter.
“I can see you now.” She smiled, then popped a carrot into her mouth.
“My turn – how did you drop the guy in the bar?” he asked, pulling cutlery from the drawer.
“Upper cut to the diaphragm. As he collapsed forward, he grabbed me – not for the second grope but stability as his brain did a little freak out. So I used his grip hand for the arm bar. Then Erica dropped onto his back. That wasn’t necessary, but a little whipped cream on the cake. He was on the ground, catching his breath. Because his biggest injury was probably his male ego—"
Dakota set the platters of food between the plates and added serving utensils. “Yeah?”
“I figure better to get his thighs apart and bend his legs, so he couldn’t get up. I like that move because if there’s any struggle, I can swift kick his nuts.”
Dakota lifted his bottle so it clinked with hers. “Badassery.”
“All day, every day.” Rylee felt perfectly content in that moment, as if everything wrong with the world existed on the other side of Dakota’s front door.
He sat on the stool across from her, suddenly looking serious. “Can I ask you for something?” he said softly.
Rylee stilled. She didn’t want Dakota to say some shit something that would force her from this lovely cocoon.
“I feel unreasonably connected to you for having just met.” He moved a hand to his heart. “I need you to promise me that, if my comfort around you makes you feel uneasy, you’ll tell me so I can adjust. I would never want my sense of ease to impact you by shifting a boundary that you want in place.”
“Fair enough.” She exhaled.
Okay. It wasn’t just Rylee then; Dakota was feeling it, too.
Chapter Seventeen
Dakota
Friday
Everything about yesterday evening was a surprise.Everything.
Dakota had a list of, oh, say, thirteen conversation starters that he could whip out on a first or second date to break the ice, and keep the conversation from hitting a sticky spot when attention shifted awkwardly to the weather or décor.
A lot of the questions on his list were clichés because he understood people got nervous. Dakota reasoned that pulling out a well-worn date-night question meant his companion probably had a honed reply. If that answer seemed promising and not too intrusive, Dakota could wander down the conversational path with them until another cliché question was needed to keep the momentum going.
What do you do for fun? Where have you traveled that you felt changed your perspective the most? How do you pick your next book?
It was surprising to him that his dates didn’t read, didn’t travel, and “just whatever” was fun.
That’s why he had a baker’s dozen on the tip of his tongue.
There had to be something to talk about.
Last night, over shrimp scampi, he hadn’t used any of his list with Rylee.
Conversation had flowed easily and freely between them.
Rylee was quick and funny. Any topic that he brought up, she could engage in either from a base of knowledge or a fount of curiosity. Humble and kind.Astonishing.
Too good to be true?
