Page 405 of Dark Love

BEER!

Dahlia doesn’t drink, but there’s beer in here. Two bottles are missing from the six-pack. I snatch a bottle up. This is a craft beer. A nice one at that.

Someone has exceptional taste in beer.

And it’s not her.

Maybe she doesn’t drink liquor but enjoys a beer once in a while.

Drinking beer while watching a baseball game is almost a requirement. For guys.

Not for a woman who has a floral and lace coverlet on her bed.

Did she just recently break up with someone?

Is she seeing someone else? My empty hand balls up into a fist. We aren’t anything yet. She doesn’t know I’ve claimed her, but that doesn’t matter. If she’s seeing someone, that guy is about to disappear from her life one way or the other.

Payne would say I’m wrong for hoping he chooses the other way… the permanent choice.

Is she secretly married?

There hasn’t been a single other sign of a man living here. I snatch a beer out and pour a glass of milk, then rush over to the coat closet by the door.

He’d have to have a coat there.

Nothing… There’s nothing but a dozen different women’s coats and jackets.

Time’s up. I run up the stairs.

Why does Dahlia have beer in her refrigerator?

Who’s been drinking that beer?

Don’t ask.

Don’t ask.

Play this cool. “What are you doing out of bed?” That was the exact opposite of cool.

She pokes her head above the chest lid. “Um. I’m… Um.” Dahlia closes the lid and holds a blanket in front of her like a shield. “Getting you a blanket.”

“Dahl, it’s hot in your house. I don’t need a blanket.”

“I keep the temperature at a chilly 66.”

“Still don’t need a blanket, Dahl.”

“But you don’t have jammies on. I. um… I… um… didn’t mean it like that. It’s just that I... you wear those clothes outside… and it’s my um… bed. And in bed, people wear jammies.”

“I can grab a chair or sit on the floor.”

“NO!” She practically jumps out of her skin. “There’s no need. I’ll just put this on the bed. The way we can cu—” Dahlia slaps a hand across her mouth, dropping the blanket to the floor.

Do not stare at her. It doesn’t matter how enticing those little shorts are that she’s pretending are pajamas.

“What I meant is, you’ll be more comfortable on the bed. I’ll just spread this out. Then we can relax.”

“That’s doubtful.” The beer will torment me until I get some answers.

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