The Redemption(38)

Turning back around, I say, “Dex—”

“I never told you this before, but as much as I loved him…” He pauses and gulps, his Adam’s apple bobbing twice in his throat.

I cut him off this time. “Don’t say it, okay?”

We stare into each other’s eyes, holding the moment a few seconds longer. Pulling his sunglasses back down over his eyes, he gives a small nod before sitting back and looking out over the yard. From his profile, I can see his mood shift through his expression. He stands suddenly, grabbing his glass and going inside.

Following him in, I say, “I’m sorry. It just feels too personal—”

Anger covers his words. “It is f*cking personal. It’s personal to me. You go back and forth between square one and practically having sex with me in the hot tub the other night. Maybe I’m unclear as to what the f*ck is going on between us, but I know how I feel. So I guess you need to figure your shit out and let me know so this doesn’t end up messier than it needs to be.”

“Shit? It’s not shit, Dex. It’s my life. I don’t have to explain this to you. I owe you nothing.”

When I turn to leave, he says to my backside, “Go ahead. Leave. It’s safer that way, much like wearing your underwear in a hot tub.”

“You’re an ass, Dex.”

His comeback is swift and tinged with arrogance. “A sexy one if I interpreted the way you stared at me the other night correctly.”

I give my best pointed look. “You can interpret my stares however you like, but that doesn’t change the fact that I think there’s more truth to the tabloid tales than you like to admit.”

“Really, Rochelle? We’re going there? Because how I see it, we can skirt the issue all we want but somehow we keep ending up…” He steps closer and I stay strong, unwavering as his hands grab my hips and our mouths are only separated by our height difference. In a whisper, he says, “Right. Back. Here.” His lips press against mine, and my eyelids close as my mouth meets his in the middle.

“You’re right,” I say as my heels touch the ground again, my anger subsiding. Every time. Every time, he proves over and over how weak I am to him. I give in feeding his ego and say, “Fine. I like you.” I add a shrug to make it come off more casual, but he sees right through me.

A huge, obnoxiously cocky grin appears. “What? Rochelle Floros, did you just say you like me? I think I just kissed the pissiness right out of you.”

His teasing and the poke to my side makes me roll my eyes and smile. “Yeah, don’t hold it against me. I’m weak to a good kiss.”

Swiveling my hips against his, he raises an eyebrow and says, “It won’t be your like for me that I hold against you. Trust me on that.”

I swat his chest. “You are so bad.”

Leaning down, he kisses my neck, then whispers in my ear, “Which is what you ‘like’ so much about me.”

“Mama, I fell down.” Surprised by CJ, I turn just as he tugs the bottom of my shirt. “I need Band-aid.”

Dex bends down and picks him up. “I got one, buddy.”

“It hwerts,” CJ replies, then pouts his bottom lip out.

Dex sets him on the counter and pulls out a first aid kit from the cabinet. “Show me the damage,” Dex says.

I lean against the counter and watch, fascinated to see how this goes. CJ points to a small pinkish scrap on his left knee. There’s no blood, but Dex treats it like a medical emergency, all for show, for CJ. “Oh man, I think we’ll be able to save the leg, but we definitely need a Band-Aid on the situation. Let’s get you all fixed up.”

And there goes my heart, melting for the sweetness of this man. First he cleans the boo-boo, then he puts antibiotic ointment on, topped with a big Band-aid. “Better?”

“Mama kisses it. Makes it heal faster.”

I smile hearing my youngest say that, but it works. Dex bends down and kisses the bandage. “You think you’ll be able to run like that?”

CJ smiles and nods. Then he melts my heart by leaning forward and hugging Dex. I see the surprise on Dex’s face, but he takes my son and hugs him back, his expression one of appreciation. My heart blooms with emotion in the moment. CJ turns to me when they part and says, “Do we have time to play?”

“Ten more minutes, then we need to go. Okay?”

I watch as he runs off yelling to Neil how they scored ten more minutes.

Dex asks, “Only ten?”

“I need to get them to bed on time tonight. They start day camp tomorrow.”

While cleaning up the medical mess, he asks, “What about you?”

“I have two meetings tomorrow. Proposals for a tour next year. The events team wants to do something different.”

He turns, his eyes narrowed with irritation. “Next year? We don’t even know if we’ll tour next year. Damn, we leave to finish this tour off in two days.”

“Tours take a lot of time to plan. It’s good to hear the ideas. Doesn’t mean the band is doing it.”

With a heavy sigh, he puts the kit away, then looks at me. “So I’m leaving. Eight shows left.”

The topic of him leaving is not one I like to think about right now, but I try to convince myself otherwise. “Only eight shows. It’ll be okay.”