Page 44 of My Grumpy Sweetheart
Shaking my head at his antics, I extended my hand. “What do you say about calling the axe throwing part of our date a day and transitioning to the eating part? My arms are starting to feel sore.”
They didn’t, but I’d seen the way Bailey had winced the last time he’d raised the axe. He was getting close to his limits.
Grabbing my hand, he pulled me towards the exit. “I know you’re lying about being exhausted, but I’m hungry so I’ll let it slide. By the way, after I’ve seen you throw a fucking axe and hit the bulls eye time and time again, I’m even more convinced the whole accountant thing is just a cover for your real job.”
I laughed, putting an arm around his shoulder and pulling him close.
“Of course you’re thinking that.”
CHAPTERFIFTEEN
BAILEY
Seeing Dakota fidget was weird. In the short time that I’d known him I’d seen him uncomfortable, angry, sorry, sad, happy… I’d gotten a glimpse of almost every emotion there was, and never once had he sat there and fidgeted in his seat.
Instead, I’d seen him brush his fingers through his beard or tug at his hair. But not being able to sit still for even a second? That was my routine — and quite frankly, I didn’t like seeing him like this. Especially since nothing was wrong.
I mean, we were sitting in a very rustic roadhouse-chic bar that was made out of a hundred percent wood — seriously: floor, walls, ceiling, furniture, it was all made out of the same kind of washed-out brown wood — and waiting for greasy burgers. It wasn’t a classy date in some kind of fancy restaurant, but we’d been having fun and that was far more important. In my opinion, the date had been going well right up until the moment we’d sat down in the small booth in the back corner of the bar.
Now he was jittering so badly I was almost surprised the table wasn’t vibrating.
“What’s up, Dakota?” I finally asked after the server who’d brought us our drinks had left. “Because you’re starting to freak me out. Like, I’m glad you weren’t that nervous when we were throwing axes; otherwise, my axe in the ceiling would’ve probably been the least of our problems, but yeah… where’s my stoic grump?”
At least he stopped fidgeting. Not that he looked any less tense — quite the contrary, the blood draining from his face made him look like he’d pass out any moment.
“Dakota?” I repeated, carefully reaching out and placing my hand on his forearm. The skin beneath my fingers was colder than I’d expected and did nothing to reassure me that he was fine.
Maybe he’d caught a stomach bug or the flu or something?
“I’m fine,” he finally said, voice so hoarse his words sounded like a whisper. “But you said you didn’t want gifts, you wanted honesty and reliability, so I’m… I guess I’m trying to gather the courage to be honest with you and maybe explain myself a little.”
My heart constricted in my chest. “Oh, Dakota, you don’t need to…”
“But I do,” he insisted, giving me a shaky smile. “You were right about the honesty part. I haven’t been honest with you about quite a few things, and I hope it won’t change anything, but if it does, I understand.”
Blinking, I held onto him a little tighter, just in case he wanted to pull back. Because I wouldn’t let him. I’d licked him, so he was mine.
So, I did what I did best and sent him a reassuring smile and waited until he was ready to go on with whatever he felt like he needed to tell me.
“Do you remember when I asked you about my profile on that dating site?” he finally asked, his eyes searching mine. “You wondered if I was drunk when I’d entered the auction because I didn’t remember anything I’d put on there?”
I nodded slowly, raising my brows at him.
“The truth is: it wasn’t me who was drunk. My friends were. And I didn’t put myself up for auction, my friends did. I’d never ever voluntarily enter an event like that — and my friends know that. Which is why they only told me about our date three weeks ago. Up until then, they’d let me believe we’d go camping for a weekend. Then they tried to guilt-trip and blackmail me with the money going to charity.” He swallowed, his jaw tensing. “This is definitely not a conversation for a second date, but I know one thing or the other about being a queer, homeless teen, and my friends are well aware of that fact and used it against me.”
Squeezing his arm, I inched a little closer to him. My heart went out for him and anger ignited in my gut. That was a really shitty thing his friends had done. To Dakota, and ultimately to me, too.
“So you’re trying to tell me that in reality, you aren’t a grumpy grizzly but a cuddly teddy bear?” I asked, winking at him to ease a little bit of his tension.
And it worked. Dakota barked out a laugh but shook his head.
“Sorry to get your hopes up. I’m definitely still a grumpy bastard, but I’m usually not this angry. Or I’m trying not to be. I had a bit of an anger issue back when I worked as CFO, but I quit that job, did a lot of therapy to work through stuff, and… that’s also not second date material and not the point. The point is: before meeting you that Friday, I spent a whole week hating your guts. I didn’t know you, but in my mind, you were this sleazy guy who got a perverse kick out of buying people like cattle. And when I met you, I tried holding onto that hate. I’m a pretty stubborn guy, you know? The last thing I wanted to do was to have to admit that you weren’t that bad. Because in my mind, that would’ve implied that what my friends did wasn’t that bad.”
“But it was,” I whispered, close enough to him now that I could rest my head against his biceps. “I’m sorry, I know they’re your friends, but we already established I’m a pretty blunt guy, and… forcing a date on you with emotional blackmail? It makes me want to… I don’t know. I’m not a violent person, so I don’t want to punch them, but… oh yes! It makes me want toglitter bombthem.” Dakota bellowed out a laugh, put his arm around my shoulder, and pulled me flush against his side. His body heat seeped into me, and I took a deep breath, inhaling his woodsy scent and the barest hint of sweat.
“Please do that… I’d love to see their reaction.”
I laughed. “I just might. But seriously, you liking me isn’t an absolution for their actions, and you have every right to be pissed at them.”
