“No.”
“Yes. I saw a guy tied to a post, begging someone, anyone, to whip his ass…and tough, burly dudes in chaps and leather vests everywhere. It was…enlightening.”
“So you forgot about your run and decided to join the fun instead, marking the beginning of your leather phase,” I said matter-of-factly.
“No, no, no. Not my kind of kink. I’m more interested in?—”
“Don’t. I don’t want to know your kinks.”
“Liar.” He refilled his wineglass, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “Everyone wants to know about kinks. It’s human nature.”
“You’ll regret telling me in the morning when you wake up with a hangover.”
“I’m not drunk, I’m tipsy. There’s a big difference. And I’m in the mood to celebrate. This is really happening. My life is going to change, and I’m ready for it.”
I smiled. “I’m happy for you.”
“Thanks. Can I ask you a personal question?” He snickered at my heavy sigh and lifted his glass. “You can tell me to fuck off, but this is bugging me and?—”
“What do you want to know?”
“I get the feeling there’s something sensitive going on with you and Freya. Maybe it’s something from the past that happened while you were together?”
I frowned. “Together?”
Dexter leaned close, dragging his sleeve in hisBolognesesauce. “She’s young for you, but she’s gorgeous and?—”
“Whoa! Stop right there. You’re wrong. Very, very wrong.” My brows knit hard enough to give me a headache.
“I am?”
“Yes. Christ, Freya’s like a sister to me. That’s…äcklig!”
Dexter wrinkled his nose. “What does that mean?”
“Gross,” I translated, skewering him with a WTF look. “I told you all along we were old friends. If she was a girlfriend, don’t you think I would have said so? I don’t lie. I don’t tell half-truths. I don’t?—”
“Okay, okay! Geez. Lower your voice.” He scanned nearby tables before picking up his glass and swirling the contents. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.”
“I’m not offended. I’m just…surprised. Why would you think that?”
“She leans on you. She adores you. And honestly, I don’t know many men and women who are as close as you two. I get the feeling she’ll want you there when she gives birth and?—”
“No way. I won’t do that.” I swiped a hand through my hair in exasperation. “Listen, Freya and I have never been lovers. Ever. She’s very lovely inside and out, but she’s not—I couldn’t think of her that way.”
He set his glass on the table and blew his cheeks out like a chipmunk. “Now I feel like an idiot. I’m sorry for making this weird.”
“It’s not weird.” I glowered. “Okay…it’s weird, but I forgive you.”
Dexter’s sheepish expression was oddly adorable. “Thanks. I’m sort of glad to be wrong about that.”
“That makes two of us. My sister would—” I could almosthear Annika’s laughter like a bell in the night. I brushed the vision aside and refocused on my handsome dinner companion. “Never mind.”
“No, tell me. What about your sister?”
“She would”—I moved pasta from one end of my plate to the other—“be amused.”
Dexter smiled. “What’s her name?”
