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And then, because men will be men, Levi leans towards Ryan and adds, “I prefer my women like my cake.”
The table erupts in groans.
“Me too, boy. Me too,” Grandpa adds with a mouthful of cake.
“That’s such a gross word,” Abby gags, throwing a glare in Levi’s direction.
“Agreed.” This from Lexi. She throws her own glare at Chris, who’s barely pulled his nose out of his cell phone.
I can’t help but look around and wonder where Dean would fit in this picture. He’s not exactly the numbers nerd I originally thought, but still likes organization and rules. I see him talking about his day with Josh and about building projects with Ryan. He’ll discuss sports with my dad, and maybe even help man the grill. I can picture him laughing at everyone’s jokes, even the dirty ones, and pray that he doesn’t think my family’s as crazy as they really are.
When I look around, I see Dean fitting in anywhere.
And maybe that’s okay.
Maybe that’s not as scary as I thought it would be.
Then reality creeps in and slaps me across the face like a cold wind off Lake Michigan. I still have my reasons for avoiding relationships, and those reasons are solid. But maybe I need to give Dean the chance and the choice. No, I’m not ready to tell him everything, but maybe, over time, I’ll learn to trust him enough to share my secrets. I just pray he doesn’t run for the hills, leaving me in a heap of mangled heart pieces and salty tears, when it’s all said and done. But perhaps he won’t. What if Dean actually isn’t bothered by my shocking news, and wants to stick it out with me? No, I know it’s too early in our budding relationship to think long-term, but I’m a girl. Even a pessimist like me thinks about this stuff every once in a while. I just won’t let myself get too caught up in the fairytale, not for too long anyway.
Because…what if?
Maybe he’ll be the one to actually stay.
* * *
Wednesday night. Dean’s late night. I close up shop, send Rachel home early, and drive towards his work with a smile on my face and a condom in my pocket. Not exactly the most romantic locale for sexy times, but hey, when one of us is an accountant during tax season, you don’t always get to be choosey.
And sex atop a desk is kinda hot.
When I enter the firm, I find the secretary sitting at her desk. She’s filing a stack of papers with the phone perched on her shoulder. The lines under her eyes tell me she’s as exhausted as she sounds, but she still greets me with a warm smile.
“Can I help you?” she asks as soon as she puts the phone down.
“I was hoping to speak with Dean McIntire for a moment.” No, I probably don’t need to use his last name since there are only three accountants here and only one with the first name of Dean, but I’m working on keeping this as professional as possible here.
“Do you have an appointment?”
“No, I don’t. I’m a client of his and I was hoping to drop these off for him,” I say, tapping the manila file folder in my hand.
“He’s with a client, but I could leave them for him.” She stands up, reaching for the folder.
“Well, I would just leave it, but there’s a few things I was hoping to discuss with him. Professionally.” Why did I say that? Might as well tattoo the word guilty across my forehead. Maybe add I’m planning to have sex with Dean on his desk down my arm.
“Of course. Well, he’s with his final client of the evening. If you’d like to wait, it shouldn’t be too much longer.”
I thank her and take a seat on one of the vinyl chairs in the waiting area. The building is silent except for a few clicks on a keyboard, and the occasional sigh. Starting to seriously reconsider my plan, I think about getting up. There’s still time to slip out without Dean knowing I was here. But I won’t do that. I can’t. He’s like a magnet, pulling me towards him. There’s no point in fighting it; it’s futile.
When I glance down at my phone to check the time, I hear a door open. Dean follows a young couple out of his office. They’re chatting politely, and he has yet to see me. I feel the pull clear down to my toes when our eyes meet across the waiting room. Everything and everyone around us fades away until we’re the only two left in the entire world. Just us.
“I’ll have your paperwork finalized tomorrow. Cora will give you a call when it’s ready to be picked up,” he says, giving the couple before him his full attention. They shake hands before Dean holds open the front door and bids them a good night.
His eyes are dark and full of something needy when they turn back to me. Before either of us can speak, Cora pipes up from behind her reception desk.
“Miss Summer doesn’t have an appointment, Mr. McIntire, but was hoping to steal a moment of your time to drop something off.”
“Of course. Come on back, Miss Summer,” he says, a subtle smirk playing on the corner of his mouth.
His mouth. His lips are full and remind me of all the wicked things they did to me just a week ago. That mouth is part of the reason I’m here, while he’s supposed to be working. Even talking to him every day has done nothing to squash the looming desire that’s ready to flame to life with mere thoughts of him and his talented mouth.
