Page 20 of Sweet Dreams
Me: Still up for dinner?
Sunshine: That didn’t take you long. Miss me already?
Me: No. But I need to ask you something. Yay or nay?
Sunshine: Wow. Humble me much. It’s always yes, Dimples. Did you wanna eat out or eat at my place?
Me: Can you cook?
Sunshine: Sure, not well but I haven’t died yet
Me: Hopefully tonight isn’t that night. OK, if you need me to bring anything let me know.
Sunshine: Just your sassy self
Charmer, that’s what he is. Jace always says that a man’s charm is his most effective weapon, and I believe it. Silas has a way of making me forget about my troubles. It’s refreshing until I stop talking to him, and the world floods back to reality. And that is not a good thing.
I feel terrible showing up empty handed. I should’ve grabbed a six-pack but what if Silas doesn’t drink? Maybe I don’t know him as well as I think I do. I'm standing outside his door, debating whether this is right. Perhaps I should've just asked Dad instead.
As I knock, the door swings open, and Silas stands in front of me in his dark-washed jeans, a black Henley long-sleeved shirt, and his dark hair looking tousled without his hat on.
“Dimples. I was getting worried you were gonna walk that little fanny of yours back to your place with all that thinking you were doing.”
I roll my eyes and smile. “Shut it. I was wondering how I was going to kick your ass if you tried anything.”
He nods. “Sure you were.Come on in before we freeze to death.” He moves away from the door and guides me in.
“It’s not even cold out here. Don’t be such a priss.”
“I am a delicate fucking flower, if you haven’t noticed.”
I step inside his house, and I’m shocked. It’s clean for a bachelor living alone. He rests his hands on my shoulder, guiding me to his kitchen.
“I’ve noticed. Are you hiding a maid in this place?”
He pulls a chair out for me and pushes me down. “No. I know how to clean, and the place doesn't get dirty with only one person living here. Drink?” He gazes down at me with an intensity that's hard to resist. It's tempting to close my eyes as I inhale his earthy scent, but I must stay strong. His playful smirk gives away that he's fully aware of the effect he has on me.
I push back in my seat, trying to clear my head. “Whatever you're having.” I watch him move about his kitchen, grabbing two glasses from the cupboard. He peeks over his shoulder and then gets back to work. I have no idea what I asked for, but hopefully, it doesn’t kill me.
He places a glass of clear liquid in front of me and laughs. “You asked for what I’m drinking.”
“What thefuck is it?”
“Vodka.”
“Um, can I have some pop or something to mix with mine?” He winks at me and opens the fridge. “My stomach would retaliate, and we would have a problem if I drank that straight.”
“Don’t apologize, Dimples. I’ll never force you to drink something you can’t handle.” He pours orange juice into my glass. “I might force you in other areas, though.”
Nope, the brain cannot go there. Dinner and talk about the shop. That was the whole point of coming here.
“What’s for dinner? I would like to know what my last meal is.”
“Don’t be dramatic. You aren’t gonna die. I made the easiest thing ever. Tacos.”
I’d say the most uncomplicated meal. At least I know it’s safe. It’s the thought that counts; he could’ve told me no, and I desperately need his input. He’s the only outsider I know; he hasn’t been jaded by Nancy yet.
“Alright, spill. You asked for this night, so what’s on your mind?” Silas asks before shoving half his taco into his mouth.