Chapter 24 #2
Something flickered in his eyes. An emotion I couldn’t quite name. “Yeah. I guess I am.”
Before we could say anything else, our waiter appeared. I ordered the pasta, and Dex got the chicken parm. Maria helped us pick out a bottle of wine to share, and when she left we fell into easy conversation.
Conversation about anything but what we’d both come to realise. A seed had been set though. Dex needed to stay in Willowbrook, so it we were going to be together then I needed to find a way to be here. A way to leave Wren behind.
But that wasn’t something I wanted to face right now. It wasn’t something I wanted to taint the memories of our first real date with.
“So tell me something I don’t know about you,” I said, twirling my wine glass.
“That’s a big question.”
“Start small then. What’s your favorite thing about running the garage?”
He thought about it, his thumb absently rubbing circles on the back of my hand. “The problem-solving. Every car that comes in is a puzzle. Symptoms don’t always point to the obvious cause. You have to dig deeper, think creatively.”
“Sounds like photography actually. You’re trying to capture a feeling, a moment. The technical stuff—aperture, shutter speed, lighting—those are just tools. The real work is seeing what others miss.”
“I never thought about it that way, but yeah. That’s exactly it.” He smiled. “What’s your favorite thing to photograph?”
“People. Specifically, people when they forget I’m there.
That moment when they’re so caught up in each other or in the moment that the camera disappears.
That’s when you get the real stuff. The love, the joy, the connection.
The simple emotions that form part of living when you’re not guarding yourself from observation. ”
“Is that why you do the candid street photography?”
“Yes. But also...” I paused, trying to find the words.
“I grew up with just me and my mom. We’re close obviously, but there’s this thing connection that people have without even realising it.
The bonds that tie us to the places we live and the people around us.
Sometimes, when the moment is right, when you’re not even thinking about anything but that exact moment in time, you can almost see them.
And that’s what I like to try and capture with a camera.
It’s silly,” I said blushing in embarrassment.
His expression had gone soft. “No, it’s beautiful, Leigh.”
“It’s also an obsession that thankfully pays the bills,” I added, deflecting.
He laughed softly, but I knew he saw right through me. “You can be both practical and romantic, you know. They’re not mutually exclusive.”
“Says the man who brought me a single sunflower.”
He squeezed my hand softly, his eyes lighting up with amusement and we leaned closer. It all felt so easy. So right. Like we’d been doing this for years instead of hiding for months.
Our food arrived, and we ate while talking about everything and nothing.
He told me about growing up with the Farrington brothers, about how he’d essentially moved into their grandfather’s ranch every summer because they spent so much time there.
About learning to work on cars from his grandfather, about the day the old man had handed him the keys to the garage.
“He said, ‘It’s yours now. Make it something you’re proud of,’“ Dex said quietly. “I was eighteen. Barely knew what I was doing. But I couldn’t let him down.”
“And you haven’t,” I said firmly. “The garage is thriving. Everyone talks about how good you are, how fair you are.”
“It’s not about me. It’s about him. His legacy.”
“Dex.” I waited until he looked at me. “It stopped being just his legacy a long time ago. You’ve put fifteen years of your life into that place. It’s yours now. Your legacy.”
He didn’t respond, but something in his expression told me he’d heard me. Even if he wasn’t ready to believe it yet.
After dinner, we walked through town. The evening had cooled, and more people were out now. Couples strolling, families finishing ice cream cones, teenagers gathering on the benches by the gazebo.
And every single person we passed seemed to know Dex. They’d wave, call out hello, stop to chat briefly. And every single time, he’d introduce me.
“This is Leigh. Jasper’s daughter.”
“Leigh Pierce, the photographer.”
“My girlfriend, Leigh.”
That last one made my heart skip every time.
We ended up at the ice cream shop, a tiny place with a line out the door. As we waited, Dex kept his arm around my waist, and I leaned into him, comfortable and content.
“You were right,” I murmured. “I have been eyeing this place every time we drive past.”
“I know. You get this look. Like a kid pressing their nose against a toy store window.”
“I do not!”
“You absolutely do. It’s cute.”
We finally reached the counter, and I ordered mint chip while Dex got rocky road. We took our cones outside and found a bench near the gazebo.
“This is nice,” I said, taking a bite. “Normal. Easy.”
“Yeah, it is.” He was watching me with that look again. The one that made me feel like I was the only person in the world.
“What?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious.
“Nothing. Just... I’m really glad you’re here.”
“Me too.”
And I meant it. Despite the uncertainty of August looming ahead, despite not knowing how this could possibly work long-term, right now, in this moment, I was exactly where I wanted to be.
“Dex Moore, is that you?” A new voice interrupted our moment.
An older man was approaching, white hair, weathered face, carrying his own ice cream cone. His eyes were shrewd but kind.
“Mr. Riley,” Dex stood, respectful. “Good to see you.”
“Been meaning to stop by the garage. My truck’s making a funny noise.” He turned his attention to me. “And who’s this lovely young lady?”
“This is Leigh. My girlfriend.”
There was pride in his voice when he said it. Like he wanted the whole world to know.
“Ah, Jasper’s girl! Heard about you.” Mr. Riley offered his hand, and I shook it. “Welcome to Willowbrook. You taking good care of our boy here?”
“Trying my best,” I said with a smile.
“Good, good. He deserves someone special.” He clapped Dex on the shoulder. “Your granddad would’ve liked her. She’s got kind eyes. He always said you could tell everything about a person from their eyes.”
Dex’s expression tightened briefly, but he smiled. “Thanks, Mr. Riley.”
After he left, Dex was quieter. We finished our ice cream in silence, watching the evening unfold around us.
“You okay?” I finally asked.
“Yeah. Just... everyone keeps mentioning my grandfather. About what he’d think. What he’d want.” He turned to me. “Sometimes I feel like I’m living his life, not mine.”
“What would your life look like? If it was just yours?”
He was quiet for a long moment. “I don’t know. I’ve never let myself think about it.”
“Maybe you should.”
We walked back to his truck slowly, neither of us in a hurry for the night to end. When we reached it, Dex didn’t immediately open my door. Instead, he pulled me close, resting his forehead against mine.
“Thank you for tonight,” he said softly.
“For what? You planned everything.”
“For being with me. For walking through town holding my hand. For letting everyone see us together.” He kissed me, soft and sweet. “For making this real.”
“It was always real, Dex. We were just hiding it.”
“Not anymore.”
“Not anymore,” I agreed.
He drove me back to Jasper’s house, and we sat in the driveway for another twenty minutes, talking and laughing and stealing kisses like teenagers.
Finally, reluctantly, I pulled away. “I should go in. Mom’s probably watching from the window.”
“She definitely is. I can see the curtain moving.”
I laughed. “Then I should really go give her something to gossip about.”
I kissed him one more time, deeper, more intense. A promise of more to come.
“Goodnight, Dex.”
“Goodnight, Leigh.”
I walked to the door, and he waited until I was inside before driving away. Through the window, I watched his taillights disappear down the street.
Mom appeared beside me, a knowing smile on her face.
“So,” she said. “How was your date?”
“Perfect,” I admitted. “It was absolutely perfect.”
“Good. You deserve perfect.”
I did. We both did.
And for three more weeks, I was going to let myself have it.