Page 62 of Only If You Dare

Chapter Twenty

Julian

The aerial view of Dubai was a beautiful sight to behold. But not more breathtaking than the woman sitting next to me. Just when I thought she might back out of our flight, she proved me wrong, adjusting in her seat, ready for takeoff. We were making progress. Desiree had loosened up, and now I wanted to shake her completely of the restraints she held on to. Her face lit up as we passed different iconic destinations. Palm Island, The Burj Al Arab, and Union Square were among many of the destinations we flew over.

We’d flown eight miles before landing on a helipad. We settled, and I shut the engine down and helped Desiree out of the aircraft. We walked across the rooftop to a BMW and within minutes were on the move again. I found it interesting that Desiree didn’t ask many questions about our journey’s end. I turned the dial and locked the position when I found a classical music station. I could feel Desiree’s beautiful eyes on me. I didn’t need to look at her directly to feel the magnetism that drifted from her like a lakes stream.

“Don’t do that,” I said.

“Excuse me?”

“Unless you want to get arrested for indecent exposure don’t look at me that way.”

Desiree seemed to freeze without considering my warning quick enough. I pulled the car to the side of the road and parked it, then turned to her. My hand reached out, gliding up her neck to grip the back of her head.

“Bella…” I said, the single word, cautionary. Desiree blinked and turned her gaze toward the front window.

I love you.

The thought sailed through me in a comfortable stride. My heart rate kicked and my hold on her tightened. Inquisitive eyes turned back to me, and I released her. Shit. I put the car back in drive and pulled onto the road. The remainder of our trip was silent as I mulled over emotions I’d never felt before. I pulled into an area that no longer contained luxury high-rises and paved streets. About a mile down the uneven road I made a right into the parking lot of a community kitchen.

“This is Forward Kitchen,” I said; offering Desiree an introduction of the place. “They cook the best food I’ve ever eaten in Dubai, but this isn’t a place you’d come to order, eat and pay. There are no prices on the menu. You pick what you like, they cook it for you, and you give a donation that will pay for the meal of the person that comes behind you.”

A small smile shadowed around Desiree’s lips.

“So when we eat, someone has already paid for our meal. It’s like a pay it forward eatery if you will.” I said.

“That’s an interesting concept,” Desiree decided.

“It’s meant to be a helping hand to someone who needs a home cooked meal.”

“What happens if that person can’t pay it forward?”

“It’s not the rule, just the suggestion, which is why it’s set up on a donation system.”

Desiree took her seatbelt off. “I’m ready whenever you are.”

We exited the vehicle and made our way inside. The doorbell chimed as we entered and smells of cooked foods assaulted us.

“I think my mouth just watered,” Desiree said.

“And to think,” I drew her into my arms, “I thought that only happened because of me.”

Desiree laughed. “Not this time, handsome, not this time.”

She gave a playful shove and walked away, my instinct reached out for her again, but I remembered we were in public and decided against it. Still, my fingers lightly touched her elbow, and she looked back at me. I slid my hands into my pockets and stepped in line behind her. I scanned the community kitchen needing to place my attention elsewhere, but I could still feel her gaze.

“Mr. Rose is that you!” Lacey, a young volunteer, jogged to me. “It is you! Welcome!”

I bent as Lacey threw her arms around my neck, and we hugged briefly.

“Lacey this is Desiree Stevens. Desiree, Lacey Bartholomew.”

“How are you Lacey,” Desiree held her hand out and Lacey accepted it gleefully.

“I’m well, how about yourself?”

“Same here,” Desiree said. “How long have you been a volunteer?”

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