Page 41 of Sweet Sinners
I recover quickly, catching the flicker of Dean’s gaze as it drops, just briefly, to my ring finger. I lift a brow, half amused, half defensive. “Relax. I’m not secretly married. My stepbrother lives with me, plus staff. Trust me, the house is rarely empty. If anything, it’s a challenge just to find five minutes of solitude.”
Dean’s smile falters, replaced by something harder, more guarded. His jaw ticks slightly, and when he speaks, his voice holds an edge of careful judgment. “Yeah, I heard about that. House arrest instead of prison, right? I mean, everyone in this town’s been talking. Fingerprints, blood, are you really comfortable alone with him?”
My shoulders tighten at his tone. Old instincts flare up, a conditioned agreement on the tip of my tongue, but something inside me pushes back, hard and immediate.
I lower my ice cream cone, meeting Dean’s steady gaze head-on. “He didn’t do it, Dean.”
Dean exhales a humorless laugh, shaking his head. “Come on, Cali. We both know how the justice system works. Just because a jury bought his story—”
“He didn’t do it.” My voice comes out sharper, colder, startling even me. “Trust me, no one wanted to believe he was guilty more than I did. But after hearing him talk about it, after seeing how haunted he is…” I trail off, my throat tight, frustration knotting my chest. “That kind of pain? You can’t fake it.”
Dean watches me quietly, his eyes thoughtful, weighing me with caution. After a long, loaded silence, he finally nods. “Okay. If you say he’s innocent, that’s good enough for me.”
I blink in surprise. “Just like that?”
“Just like that.” He leans in slightly, voice softer now but still firm. “Cali, your dad was killed too. If anyone has a right to be skeptical, it’s you. But you’re not a fool. If you believe him, then maybe I need to reconsider my assumptions. Your judgment matters more to me than gossip.”
My chest loosens slightly, tension unwinding with each careful word. I exhale slowly, bringing my ice cream cone to my lips again and smiling faintly. “Well, at least someone trusts my judgment.”
Dean chuckles, his posture relaxing as he settles back into the bench. “Always.”
He clears his throat softly, changing gears. “Any plans for the rest of the day?”
I arch a brow, studying him carefully. “Like, work-related plans?”
His smile deepens, something warmer and more genuine shining through. “Like I’m trying to ask you out, Cali.” His voice drops slightly, edged with playful confidence but still cautious enough to show he’s serious. “No work talk. No business agendas. Just you. Because I can’t seem to shake you from my mind, even when I know I probably should.”
My heart skips a beat, panic and uncertainty tangling in my chest. “We work together,” I say quickly, grasping at the easiest excuse. “I mean, aren’t there rules against that kind of thing?”
He tilts his head, expression unwavering. “Is that really what’s holding you back?”
I blurt out the next obstacle, fumbling for anything to keep distance. “Anna likes you. You know that.”
Dean’s jaw tenses slightly, but his gaze remains steady. “And I don’t feel the same about Anna. I’m not a toy to be handed off.” There’s no anger, just quiet honesty. He leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees, the movement drawing my attention to the muscles flexing beneath his shirt. “I think I get a say in who interests me.”
I stare at my melting ice cream, searching for answers I don’t have. Dean’s good, steady, charming, the kind of guy who’d offer quiet stability when everything else feels chaotic. He’s been at my back from day one, supporting me in ways I hadn’t even realized I needed. But dating a board member, especially now, feels impossible. And there’s Anna to think about.
Maybe in another life.
Taking a slow breath, I choose honesty. “This is the first day in forever I’ve managed to escape the office and breathe. Most nights, I’m chained to that desk past seven. Dean, I’m just not in a place for dating. Not you, not anyone. It’s nothing personal. I’m barely holdingmyself together. Under different circumstances, you’d be exactly what I’d want.”
He studies me, silence stretching for a beat too long before he nods slowly, disappointment flickering briefly behind his eyes. “I get it. Doesn’t mean I won’t ask again someday, though.” He rises from the bench with an easy confidence, a teasing half-smile pulling at his lips. “Just know, it takes a hell of a lot for me to get a crush, Cali.”
He winks, effortless, playful, but loaded with a promise I’m not ready for and then he walks away.
I exhale slowly, watching his figure disappear into the crowded street, swallowed up by a city that feels too big and too small all at once. My stomach tightens with confusion, frustration winding deep inside me.
Because the first thing I thought of the moment Dean asked me out wasConnor.
Connor, who has nothing to do with this. Connor, who’s probably in my greenhouse right now, brooding over glass or a recipe, acting like the goddamn world rests on his shoulders.
Dean is perfect, safe, charming, exactly the type of guy I should want. But he’s not the one cooking dinner when I’m drowning, showing me how to land a punch, or silently handing me water instead of wine because he sees the things I’m not ready to say.
Dean isn’t Connor.
And that’s exactly why I turned him down.
How fucked up is that?
