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Curiosity, cold and an admitted feeling of forbidden naughtiness to see what could happen when she and Dex were alone in a nonfreezing place stirred together in an explosive combination.
“I’d love to heat up,” she told him.
Dex’s smile was slow, intense and sexy. Zoe’s body went into meltdown mode, despite her determination to watch her step. He pressed his hand into the small of her back, warming her as he guided her through the arched metal to his gate.
Typical of the small town, the front door was unlocked. “Can I get you something to drink?” Dex offered as he swung it open.
“Nah, I’m good.”
She glanced over when he made a little choking noise in his throat. He met her eyes, his look pure innocent questioning.
“Through here,” was all he said as he gestured.
Zoe looked around with unabashed nosiness as Dex led her from the tiled entryway to the large sunken living room. Muted colors, soft textures, simple lines. Much the way she remembered his parents. Not the kind to stand out, definitely on the quiet side.
“It’s hard to picture you growing up here,” she said as she peeked into the formal dining room while he stoked the fireplace embers into a nice flame.
Dex tossed her a questioning look over his shoulder, then glanced around the room. “Really? Why?”
“It’s so mellow. You aren’t really the mellow type.”
Finished poking at the wood, Dex rose to his feet and crossed over to the large sectional couch. Apparently at ease with Zoe’s nosing about, he dropped down and propped his arm over the back cushion.
“What type am I then?” he asked with an amused look that said he was humoring her joke.
She was serious though. Zoe considered him as she slowly walked over and dropped to the cushion next to him. She leaned one elbow on the back cushion and propped her chin on her fist.
“Driven,” she said contemplatively. “Intelligent and so self-possessed that you often intimidated other people. You never seemed to care, though. You just did your own thing, regardless of what everyone else thought.”
Dex pulled a face and shrugged. “Okay, I guess I did. But you did, too.”
“No,” she disagreed. “I might have done my own thing, but I never let go of worrying about what other people were thinking. Saying about me.”
“But you never let that stop you. And you haven’t changed, have you?” he said, his tone implying that she was to be admired.
“How do you figure?”
“You showed up at a reunion for a class you basically detested, wearing a leather dominatrix outfit and sporting a whip.”
She smirked. “It was a crop.”
“And I hear you wielded it well. Like I said, you have no problem rubbing their faces in your individuality,” Dex mused. “You might wonder what they think, but you never let it keep you from following your own path.”
Zoe smiled, pretending she agreed with his analysis. But she knew better. Worrying about what people thought of her was her standard MO. It had haunted her through high school, had molded her career and was dogging her now, even as she sat with the one person in the world she’d never had to worry about trusting.
“Did you ever find out who was behind the naked limbo contest?” she asked, changing the subject with a grin. She had to admit, the reunion games were turning out to be a lot less boring than they’d been in the agenda the committee had sent out.
Dex’s sigh was a work of art. A hint of color washed his cheeks and he nodded his head ruefully.
“Who?” she demanded.
“My grandmother.”
Zoe burst out laughing. “You’re kidding!”
“She’s also offering to help couples unblock their sexual chakra in the lobby, and she’s matchmaking according to aura colors.” He grinned and shrugged. “You might want to watch out for her.”
“That’d account for the line waiting after she gave me that little reading,” Zoe recalled with a giggle of delight.
“Probably.”
“So what have you been doing with your life the past ten years?” she asked, changing the subject by leaning over to lightly punch him in the arm. Hey, any excuse to get a touch in.
“Nothing much,” he dismissed, his beautiful eyes seeming to get a little distant. “I spent a few years at M.I.T., then went to work for a tech company. I specialized in strategic endeavors and applications. Made a lot of money, sent it home to help my parents, got burned out and here I am.”
Zoe nodded. Definitely not creative. His explanation put to rest that tiny, nagging suspicion she’d had that he might, just maybe, be Gandalf. But people didn’t go to M.I.T. for graphic design. And besides, she’d asked. He’d said no. And Dex wouldn’t lie to her.
