Page 12 of Flirting With Fire
Because you suggested I live with Dex. Okay, not with Dex, but near him, and that was bad enough. I’d be dreaming about him every night.
“I could fix up the house for you now I’m back,” I suggested, hoping the deflection would work.
It did. She started to scold me again about having too much to do than worry about wielding a paint brush.
“I’ll be working shifts,” I pointed out. “I can do some touch-ups on the house. Call it a project to make up for all the Mother’s Days I missed.”
Like all of them. Somehow, I’d never gotten home for Mother’s Day, on shift as the single guy. I always sent flowers and a card, but it wasn’t the same as me being here.
Mom bumped a hip with mine. “Done. But only once you’ve moved in, and I pick the colors. I know you. You’ll choose gray for every room.”
“That’s not true,” I protested.
“What color is your room?”
“It’s blue.”
“It’s gray,” she snapped.
“Blue-gray,” I countered. “It’s a nice color.”
It was, and I still liked it. But maybe I could paint the room green now. Then I thought about Dex’s eyes. They’d look perfect as the color in my room. Yummy. I could make him stand nextto the paint cans so I could match the color. I grinned, imagining his sour reaction.
“I pick the color, and you can paint,” Mom insisted. “Maybe Dex could give you a hand.”
I was so glad I’d finished my glass of water.
Chapter Four
Dex
“Yup. I know, Rosie. Spotted him yesterday as he was arriving in town.”
The last thing I was about to do was divulge the details of my encounter with the obnoxious Meyer Jones to the town gossip. I was convinced she spent most of her waking hours on the precipice of the Butte, telescope in hand, lip-reading abilities sharpened, notepad and pencil at the ready. Of course, her employment as Police Chief Wally’s assistant probably had a lot to do with her insider knowledge.
Rosie sniffed as if the mere mention of Meyer was nauseating. If the man hadn’t blossomed into the epitome of pure masculine perfection, I would’ve agreed. But the last way my high school secret crush could be described was nauseating.
I’d already toed off my work boots before she called, so I ambled into the front room to drop onto the sofa. I couldn’t be certain of how long I’d be roped into speaking with her before I could politely ease my way free.
“Well,” she continued, “I say he has a lot of nerve skulking back into town after leaving his poor mama alone and defenseless all these years.”
A snort almost escaped my lips, but I clamped them down in time. “Uh, I’m not sure Lindy is what one would consider helpless…”
I had to be careful how I worded my thoughts. After all, the preacher’s wife didn’t put up with any nonsense. And as it turned out, anyone who didn’t share her opinion was definitely spouting off nonsense.
“But we must give him points for returning now, don’t you think? He’s certainly helping with the firehouse situation. I’m not sure what Chief Brannigan and the council would’ve done if he hadn’t agreed to come home.”
My gut clenched. Was it Meyer’s home? Or merely another brief stop in the way a bee flits from one flower to the next? I growled. What the hell did I care what he did? I’d already decided he wasn’t my problem. All his presence would do was remind me of my stupidity back when I was a naïve, love-sick fool. Beyond that? He wasn’t even a blip on my radar.
“Dex, honey. Are you all right? You sound like you’re in pain. Did that bull kick you again?”
The fact that she was referring to an incident on the ranch when I was sixteen—over ten years ago—reminded me of how gifted she was at latching on to a moment in time like a Chihuahua with a chew toy.
“I’m fine, Rosie. Been a long morning. One of the calves is having trouble, and we’re not sure she’s going to make it.”
“You poor thing,” she cooed. “I’ll leave you to it, then. Oh, gotta run. Chief Wally just stumbled in, and it looks like the seat of his pants is ripped. I’d better check on that. You have a good day, hon.”
I almost choked on my spit but managed to respond, “Well, you have a good day, too, Rosie.”
