Page 28 of Parentmoon

He blows out a breath and rolls to his back. “It isn’t the same thing.”

Dallas isn’t making any sense but before I can ask for more clarification, he says, “I didn’t leave the restaurant with another woman.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation.” My angry retort holds the sting of my memory. She was missing after he left.

Our current circumstance suddenly catches up with me. We just had sex, and we’re arguing about him with another woman.

I sit up and clutch the sheet to my chest, feeling even more naked and exposed to him than minutes ago when his body entered mine.

Dallas follows my position, bracing an arm behind my back and pressing his lips to my bare shoulder. “I get that you thought you saw something, but it didn’t happen. I didn’t leave that dinner with another woman.” He pulls back from my shoulder. “Don’t be projecting on me something that has nothing to do with me, darlin’. I’m giving you an explanation. Trust my word.”

But I still don’t understand his reasoning and when I don’t acknowledge his word, Dallas shuffles off the bed. He stands and glances back at me. “We should get breakfast before the dining room closes.”

He isn’t cold in his address but the warmth of our bodies coming together is no longer between us. When I don’t speak, he nods once. “I’ll be waiting on you downstairs.”

He gives me his back and descends the stairs, leaving me wondering how we went from luscious sex to this icky sensation in my stomach.

Have I misunderstood Dallas since our first meeting?

+ + +

Dallas misses out on fishing. The boats are gone, and the resort is empty of guests again. The quiet is almost eerie. While there is a central pool, there are two others located at opposite ends of the resort, giving them a private atmosphere. After an awkward breakfast, Dallas and I decide to sit by the pool closest to his house.

He’d been dozing. I’ve been reading a book, but I’m having trouble concentrating. Wondering once again how we went from playfully discussing a fictional character to the complication of real life and Dallas feeling excluded at the table during that first dinner. I can’t imagine Dallas ever being excluded from anything in his life, but that’s why I’m sitting here in a quandary. I’ve made assumptions about Dallas when admittedly, beyond the basics, I know nothing about him. My source on all things Dallas Cole has never been him.

Eventually, I glance up to find him watching me and meet his sky-colored eyes. “What?”

He’d tugged our loungers closer together when we first arrived at the pool’s edge.

“I can’t decide if I want you to remove your top or straddle me? Maybe remove your top and straddle me.”

The lingering tension between us rolls off me as I gingerly laugh at his directness. I’m wearing a two-piece suit that’s strapless on top and has tummy control bottoms. “I am not removing my top or straddling you. People could see us.”

Dallas sits up and peers around. The place is so vacant, we might as well be on a private island. “No one around to see, darlin’.” He pats his lap. “Hop on Pop.”

I laugh again. The awkwardness from earlier this morning slowly dissipates. “We could get caught.”

He leans on his elbow, twisting his fine, nearly-fifty-year-old body to face me. “Need to loosen up a little.”

Instantly, hackles rise, and my spine stiffens. “My ex used to say that to me. He made me feel like I was no fun. ‘Course, he’d be drunk when he’d say such a thing.”

You need to put out more.

Why are you always so tired?

A little sex could be good for you.

Dallas stares at me and I bite my lip. “I want to apologize for this morning. I shouldn’t have made an assumption and I shouldn’t project on you things that have nothing to do with you.”

Dallas doesn’t move from his perched arm, holding him on his side.

“Michael tells me I speak my mind too often and sometimes I’m a little brash.” Or judge-y.

In the light of a new day, I’m slowly seeing Dallas differently. While we’ve been quiet all morning, he’s still been attentive. Pulling out my chair at breakfast. Pouring me coffee. Placing these loungers closer together.

“Craig . . . was a man who ran hot and cold. He lied easily and often, and I believed his lies as truths. It makes me extra cautious and quick to judge. It wasn’t fair of me to think you’d acted in a similar manner.” Maybe I haven’t properly recalled what I thought I saw that night. Even if he had gone off with another woman, it wasn’t my business.

Dallas remains silent.