His grin lit his face like a spotlight on a dark stage. “Do you have a second?”
“Sure, but?—”
“Come with me.”
Dexter grabbed my fritter bag and motioned for me to follow him into the kitchen. A large man and a petite woman wearing matching white aprons were heads down and elbows deep in a vat of frosting. They were in the midst of a heated discussion in Spanish and didn’t notice us trek to the back door.
A thin layer of fog painted the alleyway like a gossamer veil. It was quiet at this hour of the morning, and empty.
“This is very suspicious. What are we doing out here?”
“We’re having a private chat,” he replied.
“I hate chatting.”
“I know.”
“Did Freya tell you about her next doctor appointment?”
I nodded, peering into the pastry bag. “The heartbeat appointment.”
He beamed. “Finally. Anyway, she texted to see if it was okay if you joined us and I just wanted to personally let you know that it’s cool by me.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeah. We can drive up together.”
I closed the pastry bag and studied his earnest expression. “Okay.”
Dexter slugged my arm playfully, his smile threatening to split his face in half. “Great!”
That much joy was almost too much…too contagious, too sweet, too pleasant. It was safer to think about fucking him like an animal than it was to share a poignant milestone.
“Yeah. Well, I should go and—oomph.”
Dexter leaped forward and wrapped me in a bro hug that morphed into an octopus hold.
Logically, I knew that extreme emotion sometimes led to random celebratory displays. I wasn’t a hugger, though. It wasn’tsecond nature for me to initiate physical contact, and I was terrible at receiving it, too.
I stiffened immediately, and of course, Dexter stepped backward.
“Sorry. I’m just so…”
“Happy. I know.”
Dexter’s smile faded, and his cheeks turned pink. He averted his gaze and mumbled something about getting to work.
And I should have let him go.
I didn’t want him to be ashamed or embarrassed, though. He had every right to be happy, every right to express his joy. I almost felt sorry that I was the only one who knew what he was going through.
I grasped his elbow, intending to say something…nice. Something like, “I’m happy for you. It’s going to be okay.” Or even, “I’m driving to the appointment. Don’t argue.”
Nothing came out.
We were inches apart now, my heart pounded against my rib cage as my brain struggled to catch up. Logical thought flew out the window. I couldn’t concentrate with Dexter in my space. He was so beautiful, and he smelled so good. Like sugary frosting and spices and the forest.
I drifted closer…and closer till we were toe-to-toe. And then…oh, so slowly…he tilted his chin and pressed his lips to mine.
