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“Cool it, Sweet Stuff,” Dexter says, his blue eyes glinting like knives. “Believe me, he might sound unthreatening, but he’s more dangerous than he looks.”
“Dangerous?” I echo.
“Never mind.” But Dexter just glances around the apartment again, keeping his mouth shut.
“What kind of dangerous? Like do I have to worry about him stalking me home?” I press. “When you say dangerous, do you mean he’s—”
“I just mean he’s clever. A bit of an egomaniac, like most guys with his money and his record. He stomps around for his own amusement. He doesn’t always care who he steps on,” he explains. “Fooling him won’t be as easy as you think. Thank God for the sweets, though. You’re right about them giving us a huge leg up.”
“Oh, ifthat’sall.” I roll my eyes. “We did fool Nana. If we did it once, we can certainly do it again.”
“She wasn’t the person this entire deal hinges on.” He rubs his hands across his face, and for a second I feel sorry for him.
Yes, he’s a giant dick sometimes, but I can almost see the stress piled up on his shoulders.
“Hey,” I say, reaching out and touching his arm. “We’re old hats at this now. I’ve even met your brothers and didn’t die. It’ll be okay.”
“Who the hell else saysold hatsthese days?” A tiny smile pulls at the corner of his mouth.
“Oh my God, Dex. Be serious.”
He pats my hand affectionately, his palm warm and calloused. I wonder what he’s done to make it that way. Maybe it’s all that working out he does, his need to hit things.
Sigh.
And there I go, thinking about him exercising again, working his hard, corded body like a fine-tuned machine.
I need to stop thinking about him sweating, straining, groaning with exertion.
I definitely don’t need more of the image that’s been living rent-free in my head since Nana’s dinner.
“You’re right. We’ll survive. I wish I could say it’s the only worry.” He sighs. “My little brother left me with a family complication.”
“Patton?” I recall the brother he’s talking about—the bright-eyed one with the sharp smile and ruthless charm.
“The one and only,” he snarls.
“What did he do?”
“He told my mother about us.”
What the what?
I chew my lip as I watch about fifty emotions flick across his face. Every shade of frustration and resignation known to humankind surfaces.
God, he doesn’t want this any more than I do.
“Oh. Ouch. Um, so you mean there’s one more person we have to fool?” My stomach twists.
“I know,” he says, glancing up at me with a wry smile. “It’s what I deserve after getting your nana involved. Payback’s always a bitch, but fair’s fair.”
“I never said that.”
“No, but you’d be right if you did.” He heaves out another soul-grinding sigh. “The thing is, just like Jo, my mother will want to meet you. She’s insisting on it.”
That shouldn’t be so scary.
But for some reason, I’m instantly peppered with goosebumps.
