Page 27 of Dodge

She took his silence for consent and moved to wrap her arms around his waist, pressing close. Genuine tears leaked from her eyes as she snuggled into him. “Thank you for putting up with me. Out of all the places I been, there’s only one I think about as home. That’s here. You may not believe it, but I’m real sorry for all the messed-up shit I handed you. Real sorry. I ain’t gonna ask you to do nothing more, but can I just sleep in the bed with you? Just sleep? Only place I ever feel safe is right here in your arms.”

Dodge’s arms came up automatically to her back. Despite regular meals, she was still way underweight, as indicated by her ribs beneath his fingers.

He closed his eyes as his resolve crumbled, and he regretted the words even as he said them. “Just for tonight.”

CHAPTER14

“Hold right therewhile I screw it in.”

I burst into laughter, and Dodge gave me an exasperated look. “That’s the third time tonight you’ve done that.”

“Done what?” I asked in my most innocent-sounding voice.

“Made a sex thing out of something I said.” He set the drill on the long screw and, with several quick bursts, drove it into place. He pulled at the booth wall to test its sturdiness. “That should keep it up.”

His side-eye at me had me laughing again. “Now you’re doing it deliberately,” I accused.

The grin that came across his face told me all I needed to know.

This was the third night in a row this week that Dodge had come over after his regular workday to help me in my restaurant. I wouldn’t be very far along without his help or his tools. The flimsy Phillips screwdriver I’d bought at Dollar General gave up the ghost the first time I tried to use it. Stripped right out, leaving me cussing like a sailor. Thankfully Dodge showed up with a big box of power tools at just the right time.

We spent some time measuring and planning where everything would go. This was difficult, as we had to keep moving shit around the restaurant to check the placement. Once we finally got stuff where it would fit, we started the installation. I had no clue it would take so long to set up one booth. I did as much as I could during the day, which amounted to getting the kitchen in order, washing and putting away dishes, setting up vendor accounts, and getting all the city paperwork completed for a business license and LLC.

It was overwhelming sometimes, but bit by bit, it was coming together.

Dodge also gave me an excuse to cook since I insisted on feeding him when he came over. I picked up fresh ingredients from the local markets and did some experimenting with new and old recipes. We would eat in the booth we’d just finished as we chatted about anything and everything.

“I like cats fine, but I’d rather have dogs.”

“I always wanted a parrot. I thought it would be cool to walk around with one sitting on my shoulder.”

“Classic action movies, hands down.”

“So, isDie Hardan action or a Christmas movie?”

“Coke or Pepsi?”

“Neither. Give me a Sprite.”

Night after night, whatever subject hit our brains, we talked about it. Sometimes he’d call me to say he was working late and couldn’t come by. We’d still talk on the Bluetooth buds in our ears as we worked in separate places. Our conversations got deeper and deeper.

“Yeah, I vote, but not for any political party. I’d rather pick the person who I think can do the job right. I’m a lifelong independent.”

“I didn’t grow up in a church, but I believe in a higher power.”

“Smoked a little weed a few times, but it’s not on my ‘have to have’ list.”

“I’m not close to my parents.”

“Me neither.”

Tonight I fixed a somewhat expensive bouillabaisse that turned into a disaster. I’d never done this French fish stew before and definitely needed to talk with another chef about it. I used too much saffron, an ingredient I wasn’t familiar with, and the dish turned an unappealing bright orange. One bite had me spitting it out. The spices were all wrong and the flavor way too strong even for my palate. “I have some leftover chicken parmesan and pasta, but I don’t think there’s enough for two.”

“How ’bout a pizza?” Dodge mouthed around a lump of the stew.

“You’re on.”

The food arrived along with a little nighttime rain. This wasn’t a torrential downpour, but it was significant enough that Dodge stuck around longer than he’d expected to. He ran out long enough to cover his bike with a tarp and came back in soaked to the skin. His hair was plastered to his skull, and he shook it at me like a wet dog.

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