Page 66 of The Fall

“I was angry. I didn’t mean that.”

“Let me take you out tonight,” he asked, guarded. “At least let me have that.”

I nodded. “I’m off in two hours.”

“Great, I’ll meet you in the lobby?”

“Sure.”

I locked my office and, for the first time, allowed my mind to drift to Dean since he’d made my larger office seem like the size of a coat closet. He dominated any space he was in so easily. I met him in the lobby as promised, and after our greeting, we walked in silence to his car. I couldn’t read his mood, which was odd, and looked at him curiously. He smiled over at me as he started his car.

“What’s up with you?” I asked.

“I’m still thinking about my mom,” he answered, giving me a soft look. “Dallas, she left the house for the first time in two years today to sit in her garden. She sat there all day talking to Rita. I couldn’t…” He paused, full of emotion, and I reached over to grab his hand. “It would’ve taken me years to get that place back to what it was. At first, I was angry with you. And you’re right. I was using it as a kind of penance for not being there for her when she needed me, but the truth was staring me in the face all day. You were right about so many things.” He finished by taking my hand and kissing the back of it once, twice, then slowly putting it back in my lap.

My vagina scrambled to attention, but I stifled her excitement.

I felt the pull then, the need to lean over and press my lips to his. I cleared my throat as he broke eye contact and then put the car into gear.

“How’s Josh?” he asked. “Before you take my head off, I mean that sincerely. When I said you were right about a lot of things, I meant you handing my ass to me at your parent’s house, too. If he is the better man, and you’re truly happy, that’s all I want.”

“Wow, seems like someone ate all his vegetables,” I said, rolling down his window so I could breathe in something other than his sea and wood scent. He dressed up to take me out to dinner, looking gorgeous in a light sweater. Fall had made its presence known this last month, and I felt the cool air hit me.

“I’m just trying to be a respectable guy.” He took his gaze from the road and eyed me briefly. “You look beautiful,” he said as I crossed my legs in the seat. I had worn a turtleneck dress that hit mid-thigh and high boots. I saw a large amount of leg was exposed as I shifted in my seat, covering it up as he caught an eyeful.

“Thank you,” I said, rolling the window down further. I suddenly felt like I was suffocating.

“I can turn on the A/C if you want.” He chuckled, noticing me shift uneasily.

“Dean, where are we going?”

“We’re here,” he said, pulling into a parking garage and easing to a stop in one of the available spaces.

“Where is here?”

“Come on,” he said, getting out of his side, then coming to meet me at mine. I took his hand and felt the ever-present jolt between us. He noticed it as well, but for the first time, when my eyes flew to his, he ignored the connection purposefully. I smiled at the thought. He was really trying.

We walked around a corner, and I saw the brightly lit trees of the restaurant first. It was a cool night, the feeling of fall in the air.

“God, I love the smell of fall,” I noted as he walked through the front doors.

“Always seemed to be a good time for us, didn’t it?” he added as he gestured to the hostess for a table for two. We were led to a small candlelit table.

“Pretty romantic, Dr. Martin,” I said, raising my brows as he ordered a bottle of champagne.

“This is different. They serve the most impeccable food, and this is a celebration,” he said in defense. “Look, elbows on the table,” he said, wiggling his fingers in front of me so I could see them.

“I’m not afraid of what you’ll do to me tonight.”

“No? Not afraid I may corner you somewhere?” His lips turned up on one side with a sexy smirk as he sat back in his seat.

“I’m more afraid of what I’ll do to you,” I said, casually glancing away from my menu to gauge his reaction.

“Come again?” he said, leaning in.

I licked my lips as I took a sip of champagne, then asked the waitress for water as well—my mouth suddenly dry. “Let’s just order,” I said, changing the subject. He looked slightly confused as he appeared to concentrate on the menu.

We sat in silence until the waitress came back to take our order.

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