Page 74 of Have To Be Mine

“I wasn’t sure you’d wear it,” I admitted, reaching for the wine.

“I almost didn’t.” She watched me pour. “But then I figured, when in Greece, right?”

“Right.” I handed her a glass and raised mine. “To surviving Mykonos.”

“To surviving each other,” she countered with a smile.

We clinked glasses and I watched her take a sip. The way her lips touched the rim made me think about things I definitely shouldn’t be thinking about during dinner.

The first course arrived. It looked like art on a plate. Krista picked up her fork and studied it.

“Do you even know what this is?” she asked.

“Not a clue. But it’s expensive and the chef is world-class. So, it has to be good.”

She laughed and took a bite. Her eyes widened. “Okay, that’s actually incredible.”

“See? You don’t have to know all the details. It’s all about trusting the process.”

We talked as the courses came and went. I deliberately steered the conversation away from work, away from anything serious. I wanted to know about her life outside of logistics and military training and wrangling idiots like me.

“Tell me about New York,” I said. “Where do you live?”

“Upper West Side. Small apartment. Nothing fancy.” She took another sip of wine. “It’s more like a storage unit for my stuff than an actual home, honestly. I’m barely there.”

“Because you’re always working.”

“Pretty much. I take contracts back to back. It’s easier that way.”

“Easier than what?”

She paused, considering. “Easier than having to figure out what to do with myself when I’m not working.”

I understood that more than she probably realized. I’d spent years filling my time with parties and women and anything that kept me from having to sit still with my own thoughts.

“What do you do when you are home?” I asked.

“Laundry. Meal prep. Go to the gym. Exciting stuff.” She smiled self-deprecatingly. “I’m not very interesting when I’m not working—I’m not that interesting when I am working, I suppose. I’m a very boring person.”

“I don’t believe that for a second.”

“It’s true. I don’t have hobbies. I don’t have friends I see regularly. I have my dad in Florida, and I have work. That’s pretty much it.”

“What about dating?”

She nearly choked on her wine. “Dating?”

“Yeah. You know that thing people do where they go out and eat dinner or see a movie?”

“I know what dating is, Dash.” She set down her glass. “I don’t do it.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m always traveling. Because men don’t know what to do with me.” She shrugged and looked out at the water. “Because it’s easier not to.”

There was that word again. Easier. Like she had an allergy to difficult, except I was pretty sure she thrived on challenges. She didn’t like easy.

The third course arrived—some kind of lamb that melted on my tongue. Krista made a sound that was borderline obscene when she tasted it. My balls were still a bit blue, edging on purple at this point, and the noises she made weren’t helping.