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“I didn’t have this much cash in my wallet.”
Trey glanced down at her hand, gripping the money. “You do now.”
“Trey?” she whispered.
Dahlia was about to ask how he’d gotten her things back, but Trey never gave her the chance.
“Come on.”
Trey walked past her, and she followed. After exiting the office, she naturally expected to leave through her usual exit, but Trey continued toward the end of the hall. They were ten feet away when Rogue emerged from his office, heading straight toward them. Dahlia wasn’t exactly sure what transpired between Rogue and Trey, but Trey wasn’t showing any signs of trying to conceal their connection.
“Done for the night?” Rogue asked as he approached them.
“Yes.” That was all Trey said, and Rogue gave a quick nod.
When they reached the elevators, Dahlia glanced over her shoulder. Rogue was rounding the corner when his dark eyes landed on her. Dahlia immediately bowed her head and turned to face Trey. For someone who valued his privacy, he wasn’t doing a good job of protecting it.
“Do you want me to take the stairs?”
Trey scowled. “Why?”
Dahlia shrugged. “Discretion?”
The corner of his mouth curled. “I think we’re beyond discretion when it comes to Rogue.”
****
Trey had spent time with a lot of women, but this was certainly a first. He’d ordered food and had it delivered to the apartment when they arrived. Trey expected they’d eat at the breakfast bar, considering that was where he’d eaten most of his meals, if not at his desk.
Dahlia had other ideas. She walked directly to the cabinets, opening a few before finally finding the dishes. She proceeded to set the table. He was sure the dining room had only ever been used when Sal would occasionally stay with Trey for a night or two. While Trey made a drink, she took out all the food, and God knows where she found them, but apparently, he had placemats.
It was a strange, domesticated scene for him. The whole concept was foreign. Dahlia carried the conversation most of the time. She was open and shared a lot. They were the polar opposite. Trey had been trained to never give anyone more than needed, and Dahlia talked about everything from her childhood to her friends with a heavy emphasis on her family. There was one part she’d left out, though he’d already known about it. She never spoke of her father’s death or the manner in which he’d died.
Dahlia wiped her mouth and tossed the napkin on her plate, then reached for his plate. Trey would’ve helped clean up, but he was enjoying watching her move around his kitchen. The first time he’d brought her here, she’d acted almost afraid to touch anything, as if she was in a museum. She seemed to have found her comfort zone at his place.
“You know…” A small smile played on her lips as she walked back to the table. “I could cook for us next time. Have I mentioned I’m pretty good at it?”
Trey sipped his whiskey and smirked. “You have.”
“If you invite me over again, I’ll make you my specialty.”
“As I’m sure you’ve seen, there’s no food to cook here.”
Dahlia shrugged. “I’ll pick up everything.”
“I can pay for my own food.”
“I know you can.” Dahlia lifted her leg over his thighs and straddled his lap, resting her hands on his chest. “Or? I can do exactly what I just offered to do and make you a meal. And you can let someone else do something nice for you. No strings attached.”
Trey was too jaded to buy into her statement. It stemmed from his past, and impossible to let go. Nothing came for free. He was living proof of that.
Trey scoffed. “There are always strings attached.”
She playfully pouted. “That’s not a positive way of looking at good deeds.”
“It’s the truth.”
Dahlia hummed, slowly unbuttoning his shirt. “What if I promise there’s no strings attached. And I’ll sweeten the offer by cooking naked in your kitchen. Not exactly sanitary but definitely exciting.”
