Page 20 of The Girl He Loves

Chapter 8

Saturday

Dax givesa one shoulder shrug and runs his hands through his hair. “We didn’t say that specifically.” He’s dressed in jeans, heavy boots for riding, a flannel shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and a T-shirt underneath. “Besides, you promised you’d text to tell me you were okay, and when you didn’t, I worried. How’s your hip?”

He looks good enough to eat. I harden my resolve.

“Fine, just an ugly bruise. Dax, we were together until two. I figured you'd assume I was okay. And what we said, specifically, was that last night was good. Real good, and we agreed to leave it at a one-night stand.”

He gives me a dazzling smile. “I didn’t think you were serious about all that.”

He’s picked up some skills since we parted ways. Like the charming player-like smile. He can try his newfound moves on me, but they won’t work.

I make myself swear not to give in. I stay on topic. “How did you find me, by the way?” I know how he found my house. But how did he find the boutique? I hadn’t given him the name or any other detail.

“I did an internet search. Then narrowed it down from there. On the Daily Mirror’s website is a picture of your friend Jayne, who was at the restaurant last night. I dug around the site and saw an email for you as well.” He snapped his fingers. “Took seven minutes.”

I’ll be honest. Sarcasm is my default. It's how I set limits. And now was the time to use it on Dax. “Wow, you have a mechanical engineering degree, only because I helped you with the English assignments, but that's neither here nor there. You played in the NFL and you’re a citizen sleuth. You. Are. The. Complete. Package.”

He turns to rest against the seat of his bike. “I’m getting the vibe that I’m not wanted here.” He gestures to my neighborhood. “Here being your beachfront house.”

I point up the road. “Four blocks that way is the beach. I can hear the waves crashing from here.” As if on a cue, a seagull squawks. Bless his scavenger heart.

“Loosely playing with the word ‘beachfront,’ though. Not that I care.”

I make like I’m raining money, swiping one hand over my palm repeatedly. “Not all of us made fat cash right after college.”

Dax puts his hands up in surrender. “Heather, I just came here because I wanted to say I really enjoyed last night. I’m in town for the next nine days for Bike Week, and I thought maybe we could see each other again. But it’s clear you don’t feel the same way.”

Okay, so I feel a tad guilty for being bitchy. “It’s just that you’re on vacation, and this is my life. It’s not like we’re both in Hawaii and can leave it all behind when we get on a plane to go home.”

“But we’re not strangers,” he says.

“We kinda are. We’ve had very different lives since college. I’m not Heather Lowell anymore. I’m Heather Michaels. I’m a single mom.”

He nods as he considers my words. Then looks at me from under his brow. “I’d like to get to know Heather Michaels.”

I shake my head. “For a week, and then you’ll leave and go back to your real life. We should leave it at a one-night stand.”

He puts one palm up. “How about a two-night stand?”

Against my better judgement, I laugh. “They don’t exist.”

“They should. So should three-night stands and four-night.”

“That’s called dating. Or a relationship.”

“And you have no room for that?”

I shake my head. “Not right now. And what about you? I heard on talk radio you’re being courted by a handful of NFL teams who want to add you to their coaching staff. Do you even know where you’ll land when this is over?” I point to his bike.

He sighs and shifts his weight. “Well, hell, Heather, I can see your point. I’ll be honest. This isn’t how I saw this morning going.”

I smile while telling myself I'm doing the right thing.

He picks up his helmet. “I guess I should get going. You all doing that restaurant thing tonight?”

I shake my head.

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