Tinsel (Lark Cove #4)(47)

But it hadn’t been the first time I’d been on the receiving end of disgusted frowns and harsh glares. I’d weathered them with a well-practiced smile then gone to the waiting room, where I’d caught up on social media.

My so-called friends had been busy over the last week, sharing the magazine’s article on every platform possible. When Dakota had pulled that stunt with Petah, I’d already been irritated. His play had sent me over the edge.

Years ago I would have volunteered to help Dakota send a message to his ex-girlfriend. Games and tricks had been my forte. But those days were over, and I was done being used by people.

I felt awful for Petah. And Dakota too. He was a good man. I believed his actions had been spur-of-the-moment and made with her best interests at heart.

But I’d felt her pain in that hallway. She was in love with him, and he’d slashed those feelings apart.

On the drive home, I hadn’t had the courage to ask him about their relationship and why they hadn’t worked. I’d been too busy dealing with some insecurities on the trip. Petah was beautiful, stunningly so, with a face that photographers like Malcom would salivate over. And she was from the right heritage. If she wasn’t his one, who was? Who would eventually win Dakota’s heart?

It wasn’t me. We were just a casual and fun affair.

I’d been reminding myself of that ever since he’d pulled out of the hospital’s parking lot.

I was not getting into a relationship, a long-distance one at that. Despite my growing feelings for Dakota, despite the fact that he’d slipped past my flimsy barriers faster than any man in the past, I was not getting into another relationship.

The trip had been a good reminder.

It had been interesting to see where Dakota had grown up. The town itself had been more rundown than I’d imagined. I’d never visited a reservation before, but according to Dakota, his was one of the poorest in the country. Over half of the buildings and homes along the highway were falling apart. Broken down and beat-up cars crowded driveways. More than a few businesses had boarded up doors spray painted with CLOSED on the face.

The neighborhoods had gotten nicer as we’d driven off the main highway and into town. The hospital itself was nice though small, and the homes in the surrounding area reminded me of Dakota’s Lark Cove neighborhood.

But there were no wealthy parts of town. There were no booming businesses. It made sense why he’d left to find a better-paying job.

And why he’d chosen to invest in properties here, where he could charge a higher rent.

Dakota finished shoveling and came back to the truck, stowing the shovel before opening my door. The icy air blasted me in the face.

“Will you reach over and shut it off?”

“Got it.” I leaned across the console, turning the keys and taking them out of the ignition. Then I plopped them into his gloved hand.

As I hopped out, he opened the back door to start loading up grocery bags. We’d filled seven at the store this morning. Dakota handed me three and kept the others for himself along with a case of Mountain Dew.

With our arms loaded, we walked up the narrow path to the front door. We didn’t need to knock before the door swung open and an elderly man waved us straight inside.

“Arthur.” Dakota clapped the shorter, elderly man on the shoulder. “Good to see you. I’ve got a guest with me today. Meet Sofia.”

“Hello.”

He smiled, tilting his black-rimmed sunglasses toward me. “Welcome.”

I stepped inside as Dakota elbowed the door closed. Then I followed him past the living room off the front door and into the square kitchen at the rear of the house.

As I put the grocery bags on the counter, I inspected the place. The interior had been painted a soft white, and the cabinets in the kitchen were deep gray. Dakota had an eye for clean lines with a farmhouse style, something that went perfectly in a place like this. My interior designer heart loved him for his taste.

I thought we’d just leave the groceries, but Dakota began to unpack, quickly putting things in their place. He’d clearly done this many times before.

“Thank you both.” Arthur stood at the entrance to the kitchen. “Can you sit and visit for a minute?”

“We’d love to. You guys sit. I’ll be right in.”

I followed Arthur to the living room, my tennis shoes sinking into the shag carpet as I walked to the couch.

Arthur went right for his recliner in the corner, sitting down and shifting until he was comfortable.

Dakota didn’t waste any time in the kitchen. I was just settling into the seat when he came in and sank down next to me.

“Thanks for shoveling the walk,” Arthur told him. “I couldn’t keep up with the snow last week.”

“Sorry I didn’t get up sooner to take care of it for you.”

“You’re busy. Don’t worry about me.” Arthur relaxed in his chair. He was a small man, about as tall as my five foot six. He wore a plaid shirt and loose, brown polyester slacks with black suspenders holding them up.

His hair had long since fallen out and his bald scalp was dotted with freckles. I’d expected now that we were inside, he’d lose the sunglasses. But he kept them on, maybe because the room was so bright due to the picture window between us.

“So what’s new?” Dakota asked him, relaxing deeper into the couch and tossing an arm around the back.