“That’s so cool. Egypt is one of the most dangerous places in the world to visit. Why were you there?”
“Work.”
“What do you do again?” He’d said something about finance, but he hadn’t told me what company he worked for or what his job really entailed.
“I work in finance.” He gave me the same answer as before, not elaborating.
“But, like, what company? And what does that mean?”
“Clydesdale Software.”
I recognized the company. They were a Fortune 500 company that had been around for a few generations. “Cool. So, you work in the finance department?”
“Pretty much.” He swirled his glass. “Accounting, stocks, financial planning, all that boring stuff.”
“That’s not boring. Where did you go to school?”
“NYU.”
“Cool. You don’t strike me as a financial planner, but I can see it.”
“And what do I strike you as?”
“I don’t know… Marketing?”
“Why?” he asked with a chuckle.
“Because you’re good at selling stuff.”
“When have I ever sold you anything?”
“Uh, you sold me you.” I drank from my wine. “I never thought I would be sitting here right now, on a date with a guy, being vulnerable for the first time since the day I found out my husband was nailing his assistant, a girl who just celebrated her twenty-first birthday.” I slid my glass around on the table.
His smile slowly faded away at my description. “You sold yourself to me long before I sold me to you.”
“I don’t see how. I was standoffish, selfish, cold…”
“Yes, except the selfish part. You’re definitely not a selfish lover.”
My eyes dropped immediately, thinking about all the hot sex we used to have, how we fit together so naturally, how we had such incredible chemistry it was unbelievable.
“And I was smitten the second I heard you tell off that asshole. I’d never met a woman like that. The more I got to know you, the more I saw a beautiful fire that kept me warm. I saw a spunky, confident woman who doesn’t need a man for anything…and that’s really refreshing.”
The compliment cut me deep. “You like independent women?”
He shrugged. “Not until I met you.”
“I guess that means your wife wasn’t that way.”
He shook his head. “Nope. Not even slightly.”
“Damsel in distress type?”
“Yes. But she was also just not a good person. I can tell you are.”
“Really? You don’t know me that well.”
“But I see how passionate you are at uncovering the truth and sharing it with the world. You risk your life for it because it’s so important to you. You have good friends who love you. You’ve been dealt a bad hand in life, but that didn’t stop you from making it on your own. I think you’re an incredible person. That was why I worked so hard just to get a damn date with you.” He smiled, telling me he was teasing me.
It made me smile.
“Oh, and you’re sexy.” He grinned.
“That makes me a good person?” I asked with a laugh.
“No…but it doesn’t hurt.”
When dinner was finished, the tab arrived, and Dax immediately slipped his card inside.
I grabbed my wallet. “Let’s split it.”
He leaned his head back and sighed loudly. “Let’s not do the check dance.”
“Come on. It was expensive.” I grabbed the folder.
He snatched it out of my hand. “No.”
“I thought you liked an independent woman?” I fanned my card.
“Yes. But I also like taking you out.”
“Come on. If we have a second date—”
“If?” he asked. “Come on, you’re totally into me.” He smiled, his beautiful eyes playful.
I couldn’t control the smirk that spread across my face. “The cost of dates adds up.”
“Sweetheart, don’t worry about it.” He put the tab at the edge of the table.
“This is the twenty-first century. Women pay for shit.”
“I’ll let you get something sometime. But not tonight. So put that damn card away.” He lifted the tab and handed it to the waitress.
I gave up and returned my card to my wallet. “Well…thank you.”
He nodded. “You’re welcome, sweetheart.”
I loved the way he called me that, but I wondered if he called other women that, if it was just a nickname he threw around. But I didn’t ask because I didn’t want to offend him. “So, what do you want to do now?”
“You want to get some ice cream?”
I loved ice cream, but I hadn’t expected him to suggest that. “I was thinking sex at your apartment, but we can do that too.”
He leaned farther over the table, his eyes focused on my face. “I like your idea better.”
I grinned. “Got any roommates?”
“I live alone.”
“Ooh…we could have sex on the couch.”
He nodded slowly. “Or the kitchen table.”
“Against the fridge.”
A subtle smile crested his lips. “You’re such a tease.”
“No. We can do all of those things.”
“But I’ve got to get there first…and it’s pretty difficult to walk when you’ve got a hard dick in your slacks.”
“Then let’s duck into an alleyway. That was pretty fun.”
He inhaled a deep breath, his eyes darkening at my words, like I was driving him crazy. “Sweetheart…you really are the perfect woman.”
Seventeen
Carson
He unlocked the door then stepped into his apartment.
It had a decent living room, kitchen, and the hallway made it seem like it had two bedrooms. The place was simple, with couches facing a TV on the wall, but most of it was bare, with no decorations or pictures.
He was a bachelor guy living alone, so it wasn’t that surprising. His wife probably kept everything in the divorce, so he had to start over. “It’s nice.”
“You want something to drink?” He set his wallet and phone on the counter and opened the fridge. “I’ve got beer.”
I looked past his shoulder and saw that his fridge was completely empty. The only thing inside was a six-pack of beer. He didn’t have any groceries? Did he eat out all the time? I didn’t judge him. I was just surprised. He was so fit that I assumed he had a disciplined diet of egg whites and spinach. “Sure.”
He twisted off the cap then came back to me.
I grabbed the bottle and took a drink. “You like living alone?”
“Yeah.” He looked at me as he lifted his beer and took a drink.
“I’d like to live alone someday, but I’ve been with Charlie so long that I think I’d probably hate it.”
“I think he’d hate it too.”
A laugh came from my lips. “He’d love to ditch me. I eat all his food, leave dishes in the sink, come home late—”