Page 34 of The Girl He Loves

“Get out,” I say and point to the front of the house. I’m all talk. I know Josie means well, and I love her for it. Even if it is embarrassing.

My friends hug me goodbye as I see them out.

Afterward, Dax and I stand in my small foyer, the front door behind me, the entry to living room behind him. He wolfs down the remains of his ice cream, arching one brow as he spoons it into his mouth.

“Why are you here?” I ask.

He chews, swallows, then says, “Because this is where I want to be.”

“The way you rushed out of here on Saturday makes me think what you just said isn’t entirely true.” I cross my arms and lean against the door.

He leans against the wall and kicks one foot over the other. “Something unexpected came up, and I had to handle it.”

“Most people would say, ‘Something’s happened and I have to take care of it’.”

He looks into the bowl, frowns, then shows me it is empty. “Yeah, I could have said that, but I know you. You would have thought I had a secret girlfriend or something real nefarious.”

I squint at him, hoping to convey I think he's crazy. “Nefarious? Like you’re running drugs or something. Don’t be stupid.” I roll my eyes. “And you’re right. I do think you have a secret something-or-other that’s going to show up here and make a scene. Because saying nothing left me to consider all the possibilities.” I point to the living room. “I have a child in there who I will go down in flames to protect—”

He holds up a hand, a smile on his lips. “There’s no secret anything that’s gonna show up. I’d never put Tyler in any situation that could cause him physical or emotional harm. Never. Can I just say you’re so sexy when you get all momma bear?”

I clear my throat. “We were talking about your sudden departure and why you’re back again.”

With a jerk of his head, he gestures for us to go back to the kitchen which, oddly, is more private. Once there, he rinses his bowl and puts it in the dishwasher. A task most women would find sexy because a man cleaning up after himself is a catch.

Dax says, “Okay, don’t hate me, but I was thinking about our night in the van and I was thinking about how I did some things that weren’t my best. I could do better. I thought maybe we could go at it again, and I could show you my good stuff.”

“You’re saying I didn’t get the best that night?” I lean against the counter and cross my arms. This is gonna be fun.

He does the same. “I thought it was my best. But in hindsight, I think I might have been holding back. Afraid to overwhelm you. I think we should do it again so I can measure the two against each other.”

Briefly, I press my lips together to keep from smiling. “Are you saying you want to measure my performance, too?” He walked right into that one.

He straightens. “No, you were outstanding. Actually, better than outstanding. It’s me. I think I didn’t do my best.”

I make like I’m uncertain. “Problem is, we agreed to a one-night stand, and if we did it again, then… well… you know.”

“Except it’s a new week. A new line on the calendar. If we gave it another go, then we can call it this week’s one night.”

I pretend to consider his rebuttal. “So, theoretically, each week we could have a one-nighter.”

He nods. “Downside to that is it limits us to once a week.” He looks at me from under his brow.

Dang, he’s so sexy and cute, wrapped up in a fun-loving, easygoing package. He spent the evening with my friends and didn’t look pained once. He spends time with Tyler and appears to genuinely enjoy it.

And he finds me sexy. That alone is heady stuff. When my definition of self is worn out and haggard, it does something wonderful to my self-esteem to know a man I find attractive thinks my worn out and haggard is sexy.

“Okay,” I say. “I'd like to know, too, if you can raise the bar.”

His mouth goes slack. “Seriously, I thought for sure you’d say no and kick me out.”

I point a finger at his face. “Tyler can’t know.”

He shakes his head. “Of course not.”

“And it’s one night.”

He holds up one finger. “Got it. One.”

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