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Chapter Two - One Month Later
Dex
Cary, the cute guy with dark hair who sat across the dinner table from me, leaned in and licked his lower lip, sinking his teeth into it. “So, you’re Dex. Ellie was right about you—you’re hot.”
I cleared my throat and watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed, his pupils wide in his dark brown eyes. “Thanks.” Then, almost as an afterthought, I realized I should say something back. “Uh, you are too.” I nodded, satisfied with myself, and picked up the wine list.
He sat back and laughed, his full lips parting as he did. “No need to deflect a compliment.”
I frowned and looked back up at him. “You’re right. I apologize. Thank you.” I suppressed the urge to explain, to continue talking. That was a carryover from my insecure high school years, which were decades ago, and which still haunted me sometimes.
“That’s better.” He picked up his wine menu and hummed over it, flipping the pages and scanning them with his gaze. “I’mthinking of ordering this one. What do you think?” He pointed at a spot on the menu and held it out for me to see.
The bottle was three hundred dollars. I nodded carefully, hoping my expression gave nothing away, and put my menu down. “Of course.”
Cary’s smile froze a little as he put the menu down, and I couldn’t help but wonder what he was thinking with that expression on his face. “Great.” The server arrived a few moments later, and Cary ordered the wine. I added an appetizer for us to share.
A moment after the server had departed, Cary cleared his throat. “So, Dex Thompson, what do you do?”
I gave a shrug that I hoped looked offhand and casual. “Number cruncher,” I murmured, my boilerplate answer whenever someone asked about my job.
“You must crunch an awful lot of numbers, then.”
I shrugged. “I do what needs to be done.”
“Ellie said you run some kind of company?”
I closed my eyes for a second.Damn it, Ellie. Why would you say that?Ellie was a new intern at the firm, someone who was working in our finance department and who I’d tried to make an effort to get to know—as I did with all our interns. This time, though, it seemed to have backfired on me. I knew they had given her training on privacy and discretion in the workplace, but clearly it hadn’t sunk in.
“Not important. Let’s talk about something more interesting than work.” I waved the question away.Please drop it.
Cary smiled again, warm and inviting, his voice smooth as silk. “You’re right. I don’t know why I brought it up.”
The rest of the dinner passed easily, conversation flowing between us, building tension crackling in the air, and before I knew it, we were standing on the sidewalk near his car. I leanedin to kiss him goodnight and he ducked back a little. Heat raced to my cheeks, burning hot on my face.
I cleared my throat. “Sorry, I must have misread the situation,” I murmured.
Cary shook his head, inching his body closer to mine. “I just thought it might be nice if we went somewhere a little more private to say goodnight. Like, maybe your place?”
That was a hard no. I didn’t bring guys back to my home—not ever. I shook my head. “That’s not an option, but…” I thought for a second.You like him. He likes you. Why the hell not?“What if I got us a hotel room instead?”
His eyes lit up. “That sounds perfect.”
We walked the short distance to Port Grandlin’s hotel block, which housed a whopping three hotels, each with its own charm and clientele. I led him to the one farthest down the block, called the Washington, and held the door for him. It was a place I’d visited plenty of times previously, both with other dates and for business meetings with out-of-town guests.
Cary’s eyes were wide as I ushered him inside. He looked around, taking it all in—the huge staircase with rich red carpeting, the massive ceilings with crystal chandeliers, the ancient wood polished to a high shine, the gold accents. The Washington was no pay-by-the-hour motel, that was for sure.
“Be right back,” I said to him, and gestured for him to sit in one of the plush upholstered seats. I made my way to the front desk and spoke in low tones to the receptionist there. The staff of the Washington had a reputation for discretion, and in just moments, she was sliding a key card across the granite counter with a smile.
“Enjoy your stay, Mr. Thompson.”
“Thank you.” I lifted my fingers in a little wave to Cary to indicate that he should follow me, and we took an elevator up to the top floor, where I led Cary to our room.
“Wow,” he whispered as I opened the door, holding it aside for him to enter. “This is… something else.”
I smiled, closing the door behind me with a soft click, and shrugged my jacket off, hanging it carefully in the closet. “I’m glad you like it.”
“It must have cost you a fortune.” Cary clamped his mouth shut for a moment before continuing. “I guess guys like you don’t care about that sort of thing, though, huh?”
