Page 57 of Our Long Days
Dex removes his hearing aid and places it on the counter. Before I can respond, I’m marched outside.
The smell of rain mixes with briny ocean and sweet pine. Fat raindrops splat on the ground, turning the usually gray pebbles a dark green.
Dex steps out from under the protection of the roof. He shucks off his shirt and hangs it over the porch railing, leaving him in a plain black tee. The material clings to his biceps, the rain sluicing down his tattoos and dripping from his fingertips as he waits.
I cup my hands over my mouth and shout, “There’s no music!”
He narrows his eyes, studying my lips. “Florence, get over here, woman, or so help me.”
Still barefoot, I tiptoe over, squealing as the cold spray hits my legs and arms. I stop a foot away from him, raise my arms, and tilt my head back.
It’s rejuvenating. The rain washes away any lingeringdoubts about, well, everything. Even if it’s temporary, the pressures usually weighing on me lift.
In a world where I’m too small and too big, too loud or too quiet, toome,it’s easy to fit in here, surrounded by nature and the freedom to be myself.
I look at Dex to find him staring at me. He blinks rapidly and steps closer, déjà vu swimming in his stormy grays. His rough hands slide behind my back. The distance between us is PG, which is comical, all things considered.
Unable to help myself, I lock my hands together behind his neck and close the gap. He’s motionless before he shifts his weight from left to right, swaying us gently. The cool air doesn’t bother me, not with the heat from his body warming me from the inside out.
My eyes drift closed. We slow dance to the beat of the rain, the tempo of the downpour matching my heart. I’m overwhelmed—by his kindness, fierce and genuine. He’s mature enough that my one-sided feelings aren’t an issue. This means nothing, just friends doing favors for friends.
His thumb massages small circles into my spine. “Your dad was the one who drove me to my first day at the lumberyard. Did you know that?”
“No,” I reply before nuzzling into him, hiding the sadness that comes with talking about my dad.
“My parents were visiting my grandmother in the hospital, and my truck wouldn’t start. Pat was busy, probably chasing Jo with hearts in his eyes. I called Ted, and five minutes later, he pulled up outside my house.” His chest vibrates under my ear with his deep voice. “He saw the scared shitless expression on my face and said something to me that’s always stuck. ‘It might be scary now, but that means you care about it.’”
A tear tracks down my cheek, hidden by the rain. Dad loved Dex.
“Sometimes…” I start before I raise my head. “Sometimes, I worry I care too much.”
He goes rigid at the sight of my wobbly lip.
“Sorry.” I wince. “Didn’t mean to make things weird.” I edge away, sensing the moment is over. Dex tightens his hold, pulling me flush to his front.
The tension in his muscles loosens, a smile cracking through his steely exterior. He’s so handsome, but it’s the beauty in his words that leave me speechless. “If more people cared the way you do, the world would be a much better place. We’re lucky to have you in our lives. You’re the light on a cloudy day, Florence.” He looks skyward. “It’s easy to forget storms exist when you’re around.”
He’s not trying to be cruel or lead me on, but it’s difficult to not fall for him even more as he presses a chaste kiss to my cheek, lingering forone, two, three.
“Brave the storm, Florence. I swear, it’s going to be okay once you come out the other side.”
We dance and dance. No music, no cares. Another item checked off.
Now, my worry isn’t whether I care too much.
It’s how I’m going to survive a summer of Dexter Moore.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
dexter
“Don’tyou dare fucking laugh, Johanna.” I scowl at the reflection of my friend snickering behind me.
I can’t move. If I do, the rental suit cutting off blood supply to all my extremities will split at the seams.
“I’m not laughing.” She laughs.
The flustered seamstress whips her head between me and the clipboard in her hands. “Oh, dear. I think my assistant got the measurements mixed up.”
