Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 89674 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 448(@200wpm)___ 359(@250wpm)___ 299(@300wpm)
Oh man, nothing about my love for this man had changed. If anything it had only grown while we’d been apart.
Amelia was hovering near the door. “Is that Beau?”
His stare switched to Amelia who waved toward the UPS truck. After another unnecessarily loud honk, Beau repositioned in the seat to drive away. The impatient vehicle behind Beau drove past us, shooting me the finger as if I had stopped in the street.
“Now, he knows we’re here,” Amelia said happily. I completely agreed with the sentiment. My heart smiled for the first time in a long time. “The sign looks great. The most prominent one on the street.”
I turned to look down at the other shop signs. Mine did stand out. What a difference a cool font made. The smile I’d given Beau stayed on my face. I’d never doubted my decisions to liquidate everything and move to Sea Springs, but it was nice to have the reassurance. For sure, Beau loved me, and I was here to stay.
26: The Walnuts
Beau/Dash
Beau
Sea Springs, Texas
“Mr. Beau,” Amelia said, lively. “Hello. I missed you.” True to form, she moved around her desk to envelop me in a warm hug. I embraced her just as tightly, balancing the small package and scanner with one hand. “I have something for you. Don’t leave.”
Naturally, she didn’t make it easy on me to slide in and out with only a quick greeting. In her enthusiasm, her hands waved in the air as she rushed back around her desk. That was when I noticed Dash leaning against the doorframe to what must have been an office, arms crossed over his chest, appearing as if he had all the confidence in the world, which technically suited him perfectly. Man, he looked incredibly good. So good. His stare was locked on me, but he didn’t say a single word.
“Dash and I baked these for you last night. They’re chocolate chip cookies,” she said proudly, bringing up a festively decorated tin from a drawer at her desk. Her gaze shot back to Dash, as if to include him in the conversation.
“With walnuts,” Dash added. My mouth watered. I missed lunch today to make time this afternoon for Dixie’s veterinary appointment.
“With walnuts,” Amelia repeated, completely aware of how much I enjoyed her cookies. I hadn’t had them since her last visit to Chicago a few years ago. She handed over the container as if presenting me with a special prize. I scanned the barcode on the package and traded it for the cookie tin. The delivery required a signature, so I passed over the handheld scanner for Amelia to sign. She was much better at juggling the load than I had been.
“Thank you. It’s hard to believe Dash was in on this,” I said, my attention divided as I clicked through the screens to submit the delivery details.
“No, he really did. The Airbnb he rented has a beautiful kitchen. So big.” She beamed broadly at Dash. “He’s such a good man. It was all his idea.”
That was even harder to believe. Dash hadn’t spent time in the kitchen since he graduated law school. The sudden silence quickly became uncomfortable. Rather than brush aside the tension, I focused on Dash, getting serious, draining all the joy from the room. “What’re you doing?”
“Keeping an eye on you,” Dash said, smugly, lifting one shoulder as if the answer were obvious. His nonchalance was a too familiar reminder of the person Dash had become. He added a smirk to complete the picture.
My focus shifted to Amelia. “I appreciate the cookies. I’ll definitely eat them all.”
“Dasham, share what you want him to know,” Amelia scolded.
“I’ll answer when he asks questions he doesn’t already know the answers to,” Dash said, his intense gaze fixed firmly on me.
I let out a sharp bark of laughter, turning away from him. Let the games begin. As I started toward the door, I heard Dash’s sure stride and the soft click of his loafers behind me. When I glanced back, Amelia was nowhere to be seen, and Dash was closing in on me.
“Ask the question you truly want an answer to.”
Dash halted inches away from me, making it impossible to open the door. I cast a sneer over my shoulder. He came in so close that his unique scent of cologne wreaked havoc on my senses, frustrating me.
“Back off,” I said and flipped around, ready for the confrontation. Dash stayed right there, holding his ground, way too close for comfort.
“That’s not the question,” he said. His sultry voice had the same medicinal balm as the gentle breeze coming off the ocean. And I had to get the fuck out of here before my defenses lowered more than they were.
“Why’re you here?” I asked.
“You know that answer too,” Dash said, shaking his head. Irritation had a single brow lowering. “I’ll share the answer anyway. I resigned from the firm a week after you didn’t come home with me. I’ve sold the penthouse and our Dallas home…”