Page 39 of Exposed to You

Dallon raised an eyebrow, and I wondered if he’d had one.

I shrugged. “I figured it’d get wrecked anyway. I always had paint under my nails.”

“Just let me know, and I’ll make the call.”

“I’d prefer to see the city.” I twirled and fell back on the bed, covering my face. “I can’t believe I’m in Savannah!”

“Believe it, baby,” Dallon winked as he hung his clothes in the closet.

I propped myself up on my elbow. “Have you been here before?”

“A few times, yes. I thought we could do all the touristy stuff, like the Historic Carriage Tour and tour the Mercer House.”

“You won’t be bored?”

“Not with you.”

I walked over to him, stood on tip-toes to press my lips to his. “I’m excited.”

“And I’m looking forward to catching every moment of your excitement.” He grinned as he pulled something out of the carry-on.

“You brought your camera.” Instinctively, I took a step back.

His eyes twinkled. “I did.”

“For the touristy things,” I clarified.

“For whatever I want. It’s my day.” He stepped forward as I stepped back, prowling after me like a predator, camera at the ready.

“Eek!” I made a dash for the study and he followed, snapping pictures.

There was a bowl of fruit on the table and I picked up an apple, threw it at him. He caught it with his left hand and bit into it, still snapping photos with his right. “Thanks.”

As he moved around the table, I moved too, until we had switched sides and I could run for the bathroom. Inside, I turned on the tub, yanked out the hose and swiveled to face him. The hose ended in a cylindrical spray head with 4 columns of tiny nozzles.

“Take another picture and I’ll spray you!”

“Then you’ll be in trouble.”

I swallowed. “It’ll be worth it.”

He cocked his head to the side. “Come now. I don’t think you really want to ruin my camera that much. How will we save the great memories of our trip?”

I sprayed his leg.

“Oh, Amy.” He shook his head disapprovingly as he approached, his eyes darkening. “Now you’re going to be sorry.”

Dallon lunged at me and I squealed, releasing the hose. The spray head hit the ground and water shot everywhere. Calmly, he marched through the spray, turned off the faucet before picking up the spray head.

“I should fuck you with this,” he said, examining it thoughtfully.

I gasped, and he smirked.

“No?” Chuckling, he put it back in its holder, and I breathed a sigh of relief that didn’t last long. He strode toward me and I backed up, my pace matching his, until I was pressed against the vanity.

Then, as if emerging from a trance, he halted directly in front of me, trailed delicate fingers along my jaw.

“But I won’t. You’re lucky,” he murmured, his blue eyes on my lips, which parted as I began to breathe again. “This isn’t about that.”

I blinked, surprised.

“Besides, the sun will only be up for a few more hours, and I don’t want you to miss it.”

With a wink, he turned and walked out of the bathroom.

***

“I actually wanted to attend SCAD, but I knew that my parents would turn the idea down,” I told Dallon as we walked hand-in-hand through the historic district. “Not that I’m complaining about NYU. I love living in New York.”

“This city has such old world charm.” Dallon paused to snap a picture of a wrought-iron gate encircling a garden of flowers, a stone fountain at its center. A brick staircase led up to the red door of the townhouse.

“Why don’t you display any of your photographs?”

He took my hand again and continued walking. “I decorated before I got into photography. I haven’t changed anything around.”

“We should put some up.” I bit my lip and heated, realizing how presumptuous that sounded. “I’m sorry. I mean, it would be nice to see your work.”

He grinned and squeezed my hand. “Perhaps we will.”

Two college-aged girls passed us, both of their heads turning to watch Dallon. He continued to look straight forward, but there was a trace of a smile on his lips. Jealousy rose unbidden within me even though I knew he must be used to it.

“It has old world charm but it’s funky too,” I said, eyeing the Vespa’s and cruiser bicycles parked outside of shopSCAD, a store that sold designs, jewelry and art by SCAD students.

Next we moved on to Forsyth Park, where we walked through a canopy of oak trees draped in Spanish Moss. Dallon insisted that I stand in front of the marble fountain for a picture. To my surprise, he passed an elderly couple his camera, and then jogged into the photo with me. His arm tightened around my waist and I couldn’t help it—I grinned like a schoolgirl.

Dallon was brilliant and gorgeous, and he wanted me. Not only that, but he was willing to give me his most valuable possession: his time.

“Let’s go for dinner by the river,” he said, lifting my hand to his lips to kiss it before helping me navigate the steep staircase and then the cobblestone street. The sun was beginning to set and a Riverboat was docked along the walkway’s edge.

“Can I borrow your camera please?” I asked.

I snapped a picture of the boat with the Savannah Bridge behind it. When I handed the camera back to Dallon, he made a low whistle.

“Why Miss Clair, you do have a good eye.”

***

Dallon adored Italian as much as Seafood. It was another piece of the Dallon puzzle.

At dinner he ordered us the Steamed Mussels in a Korean Chile Broth as an appetizer, himself the Seafood Linguini, and me the Mahi Mahi.

I frowned. “I wanted the Seafood Linguini too.”

“We’ll share. I want you to try it.”

I bit my tongue and picked up my $25 glass of wine. Dallon hadn’t batted an eye at the menu. What would it be like to have that kind of money, I wondered.

When the Mahi Mahi came, I had to admit that it was pretty good.

“I’m glad you like it. I prefer to eat fish.” He exhaled a deep, shuddering breath. “I watched a documentary on slaughterhouses, and the cruelty rocked me.”

“I’ve heard.” I looke

d down at my food, feeling guilty for not taking more of an interest in what was going on in the world. “Is that part of the reason you started your animal shelter?”

“Partly, yes. I also witnessed animal cruelty as a child, and I resolved to do something about it. I created the shelter before I received the inheritance, but most of the money was donated to it afterward. Since then, I’ve been considering expanding the foundation or else starting a new one. I have a few ideas in mind. I’d like to tell you about them sometime.”

I could tell from his last sentence that he didn’t want to get into it right now, so I reached across the table and took a bite of his linguini.

“This is delicious as well!”

He grinned. “Glad you’re enjoying yourself, Miss Clair.”

As we walked back to the hotel hand-in-hand along River Street, Dallon asked, “Where would you go if you could anywhere in the world?”

“Wow, that’s a tough question.” I thought for a moment, navigating the cobblestones carefully. “I’ve never thought about that before.”

“Why not?”

“I’ve never been good at those games. I feel like if I let myself dream then I might get disappointed.”

“Dreams keep us going,” he said, glancing up at me disapprovingly.

“I have a dream about being a successful artist,” I said defensively. “I just don’t like to think about things that will never happen. You know how people talk about what they would do if they won the lottery? I never think about it.”

“Because you don’t think you’ll win.”

“Yes. It makes me uncomfortable.”

We entered the hotel and stepped into the elevator. “Well where would you go?” I asked him.

He smiled sadly. “I don’t tend to think about traveling because I don’t really have the time.”

“And you’re lecturing me?”

He laughed. “Okay, I’d go to Africa. On Safari.”

I sighed. “That would be nice.”

We were silent as the elevator made its ascent to the top of the building. With a ding, the doors opened to our floor.

“Time’s up,” Dallon winked. “Where would you go?”

“I just said Safari would be nice.”

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