Chapter Five
Matt frowned the next evening, his attention presumably on the television in front of him but more accurately glued in the general direction of the hallway. Lexi had left the bathroom nearly an hour ago, a plume of berry-something scented heat billowing in his direction as she disappeared the opposite way into the guest room. The snick of the lock echoed, weirdly timed to a momentary silence between commercials, and he frowned. Lexi was going out with an internet stranger to a bar on dollar beer night and she locked the door on him?
The doorbell rang. He glanced at his cell. He’d arranged a date of his own, and while he’d be loath to admit it to Lexi, he had no problem acknowledging to himself that its entire purpose was to give him a reason to keep an eye on her. Lexi wasn’t stupid or reckless, and she could definitely hold her own in most circumstances, but this random stranger dating thing left his stomach in knots. Maybe he’d luck out and know the guy, or at least know of him, and there wouldn’t be an issue, but for now he was swimming in issues. And if that meant sucking down dollar beers while his date downed eight-dollar watered-down cocktails, he was good with that. At any rate, he didn’t expect his date for another thirty minutes, so this must be Lexi’s guy. The thought left a bad taste in his mouth.
He opened the door anyway.
His date, Carla, stood there in a mini electric-blue dress, every curve on display. “You’re early,” he said, surprised.
“You’ve never invited me to your house before,” she said with a toss of her dark, glossy hair. “I thought we might be starting with dessert.”
Matt groaned inwardly. He liked her, and he couldn’t exactly blame her for the conclusion, but she had it completely wrong. He’d asked her to meet him here because he didn’t want to somehow miss meeting Lexi’s date. Matt was genuinely surprised she hadn’t had the guy pick her up at her own house, but he figured she knew that wouldn’t stop him. Matt would either meet her date or be the weird guy staring from the property line, and this version was probably going to be easier to explain. “Actually,” he told Carla, “we aren’t alone.”
Carla’s lips pursed. “Oh?”
The doorbell rang again. Rather than answer Carla, Matt reached for the door, expecting Lexi to come barging into the room at any minute. However futile other plans might have been, he still couldn’t quite believe she hadn’t breezed past him an hour ago just to avoid Matt laying eyes on Mr. Right Enough.
Matt swung open the door, revealing a decidedly normal looking guy on the other side. Dark hair, decent tan, looked like he worked out. “Hi,” the man said, extending his hand. “You must be Matt. I’m Dave.”
Matt accepted the proffered hand, grudgingly admitting to himself that the guy had a decent grip. He didn’t try to crush him, so no posturing. And Lexi had already told him about Matt? And not in a way that had Dave the least bit apprehensive, which meant she had managed to convince at least one person in Dry Rock that their friend zone not only existed, but ran deeper than the Kawuneeche—at least if body language meant anything, as this guy was completely unconcerned. Matt suddenly remembered his own guest, and with Dave looking expectantly at him, said, “Lexi will be out in a minute. This is a friend of mine, Carla. Carla, Dave.”
Dave managed to greet Carla without gawking at the way she was poured into that dress. Matt’s grudging respect for the man kicked up a few notches, but his inability to hate the guy was getting on his nerves. He didn’t want Lexi going out with a caveman, serial murderer or not, but in the half a minute since he’d met Dave, the idea that she might actually end up liking this guy certainly didn’t help Matt’s chances of liking him. In that split second, all he could see was her laughing, her silky blond waves sliding across her shoulders and falling carelessly when she brushed them back with manicured fingertips. And in his little vision, unlike the countless times that scenario had played out in real life, she wasn’t looking at him.
In no one’s world was Matt jealous or possessive, but in that moment, one thought threatened to knock him on his butt.
In the most ordinary of ways, Lexi was his.
He knew why she hadn’t told him about this dating thing. Somehow she’d known he wasn’t ready to share her. He wasn’t ready to lose her, and he sure as hell wasn’t ready to come to terms with that. And while he was undeniably getting ahead of himself, their usual movie night with this dude planted on the sofa between him and Lexi wasn’t going to happen. He felt the calculated loss with an actual physical ache in his chest, and he vowed right then and there that he didn’t care how mad Lexi got—he wasn’t going to let anyone hurt her.
Then Lexi walked into the room, and whatever small talk Dave and Carla had going on ceased, and with it, Matt’s plan to make sure the guy didn’t gawk at anything lower than Lexi’s face.
Hell, Matt was gawking.
Lexi wasn’t poured into a dress. She wasn’t on display. In fact, she had on a pair of faded blue jeans he knew for a fact were worn to softness. Visually, he traced the threads that lined the hole just above her left knee, knowing they were a road map to a tickle spot that made her eyes shine and her laughter dance. He didn’t recognize the tee she wore with it, but the cornflower blue was the exact same shade as her irises and rested so casually against her curves that he had to swallow to keep the drool off his chin. But none of that grabbed him like the light that seemed to emanate from her. She was like a kid at Christmas, and it was for someone else…someone else he couldn’t even bring himself to hate. Yet.
“You must be Lexi,” Dave said. “It’s great to finally meet you.”
Finally? She’d just joined the site a week ago. How quickly had this guy latched on? Within a second, if he had half a brain.
“You, too,” she said. She glanced at Matt. “I hope he wasn’t—”
“I wasn’t,” Matt said. He felt sick. Absolutely sick.
“Matt and I are old friends,” Lexi explained to Dave. “I actually live next door, but I’m staying with him while my kitchen is being renovated.”
That little proclamation got Carla’s attention. “You’re staying here?” she asked Lexi.
Lexi gave the other woman a saccharine look of compassion. “Oh, I’m sorry, is there a problem?”
“No,” Matt answered. “So, Dave, you must really like beer.”
Dave’s expression quirked between amusement and humor, landing somewhere in between. “I don’t hate it,” he said. “Why?”
“Well, dollar beer—”
Lexi hushed him by grabbing his throat, in the most literal sense. “Your buttons are undone,” she said, fussing with the ones way up at the top that Matt never fastened. When Lexi’s fingers grazed his neck, tugging at the uppermost button, he became painfully aware of the rest of her, the heat of her so close, the softness of her skin, the countless times he’d rested his head against her while they’d binged the kind of crap he couldn’t care less to see. His pulse shot up and he wasn’t sure if it was her proximity or the not-so-idle threat in her actions. She knew he hated anything fitting that snugly around his throat.
“I just want to make sure you get home safely,” he said, almost choking over the words when she snapped his collar shut, nonetheless managing to shoot a pointed, likely feral look at Dave.
She glanced at Carla and winked before saying, “Okay, Dad. Aren’t you supposed to be getting ready for a date?” She brushed back his hair, leaving a trail of awareness everywhere she’d touched.
“I am ready,” he grumbled under his breath, a quiet warning that Lexi ignored.
Instead, she tugged once more on the shirt that now felt like a vise around his neck and said, “There. Totally hot.”
Matt blinked. She thought he was hot? A thousand times he’d strutted around shirtless in front of her trying to get any kind of reaction and it happens now? When she has a date? When he has Carla, shooting daggers between him and Lexi?
He tried to kick back the feelings that seemed to steal air from the room. They meant nothing. He cared way too much about Lexi to screw up things between them over what could only be a misplaced bout of jealousy, no matter how hot his skin burned. Still, he said his goodbyes perhaps a bit too brightly, earning an odd look from Lexi, but the moment passed. Or he could only assume it did for her, because in the end Carla breezily told him she was grabbing a drink from the fridge and so it was just him, watching Lexi walk away, her attention on another man, everything about her vividly radiant and sexy and happy.
He couldn’t stop staring.
She never looked back.
…
Lexi hadn’t been the least bit amused about having the dollar beer night revelation dumped on her, but she wanted to give Dave the benefit of the doubt. That determination had waned a bit when she’d walked through the door to find the place dark, crowded, and a bit stale, but several of the folks in the crowd called out to Dave and he greeted them all with smiles. She found the camaraderie relaxing, and that he didn’t drag her to a dozen tables to make awkward small talk impressed her. So far Dave was up one, and she was surprised upon further investigation to glimpse a few guys she recognized from the fire department, which officially made the place kind of great.
Even if it smelled like old beer.
And Dave, who’d had the good sense not to show up in uniform, was animated, easy on the eyes, and hadn’t let the conversation lull once.
So why wasn’t she seeing hearts?
It had to be her own inexperience. She hadn’t tried to get out there for so long that her body didn’t know how to react. No point in getting her hopes up for a visceral reaction when she couldn’t remember the last time she’d followed through on the consequences of an attraction.
Never mind that her entire body still thrummed from a paltry attempt at ignoring one. Her poorly executed plot for shutting down Matt back at his house left her mouth dry and her knees weak. They’d physically been closer than that more times than she could count, but there was something in the absolute intensity of his eyes and the way they searched hers. She didn’t know what he sought, but for one inexplicable moment, she hoped he’d find it, and that had scared the hell out of her.
Still, breaking that eye contact had been one of the hardest things she’d ever done. It felt too much like walking away, like things really were changing between them, which meant she was long overdue for a date. A real one. Matt, takeout, and a sofa didn’t count.
Fortunately, Dave seemed to qualify and then some. Everything thus far about him seemed great—with the possible exception of his choice of venue—so it was extremely irritating that she wasn’t feeling more than the makings of a solid friendship.
Freaking Matt.
She hadn’t been there thirty minutes when she noticed him sitting at the bar next to Carla, who had been polite enough but clearly none too pleased about Lexi being in Matt’s house. Lexi didn’t normally pay much attention to Matt and his choice of companions, but she’d also not found herself standing between the two of them. For a split second she’d admired Carla’s confidence—Lexi wasn’t sure she could face a mirror in an outfit like that, let alone the public—but mostly she felt kind of hot and achy. And, though he had to have been the one who’d set up such a convenient meeting, guilty for interfering with his date. At least until she noticed him in the bar being a hypocrite, because had he not just criticized Dave for taking Lexi to the very same place?
“So,” Dave said, drawing her attention back his way, only to realize he wasn’t even looking at her. Instead, he had his focus glued to what Lexi assumed was supposed to be a stage at the far end of the room where a young woman laughed hysterically, clinging to a man in shredded jeans and a leather jacket. Dave’s eyes narrowed as the other man slipped a cigarette in his mouth. “I wish he’d light that,” he said, apparently forgetting whatever he’d been about to say.
Lexi didn’t. “I thought there was a smoking ban indoors.”
“There is,” Dave said. “But then I’d have an excuse to haul him out of here.”
“Oh…kay.” She glanced from Dave to Matt and back. Had someone slipped testosterone in the tap water?
David twisted the cap off one of the two bottles of water he’d brought to the table—a tidbit Lexi planned to keep to herself. This guy was cheaper than dollar beer night…he was ninety-nine cent bottled water. He had offered to buy Lexi a cocktail but she didn’t drink often and didn’t want to inadvertently overindulge, so she’d gladly accepted the water. She hoped Matt wouldn’t notice. Yeah, right.
“I’m sorry,” Dave said, finally tearing his attention away from the mystery woman at the other end of the room. He lifted the bottle, pointing it slightly toward the other couple. “That’s my sister. She just turned twenty-one about five minutes ago, and she insists on hanging out here with that guy. He’s been picked up a half dozen times for misdemeanors but she thinks he walks on water.” Dave laughed humorlessly. “She also thinks he’s in the band, but I’ve yet to see him pick up an instrument.”
“So is that why you chose this place tonight?” Lexi asked, suddenly relieved.
He gave a bit of a guilty smile. “Yes. I’m sorry… I should have explained, but I didn’t quite know how to explain that I was babysitting a grown woman.”
Lexi’s gaze slid to Matt, who still sat with his back to her. “Trust me, I get it,” she said. “And by the way, your sister is slipping out the back.”
Dave gave a sharp look in her direction and mumbled a curse under his breath. “Do you mind if I see what they’re up to?”
“Not at all. If you need to go, I’ll be fine.”
He paused. “Really? I can call you?”
“Absolutely,” she said, throwing a little extra sun in her smile in case Matt was watching. Not that there was anything disingenuous about it. Despite the lack of flying sparks, she actually liked Dave, especially now that she knew why he’d wanted to meet there to drink water.
Unsure how long she’d be alone, Lexi leaned back in her chair and took in the aged, woodsy decor. The place was part wild west, part wannabe biker bar, though she doubted it saw many patrons who fit the latter. Despite being smoke-free for over a decade, the stale odor lingered in the unfinished wood, seeming to flare up whenever anyone walked past.
She was staring at a knot on a floorboard when the chair across from her scraped. She expected Dave, or maybe Matt, but not the unfamiliar face that greeted her.
“Um, hi?” she said after a moment of being stared at by…a kid? Lexi hadn’t yet hit thirty—she was hardly in cougar territory—but she’d be surprised if this guy hadn’t gotten in on a fake ID, and that made her feel a bit icky.
“Do you play Fortnite?” he asked by way of greeting. He had the faintest shadow of facial hair, so sparse and fine that Lexi had the feeling it had never seen a razor. Dark hair fell in his eyes, making it difficult for her to tell if he was kidding or actually expected an answer.
Either way, Lexi didn’t have a clue what Fortnite was. “Is that a movie or something?” she asked. “Because if you’re trying to hit me up for cosplay—”
“No, no.” The guy, who was dressed in black from his horn-rimmed glasses to his boots, vigorously shook his head. “Nothing like that. It’s a video game. Just looking for someone to chat with.”
“Well, we’d have to talk about something else,” Lexi said. “I’m not a gamer.”
“Maybe you just haven’t met the right game,” he said, blushing bright red over what she now assumed was a clumsy attempt at flirtation.
“That much is definitely true,” she conceded. Inside, she died a little. She didn’t have the slightest interest in video games. He’d started trying to explain them before the last word had left her lips, and he might have been speaking another language. He’d lost her in less than thirty seconds, and it di
dn’t help that all she could think of was the time one of her friends commented that her husband wouldn’t put the game controller down long enough to hold their crying infant.
“So what do you do for a living?” she finally asked, hating to interrupt, but she was zoning out and didn’t want to hurt his feelings. She had a strong feeling he was more interested in a sounding board than a companion, and at this point, she didn’t care to be either, but she cared more about not being rude, and she couldn’t bring herself to shut him down entirely.
He managed to take a breath. He was kind of cute, she thought, with his mouth shut. His dark hair fell in his eyes and he did have that sad scruff thing happening—not something she was used to, working with firemen. “Actually,” he said, “I’m a designer.”
She took in a graphic tee with an unfamiliar logo that probably advertised a video game and mentally paired that with the unremarkable jeans she remembered he wore. Dubious, she asked, “A fashion designer?”
He waved an arm with such enthusiasm that his hair fell to completely cover his face. Pushing it out of the way, he said, “No, a game designer.”
“Oh.” Of course. Of freaking course. “There’s a place to do that here in Dry Rock?”
“Yes.” He threw back a drink, draining half the glass in one swallow. “Well, actually you do it on a computer.”
No kidding. But at least the dots connected. “Is that one of your games you’ve been talking about?” He’d switched from Fortnite, which she’d managed to stealthily google on the phone she’d kept tucked under the table, to something that didn’t seem to have any marketing behind it. Dry Earth. The top results were stock images, geology, and a paint color.
He sat back, fidgeting in his seat, for the first time looking uncomfortable. “My, uh? Well, I own it, but I didn’t design it. That’s actually one of the top-selling—”
“Your work,” Lexi said. “What have you worked on?” She hadn’t meant to ding his pride, but she wasn’t here for a dissertation on the gaming industry. The only games she ever played were on her phone. She and Caitlin had a killer rivalry going on a crossword app, but beyond that, she remained apathetic, at best, toward the whole industry. This dude…this was his life. She tried to appreciate that he’d decided to approach her—she wouldn’t have been so brave about sitting with a stranger, so she had to give him credit there—but she didn’t want to inadvertently lead him on. Ugh. She’d been toe deep in the dating pool for mere hours and already found herself more apt to sink than swim.
Finding Mr. Right Next Door (Firefighters of Station 1) Page 4
