Chapter 18
DANI
Dexter seems so much more relaxed now that he’s had dinner. My mother fusses over everyone. She overfeeds, over hugs, over cares and she overdid it with Dexter.
Maybe “overdid” isn’t the right word. She wasn’t putting on an act. My mother loved Dexter the moment he got out of the car. I could see it in the way she hugged him and held him. Like she wanted this to be true. For him to be a man I chose, a man I’m deeply in love with and want to spend the rest of my life with.
But the reality is such a stark contrast.
We don’t know one another. We had a great time at the hotel, finding out about one another, but we aren’t in love. We aren’t even “in like”.
We’re simply making the best of a tricky situation, and we’ll be married for one year exactly.
To benefit both our families in some financial capacity.
When he stepped out of the car he looked unsure. I detected something alien in him. Uncertainty, even. But during the meal, he looked so relaxed, and the brothers were all talking, in a way they weren’t on the night I first met them.
If nothing else comes from our being together, I would want for Dexter to feel loved and needed, to feel like part of a family, and my mother is the best person to make someone feel that way.
But, Dios, he looked so good. Too good, even coming straight off a long ten-hour flight, this man stole my breath away. Crisp white shirt, sleeves pushed up just enough to show his forearms, tailored pants, that slightly messy hair that looks like it’s been through his hands a few too many times. He shouldn’t have this effect on me, because this isn’t real, but he does, and I don’t know what to do with it.
He’s a man who doesn’t want to get involved, and it would be so wrong to get involved. I must focus on my father’s health and business, and let those be my driving force.
But Dexter makes me sit up and take notice.
During these past few weeks, I’ve found myself thinking of our conversation, lingering over our kiss, feeling something deeply buried inside me light up like a fire.
It’s something I’ll work on and try to stop. Not fan the flames of desire I mostly feel when I think of him.
We have a year. And the most important thing is that AO Eletronica benefits.
Not me.
My heart sinks when I watch my parents. This is so real to them. I want to shake them and remind them that this is an alliance and nothing more, but I’m fearful now that they’re buying into this story.
One look at Dexter and they’re acting as if this fairytale could turn into a happily ever after.
When he gets up to use the washroom, I consider going after him, to try to get a moment alone with him, to see how he is, but I don’t want so many pairs of eyes on me, so I leave it. Then when I notice that my father is missing, I get nervous. I have a feeling he wants to talk to Dexter alone, but my father doesn’t know Dexter, and I don’t want my father giving him any “advice”.
I find him outside, exactly where I thought he’d be, and thankfully, he’s alone. I step outside, my sandals silent against the stone. “There you are,” I say, light and careful, because I can’t gauge his mood. “I figured you might want an escape route after dessert number two.”
He turns at the sound of my voice. “You say that like you didn’t go for seconds with the chocolate truffles.”
“Brigadeiros.”
“That what they’re called? They’re insanely delicious.”
I grin. “I consider them to be a food group.”
He holds my gaze and something inside me lights up like a star. This feels so intimate, and real. But then my insides heat up when Dexter gives me a look, half wary, half something else. Something that feels like longing, or maybe regret.
I force myself to take a breath, remind myself that this is a performance, and we are merely actors reciting our lines. But when his mouth curves, and his eyes turn soft, I feel light and giddy again.
Is this how our year together will be? Full of ups and downs? Me not knowing if he’s being genuinely nice to me or mocking?
“Your parents are … something else.”
I cringe a little. “They can be intense. My father especially, though my mother isn’t far behind.” I put my hands to my face, thinking of how she was practically force feeding him. I move my hands away. “I’m sorry. I hope you didn’t find this too much.”
“No.” He cuts in. “Your parents are wonderful people. Truly wonderful. The best kind,” he says softly, looking out into the inky darkness. For a moment it seems like he’s talking to himself. I feel like I need him to just be. “You’re very lucky,” he tells me.
“Thank you.”
“I understand now, in a way I couldn’t before, why you’re doing this.”
A soft breeze blows, wafting the scent of jasmine and lemon leaves. I wrap my arms around myself, listening to the familiar hum of the cicadas in the trees.
“You were very good with them, Dexter. The last thing I wanted was for you to feel put upon.”
“I don’t feel put upon.” Then, quieter, “I just feel like this matters more than I expected it to.”
I look at him and see something vulnerable in his expression. Maybe uncertainty about tomorrow and the consequences of our marriage, or maybe, it’s the quiet panic of someone who isn’t used to being cared for.
I feel like he’s still trying to make sense of it all. Not just our alliance, but my parents, and this evening. My family life.
“You have a lovely home,” he says.
“Thank you. There are a lot of memories here.”
“It seems lived in, homey. Cozy, but with old style elegance.”
“It is all of those things, and I will miss it dearly.” I feel so incredibly sad at the thought of leaving.
“It’s only for a year,” he tries to reassure me. “Then you’ll be back here and it’s like none of this will have happened … us, the wedding … the fakeness of it all.”
“I can’t believe the day is almost upon us,” I say, feeling subdued at his words. I miss the man I had drinks with at The Bluebell.
“Are you ready for this?”
“Getting married to you?” I get shivers just hearing the words out loud.
He nods.
“I feel like I’m about to take a jump off a cliff and there’s nothing but darkness beneath me. I don’t know if there’s water, or stone, or just an abyss.”
“Feels like that, doesn’t it? But this will all be in your past one day. You’ll forget about it. I know this is a big deal for you.”
“Isn’t it for you?” I ask.
He opens his mouth to say something. But stops himself.
I gulp, thinking about his friends-with-benefits arrangement. What if he’s having doubts and can’t go through a year without having his needs meet? The look he gives me lances my heart. “You have noble reasons for doing this. I don’t. I’m not a noble man, Daniela.” I flinch inwardly. “I’m not a monster, and I won’t do anything to hurt you, but this … this is an alliance, and not a day or a moment goes by that I don’t remember that.”
Asshole.
“I’m sorry. I don’t mean to sound so cold,” he says, looking sad, even confused.
“I understand. You didn’t want any of this.”
“I didn’t, but now it doesn’t seem so bad.”
“You have me to blame for your predicament. Had I not picked you … you wouldn’t be here.”
“It isn’t a predicament, but you’re right. I guess I have you to blame for this.” He smiles, as if to soften his words. “My father could never have made me marry you, if I didn’t want to.”
What’s he trying to tell me? Or am I reading too much into his words? “We did get on well on our getting-to-know-you date,” I say.
“Surprisingly well.”
“I don’t want to be your enemy, Dexter. I want us to be friends.”
“We’re getting married tomorrow, sweetheart. We’re going to be more than friends.”
I don’t understand him. One minute he’s stating the cold hard truth of this marriage of convenience, then next he’s flirting with me.
“Don’t worry,” he adds quickly, “I won’t lay a finger on you.” Our gazes lock and I feel my cheeks blush. I don’t know what to say to him. “Unless you want me to,” he adds.
The scoundrel. He really does think I’m like most of the women he’s met. That I’ll crumple at the morsels of attention he’ll throw my way.
I rush to reassure him. “I won’t. Believe me.”
“You sure about that?”
I arch a brow, then look away, because Dexter, when his gaze burns through me, makes me feel like I’m at his mercy.
How can there be so much chemistry and sizzling attraction between us? So much heat and desire. And how can he be kind and also annoying so much of the time?
As they get ready to leave, I remember the little gift I bought for Brooke. Jett’s carrying her in his arms, and though she’s not asleep, she keeps yawning.
“I got you something,” I say, taking out a gift bag.
“Oh, you didn’t have to,” Cari says, taking the bag for Brooke.
“You … you didn’t have to,” Jett says.
“It’s only a little something.”
Cari opens the bag and lifts out a little family of wooden elephants. A mommy, a daddy and a baby elephant.
The little girl immediately fully comes to life, a big grin lighting up her face as she tries to hold the elephants, but Cari insists they leave them in the bag. “Thank you,” she says to me.
“You’re welcome.”
We all say goodnight. Then Dexter, putting on another show, maybe because we both feel like we’re being watched, hugs me tight. “That was so sweet of you, to give Brooke those gifts.”
He looks genuinely surprised. I smile at him.