Page 50 of Sweet Something


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“Annika.”

“Does she know Freya?” he asked.

I clenched my jaw against unwanted emotion and nodded. “Very well. Best of friends.”

“Don’t tell her. And definitely don’t say anything to Freya. I’m embarrassed, but…also relieved.”

“Why?”

Dexter sipped his wine, his eyes locked on mine. “BecauseIlike you. And I think you like me.”

I opened my mouth and closed it, twice. Thoughts of Annika and Freya disappeared in a flash. Dexter had my undivided attention.

“I do.”

Our waiter swooped in to remove our plates and tempt us with tiramisu and coffee. The interruption should have thrown us off-balance, but the moment we were alone, Dexter sat forward.

“So let’s quit pretending we’re not going to end up naked again,” he blurted.

“Ahh. What are you proposing?”

“That we continue where we left off at your house…post-pancakes.” He pointed at his glass. “If you’d rather not, it’s okay. We can blame this on the wine.”

I didn’t think he was too far gone. In fact, I was pretty sure Dexter knew exactly what he wanted.

Me.

“It’s a long ride home,” I commented idly.

“True.” He slid his ankle along my calf under the table. “I bet there are plenty of hotels in the area.”

I bugged my eyes out. “Hotel? You want to spend two or three hundred dollars for a hotel room…for sex?”

Honestly, I would have spent twice that amount in a heartbeat, but feigning outrage at the very notion was a necessary reset. The pendulum swing of conversation from Anni to sex was jarring…even after all these years.

Dexter’s eyes lit with humor as he threw his head back and laughed. Even in our dimly lit corner of the restaurant, I could tell his cheeks were flushed from good wine, good food, and celebration. I wanted to share his joy, not taint it with past regrets.

If we’d been at his house or mine, I would have lunged for him, swiping dishes and silverware off the table in a manic quest to get close as quickly as possible. But we had a bill to pay, and the drive ahead would put the ghosts to sleep.

I hoped.

CHAPTER 16

DEXTER

The return trip to Wood Hollow was traffic-free and uneventful. It should have been awkward as fuck to drive for two hours with the man I’d basically propositioned with a good time, but it was a relief to know we were on the same page. This was happening.

Viggo was quiet at first—lost in thought, and that was okay. I was on cloud nine, slightly buzzed and dreaming about the future.

I spotted a deer on the side of the road, which sparked a conversation about deer running onto the highway and the time he’d had to veer to avoid hitting one and had ended up in a ditch. There’d been a three-hour wait and a tow truck involved, and the driver hadn’t been able to figure out how to attach his vehicle, so Viggo’d had to do it. He was funny in a self-deprecating, faux-grumpy way I found ridiculously charming.

Time slipped away and before I knew it, we’d reached the exit for the Four Forest area. I thought about putting my ball cap on in case anyone spotted us together, but it was dark and drizzly, and as Viggo pulled into my driveway and killed the engine, I had other things on my mind. All of them X-rated.

“Are you inviting me in?” he asked.

I fisted the front of his shirt in response and crashed our mouths together. We made out till the windows fogged and oxygen became an issue.

“C’mon.” I hopped out, and somehow, Viggo was at my side, snaking an arm around my waist and pushing me against the SUV.