* * *
We return Bessie and Balaster to my apartment, and this time, Rosita is lying in wait like a lioness. Her eyes nearly come out of her head when she sees Dylan, and she struggles to control herself throughout our brief visit.
She recognizes him from television and tells him this at least ten times. She also repeatedly mentions that she knows “nothing about sports” but she adores “a strong man.”
“Okay, great.” I give her a look to shut her up.
“Jasalie, you look happy.” She turns to Dylan. “Jasalie’s been so lonely. Her last boyfriend was the pits.”
“Rosita!” I glare at her.
Dylan stands between us, the grin on his face getting bigger.
“We’re leaving, and I won’t be home for two days,” I say as a way to end the conversation. “Thank you so much for taking care of the cats. I promise to take you out for an amazing dinner—just the two of us—when I get home.”
Rosita waves away my thanks. “I’ve got nothing else to do, and the kitties keep me company.”
Dylan tells her good-bye, and we go to leave, but before I can stop her, Rosita launches herself into his arms.
“You seem like such a nice man. Take good care of Jasalie. She comes off all tough, but she’s got a very tender heart underneath all that strength.”
Oh. My. God.
Dylan’s arms go around her in a hug. “I know she does. I will.”
“Rosita.” My face is on fire. “Let go of him.”
Another pat to Dylan’s cheek from Rosita, and we’re finally down the stairs and around the corner.
“Sorry about that,” I mutter as we reach the carport.
Dylan cups my cheek with his hand. “She cares about you. You don’t have to apologize.”
He’s right. I nod into his hand and kiss the palm quickly.
Then I gesture to my car. “Here she is. Ready to try her out? I’ll drive first.”
“Sure. I’ll park my car in your space?” Dylan says.
I can’t keep myself from laughing. “Yeah, that’s the safest thing to do. I’m laughing because this won’t cause too much talk in my complex; ‘Jasalie’s car has mysteriously upgraded to a Mercedes.’”
Dylan’s expression changes for a second, but then he ducks into his car so fast I can’t ask him about it. I go about moving my car out of the carport. Then, he puts his in, and as he climbs into the passenger seat of my car, I say to him, “What were you just thinking?”
“Nothing.”
“What?”
“You’ll freak out, and I don’t want you to. It was just a fleeting thought.”
I keep the car in park. “What is it?”
“Just hypothetically speaking, go with me on this, okay?” he says. “Think of it like a fantasy football game.”
“Okay.” I put the car into drive and pull into the alley.
“In my fantasy, I wish we could live together, Jasalie. At the house in Malibu. It could be ours.”
I freeze and hit the brakes.
