“Text me?” His voice was quiet, just for me.
“Yeah. Tonight.”
“Okay.”
I forced myself to turn, to walk to my car, to get in and start the engine like a normal person.
But I watched him in my rearview mirror as I pulled away, watched him standing there on the sidewalk watching me go.
And I wondered how much longer we could keep pretending this was something we could control.
How much longer before someone noticed that when I looked at Dex Moore, I saw my entire future?
And how much longer before I could finally admit that to myself?
Chapter 16
LEIGH
It was nearly nine when I pulled into the garage parking lot, the pizza box warm on my passenger seat. Dex’s truck was still there, and lights glowed from the shop floor.
I’d texted him an hour ago asking if he’d eaten. His response—Too busy. Forgot—made me feel bad for keeping him busy so much. I should have realised that things would have been backing up at the garage.
The garage bay door was open, classic rock playing low from somewhere inside. I found him under the hood of a beat-up Chevy, grease streaked across his forearm, that focused expression on his face that I’d come to recognize. The one that said he was trying to lose himself in work.
“You know,” I said, leaning against the doorframe, “most people stop working when it gets dark.”
His head jerked up, surprise flashing across his face before it melted into something warmer. “Most people don’t have three cars to finish by Monday.”
“Most people also eat dinner.”
“I was going to…” He stopped, caught the smell of pizza, and grinned. “You brought food.”
“I brought bribery.” I held up the box. “Pepperoni and sausage. Your favorite, according to Xander.”
“Xander talks too much.” But he was already wiping his hands on a rag, that smile still playing at his lips. “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to.” I set the pizza on his workbench, carefully avoiding any tools or parts. “Besides, I haven’t seen you in two days. I missed you.”
Something in his expression shifted. Softened. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.” I moved closer, drawn to him like always. “Terrible, right? We spend every day together for weeks and then two days apart feels like forever.”
“Terrible,” he agreed, but his arms came around my waist, pulling me against him. “Absolutely terrible.”
He kissed me, slow and thorough, and I melted into him despite the grease and sweat and garage smell that clung to him. Or maybe because of it. This was Dex in his element. Dex being himself.
“You taste like motor oil,” I murmured against his lips.
“You taste like heaven.” He kissed me again, deeper this time. “Much better than motor oil.”
“Low bar.”
He laughed, the sound rumbling through his chest. “Come on. Let me clean up and we can eat. I’m starving.”
“Where? Here?” I looked around the garage dubiously.
“Upstairs.” He grabbed my hand, lacing our fingers together. “I have an apartment above the shop. Nothing fancy, but it’s private.”
