Page 54 of The Right Sign
“Relax. I got this.”I try to communicate in return.
He nods as if he heard my thoughts and then falls into the chair beside me, an arm over the back of it. His calm acceptance stuns me. I thought he’d be gripping me to his side to still my hands or changing the subject desperately. I’d thought he’d try to control me, bark at me, act entitled to my thoughts and actions. Instead, he seems to… I don’t know… trust me.
Who exactly is this man?
Putting that thought away for later, I focus on Lucy. She tilts her chin up, an eyebrow arched. Her forehead shows no signs that it’s made a movement. It’s almost unnatural the way she doesn’t wrinkle at all.
Focus.
What have I observed of Richard Sullivan that can convince this woman I know him intimately? It’s not like I’ve seen Richard without his clothes off to check for hidden tattoos.
If only we’d spent that ‘get to know you’ time in the car naked.
My body flushes with heat, my mind flooding with unbidden images of him whipping his shirt off and dragging me into his lap in the backseat.
Whoa!
I shift in discomfort and face Sullivan again. He welcomes my perusal, examining me back with obvious interest. The way he looks at me, it really doesn’t seem like we met for the first time last night.
What are you hiding, Sullivan?
It’s annoying that he’s so attractive. His laugh lines, though faint, add a touch of worldly wisdom to his hewn features. There’s not a strand of grey in his hair. Does he dye it? I get the feeling he wouldn’t.
A small dot on his ear catches my attention.
Lightbulb.
I sign, “To be frank, I could tell you more…privatethings about Dare—” I make sure my expression is like a purr, “but that feels inappropriate. Given the audience.” Smiling coquettishly, I stroke my hand over Dare’s chest, getting into character.
He captures my hand and then releases it after a squeeze. I sense that he would have held on if I didn’t use my hands to speak.
Lucy gets red after my interpreter voices for me. Her mouth opens and then snaps shut.
Batting my eyelashes, I sign, “So instead of giving you the dirty details, I’ll tell you an embarrassing secret about Dare’s childhood. Something Dare doesn’t share with many people. Not even his closest friends.”
Dare tilts his head, amused.
Mosely is chomping on a pen like it’s a candy bar.
“Dare…” I finger spell and pause for the interpreter to voice so I can draw out the suspense, “used to…” I wait again, “be an emo kid.”
There.
It’s done.
Dare’s expression turns proud.
Lucy speaks.
“How did you know about that?” Jenny signs. “It’s not in any online articles.”
I shrug, trying not to look as smug as I feel.
“Oh, Dare. Do you remember?” Jenny’s hands move in time with Lucy’s rambling. “Back then, you cut your hair without mom and dad’s permission. They werelivid.”
Lucy’s joy at the memory is kind of cute.
Kind of.