Chapter 17 #2
“Wondered if I’d find you here,” he said to Bill, who jumped up to greet the dog. “You weren’t home when I called in, but I found this guy roaming around on my run.”
His black basketball shorts finished just above his knees, revealing the curve of his toned quads. Drool. I already knew what was beneath the t-shirt from when my hands had done some very unsubtle exploring during our kiss.
I hated that I hadn’t noticed him coming early enough to run. But where would I go anyway? Upstairs? I'd have to see him eventually.
Breeze kept chopping, letting her gaze flick between me and Dax. Thankfully, he was still distracted by a bounding dog whose tail was getting threateningly close to the jar of sugar on the table.
“Cado! Silly boy” Bill exclaimed, giving the Labrador a pat. “Having my coffee and then we’ll go home,” he said to the dog, ignoring the rest of us.
I was coming around to the idea that I could be a dog person. Taco made an excellent case for it. But I couldn’t stop watching the threads of drool dripping from the Labrador’s mouth like slime threatening a health violation.
“Could he wait outside by any chance?” I said to Dax, who was crouched on the ground with an arm around Cado.
Dax's eyes shifted to me, and he stumbled in his stance, nearly falling on his ass. Guess he wasn't expecting to see me here.
“Sure,” he said, clearing his throat, the flush creeping up his neck.
Breeze threw a slice of ham at his face before he could stand, but he caught it with ease, and she looked deflated.
“For Cado,” she added, smiling.
After he’d been tied up outside—the dog that is, not Dax—though honestly I wouldn’t mind seeing Dax tied up outside too.
Or better still, in my bedroom, tied up and quiet.
I could think of a dozen things he could do with his mouth that didn’t involve me having to hear a word from him.
If only he hadn’t spouted all that perfect bullshit.
I shuddered at the memory.
Besides, he'd now been exposed to more Riley than he ever hoped to be.
“I was actually hoping to run into you when I heard you were back,” he said, scratching the back of his head as he met me at the counter.
I threw a death stare at Breeze, who pretended to be unaware as she sliced the cucumber in front of her.
“Oh?” I quickly folded the papers in my hand and stuffed them into my back pocket.
“I’m headed out of town for a bit. Got a pro-bono job for one of the kids.
” His brown eyes swished over mine quickly and were gone again as he rubbed at a spot on the counter with his thumb.
I’d give him a pro-bono-job. Okay, no, I wouldn’t, and I didn't want to anymore.
Except my body did. Gahh, the way he made me feel was infuriating.
“Oh,” I said again, surprised by the disappointment in my stomach.
I let my gaze run over him. He was hot, sure. Helpful too. He was always helping Breeze, helping those kids, giving his time. And he'd been through real shit and come out the other side again. Which was more than I could say.
There was a strength in him I admired. He’d met his monster—and tamed it.
But it didn’t change the fact that after the other night, something about him made me want to crawl out of my skin.
I reminded myself of the things I didn’t like.
He paid in perfect change. I couldn’t explain why that annoyed me, but it did.
He probably had a colour-coded fridge. And fake grass.
He also had zero awareness of others when he was in his own zone.
Who could like someone like that? Not to mention he'd been rude to me at least three times.
I ignored how many times I’d been rude to him and the fact I humiliated him the other night, and had been ignoring his calls since.
“I’m not sure why I’m telling you,” he said, and his eyebrows bent in the middle. “It’s not like… I guess it's for the house,” he mumbled his words. The redness at the base of his ears that I’d once found infuriating burned, and something in my chest swirled.
I nodded, agreeing it was because of the house, because what else could it be for? Dax loved helping people, and I was someone in town who had needed help.
“Cool. I guess it's the last time I see you before I leave. Again,” I replied.
Dax’s brown eyes met mine for a moment and threatened to undo me.
The clawing in my chest to move towards him wasn’t a feeling I was familiar with.
The lunge across the counter and devour him right there on the waxed floor that I was also feeling was.
But I had no explanation or experience with the loss that was weaving around my ribs, promising to suffocate me.
“You’re on your way soon, then?” he asked, his mouth twisting into a forced smile.
“Should be. Just one last thing to do before I go home.”
Not that I knew where that was. London wasn’t home. My dad’s wasn’t home. Glades Bay wasn’t home. And Rick didn’t feel like home in the same way anymore either.
Strangely, I’d felt more at home at Steamy Sips than I had anywhere in my entire life.
I was more surprised than anyone that I’d be sad to leave it and its crew of riffraff.
Other misfits and loners, people just getting by, all coming together at different times in this space as a strange sort of community.
It had become my place without me even realising it.
Dax nodded and rubbed the spot on the counter again. “Well, if I don’t see you again, it’s been nice knowing you.”
Something in my stomach dropped at those words, filling me with sadness. A tugging inside me was pulling at me to say something to him. But what was there to tell?
I was an unemployed thirty-five-year-old woman with barely any relationship experience, more baggage than an airport, and emotional armour so thick it could withstand a nuclear blast.
He was better off not knowing anything I had to say.
You don’t end up with the guy Riley. Dax was someone who lived inside the house.
And I was still on the outside, nose pressed to the window.
I cleared my throat and looked at him through my lashes, unable to lift my head to truly face him.
“You know… it’s been genuinely nice knowing you too,” I said. And I meant it.
His eyes held mine for a beat. Were they filled with unspoken words like mine?
“Thanks for all your help,” I added.
His smile dropped as if my words had pierced him, and he nodded.
“It’s what I do,” he replied, tone hollow.
“Cado!” Bill called, jumping up from his seat as he realised the dog was still sitting outside. I’d forgotten anyone else was in the room, and now my cheeks burned pink.
“I’ll walk him home with you Bill, I need the exercise,” Dax said and patted his flat belly. He obviously did not, but he was sweet not to make Bill look like an invalid, and that only made this moment harder.
Bill chuckled loudly and patted his own belly. “Beer used to make this tummy big. It’s gone now though. Look!” he kept patting his stomach as if it were the first time he’d noticed it was flat, although it didn't come close to matching the muscular structure of Dax.
“See-ya Ry,” Dax called over his shoulder.
I couldn’t help letting my gaze fall down the back of his running shorts as he walked away.
They always leave.
But he could call me whatever he liked.