19. Chapter 19
Chapter 19
Chloe
Dinner wasn’t a date, but if it were? Dawson aced the test. He’s easy to be around. He listens when I speak and knows how to make me laugh. Throughout our meal, we talked about growing up in Utah, our favorite hangouts when we were kids, and the best hamburger joints. We didn’t agree on who serves the best cheeseburger, so a taste-off was scheduled for another day.
“Are you the oldest in your family?” I ask Dawson as he turns onto the freeway toward my house.
“I’m the youngest, actually. Emma is eighteen months older than me, and Lucy is four years older.”
“Did you ever wish you had a brother?”
He laughs. “Constantly. I never liked being their doll, and they never wanted to wrestle with me.”
“Oh, you poor baby,” I mock.
“Did you ever wish you had a sister?”
My head wobbles back and forth. “Sometimes, yeah.” I really wanted my mom back more than another sibling. “ But Carter and I got really close and, I don’t know, maybe because I knew having a sister wasn’t an option, I tried to appreciate what I had.” That’s not to say Carter and I didn’t have our disagreements or annoyances with each other. We fought just like any other set of siblings. But our circumstances were unique. When the only other person you can rely on is your brother, you form a tighter bond. Add our twin connection and we’re as tight as a metal seam.
“Do you want Finn to have a sibling someday?” Heat burns my cheeks like I just spent an hour doing cardio. Think before you speak, Chloe.
Dawson flashes me a smile. “Are you offering to help him out?”
“What? NO!” My head shakes as fast as a dog after a bath. “That’s NOT what I was suggesting at all .” Of course, an image of exactly what it takes to make a baby pops into my head and, of course, the person I picture doing it with is Dawson. I don’t hate it…
“That’s not what I heard…”
“Dawson Reed, what kind of woman do you think I am?”
He smirks. “Are you sure you want me to answer that?”
“Your response says plenty.”
He shakes his head. “Au contraire, madame.”
“Fine.” I jut my chin out. “Tell me what you think of me.”
His intense gaze starts at the top of my head, darts back to the road, then scans the rest of my body. An appreciative smile grows bigger and bigger on his lips the longer he looks at me. There’s desire behind his stare .
Heat warms my cheeks. My face is probably as red as the leaves on the trees. Where is a cold compress when you need one?
“For the sake of our working relationship, I’ll pass.”
What!? “You can’t do that”—I circle a finger in his face—“then cop out. Come on, buddy, spit it out.”
He shakes his head, miming zipping his lips.
I shove his shoulder. “You’re the worst.”
Dawson’s brows rise, wrinkles forming across his forehead. “I’m worse than ski guy? Dang, 007. That’s harsh.”
Secretly, I love when he calls me 007. The way he says it fills my stomach with butterflies. “At least ski guy admitted he liked me, even if his actions were juvenile.”
“I like spending time with you.”
I feel the same way, but it isn’t quite the answer I’m hoping for. Why I’m pushing him to say he likes me is silly. Maybe I’m super desperate for a confidence boost after all the embarrassing things I’ve done around him. “Spending time with me and liking me are not the same.”
He shakes his head, smiling. “I’m not one hundred percent certain what you want me to say here. You try to cuddle with me while I’m sleeping, steal all my extra time, then coerce me into saying I like you? I feel like you’re playing me.”
His tone is teasing, and yet my stomach turns sour. “That’s not what I’m trying to do. I’m sorry. Can we forget I said anything?”
“Yeah.”
“For the record, I was trying to leave, not cuddle with you. Your blanket tripped me up.”
“I appreciate your commitment to stick with your story. ”
I let out an incredulous laugh. “I don’t know what else to say to make you believe me.”
He grins. “You don’t need to say anything, 007.”
“Fine. I won’t.”