He physically hauls me from my car as the wind rages against us. “And 1998 still has everyone around here traumatized. Thirty-four people died.”
I’m not sure what to say.
“I’m sorry,” I say meekly. “I really didn’t know it was going to be so bad out.”
Dave sighs and pushes a hand through his hair. “You scared the shit out of me, okay? You were supposed to be following me home, and then you were gone. And with your arm? You probably shouldn’t even be driving.”
“It was so beautiful out there. By the water. Among all the boats,” I say as I huddle against him and then get into his car. “God, that fishing village feel is so intoxicating, huh? That salty smell everywhere?”
He drives over the bumpy roads and reluctantly smiles. “It is.”
After I’ve licked my wounds, I ask, “So, you heard that conversation I had with Anj? She called you an eavesdropper, so—”
“I’m not an eavesdropper, per se,” he says in protest and then lets a smile come through. “And not a stalker either. Just wanted to make sure you both got home safely. But, yes, I did happen to overhear your talk.”
“Oh.”
He navigates over several slippery spots. “And I think your hair is beautiful. Are you not obsessed with your coloring like I am? Jesus, it’s stunning. Drew me into you immediately. Redheads should never be put in unappealing categories. They should only be in the best. Jessica Chastain? Beth inYellowstone? Julianne Moore? Emma Stone? Gillian Anderson dyed her hair for years to be a redhead.”
I sit up in my seat. “Did you know maintaining dyed reds is the worst? The color fades out super fast, so it’s at least a monthly commitment. Kudos to Gillian and the others who commit.”
Dave puts a hand on my shoulder and then eases his hand up a bit so that his fingers work through my locks. “So, enjoy your natural color. It’s so gorgeous and so sexy.”
Despite my fair skin, I am not prone to blushing, but I’m glad we’re driving at nighttime.
“The weather? I didn’t think it’d be an issue driving home.” I about crumple. “Did I slaughter my new car? After eight years, I finally got a new one, and I killed it in one night, didn’t I?”
“Not at all,” he assures me. “Didn’t see any damage. I already have a call out to a friend who can tow it. You just hit a rough patch.”
Yeah, in more ways than one.
Chapter 15
“My arm really does fucking hurt. I didn’t think a break could be such a nightmare. People break bones all the time, and it’s nothing, right? I didn’t know it could be this awful. But I’m miserable. And already tired of this.”
Dave helps me clomp into the house while wrangling some of the bags that I was hauling in from my stuck car. “Okay, so just be miserable for a while,” he suggests. “Be in pain. You know, accept it.”
“I bought all this stuff to make dinner. I wanted to do something nice for you. Although I don’t even know what I have because Anj just threw things into my cart,” I say with a laugh.
“Just be miserable for a while,” he says again. More seriously, serenely this time. He’s not talking about just my wrist.
After a time, I finally answer, “I’m not ready to. It’s too much. This trifecta of Patrick, my arm, this stupid cat who probably wants to be thrown back in that Boston alley? I’m not winning at anything.”
David silently takes over, unloading my groceries and gently moving me aside when I try to help. He sets me down in a comfy chair and pours me a glass of wine. I work on slowing my breathing and not thinking about anything real.
After I’ve calmed and while I’m checking on my cat and feeding that spiteful thing—who again hisses at me when I offer him food—I hear Dave laugh from the kitchen.
It’s my cue. I hold up my phone in anticipation of something cute, and it’s so fun to capture this moment.
“These weren’t random ingredients Anjanette picked out.” Dave is smiling, less resistant and shy about being on camera. Maybe even liking it a bit. “It’s her favorite of mine that she wants me to put back on the menu.”
“And that dish is?”
“Just watch and wait. And why do you even want me in a post?” he asks as he unloads bags.
I shrug. “I’m not above sharing a bit of eye candy, alongside such good food.”
“So, I’m eye candy, huh?” he asks. He gives me that flirty Resort Dave smile that first drew me in. “You’re bananas.”
