“Where is this brother of yours? I’d like to meet him.”
“Working. He’ll be there this afternoon.”
Lina closed the drawer carefully and eyed the drawer beneath it. “Can I see what’s in the next one?”
Dillon laughed. “Be my guest.”
She slid the next drawer open, which was filled with coins.
“Those aren’t collectibles. He tosses his change in there for the fun of it.”
“Mmm. Interesting.” She closed the drawer and folded her arms as she turned to face Dillon. “So, what do you collect, young man?”
“Nothing. Sorry to disappoint you, but I’m not all that interesting.”
He’d said it in jest, but her eyes grew serious as she studied him. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“You think I secretly collect stuff?”
She smiled. “No, I think you’re very interesting, but you don’t display it for everyone to see. Trent wants to be seen as unique, doesn’t he?”
Dillon shrugged. “I’ve never thought about it before, but yeah, I guess so. He’s embraced the fact that he never really fit in. His success is a revenge of sorts on the idiots who used to tease him in high school.”
“Success should never be based on high school. It’s a microcosm of insecurity we all spend the rest of our lives overcoming.”
Dillon eyed her curiously. “High school was rough for you?” Lina seemed like the type of person who could fit in anywhere. He certainly would have noticed her in high school.
“No, high school was great. But that doesn’t mean I didn’t see other people struggling. I wish I’d done more for others and worried less about myself. But hindsight is like that.” She looked over at him. “What about you? Or can I guess?”
He shrugged. “Sure, take a guess.”
Her light brown eyes studied him. They were warm and friendly, but penetrating, like she truly could read his thoughts.
“You had a few close friends, good guys. None of you were extremely popular, but not outcasts either. And you played a sport. Wrestling?”
“Cross country.”
“Dang. I should have guessed that.” She moved away from the display case and came to stand in front of him. Her hands smoothed across his shirt front, and he gulped a surprised breath down, trying to suppress his reaction to her touching him. Her fingers were like little lasers setting off every nerve ending they touched.
He tried to avoid her gaze, but she waited him out, and he finally gave in. The concern there made him feel like an idiot.
“Dillon, if you want me to play your girlfriend, we need to start now. Because if you react like this in front of your family, they’re going to wonder why you’re so terrified of me.”
“I’m not terrified.”
She dropped her hands to her sides, only to reach them forward and take his hands. Instinctively, his fingers rubbed the soft spot in her palms.
“Okay, that’s a bit better.” She gave his hands a squeeze before letting them go. “Ready to do this?”
“As ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.” How she could be excited about something that was already giving him indigestion was beyond him. His little brother better appreciate this.
***
They rode together in silence. Well, not total silence. Dillon drove a beat up old pickup truck and the road noise replaced the need for conversation. The whirr of the heater helped too.
Yes, this was probably going to be a disaster. They were already failing at looking like a couple. And yet, that thought didn’t bother Lina all that much. An occasional disaster made life interesting. She had determined a long time ago not to let fear play into her decisions. And while it certainly led to trouble she might have otherwise avoided, it also led to experiences and people that had richly blessed her life. Dillon seemed like a blessing type of person, hard to get to know, but worth it.
“What’s your favorite thing to eat at Thanksgiving?” Lina asked.
