Dex nodded slowly, his eyes still down on his plate. "I know, babe. Trust me. I know. If my pa cared about anybody else half as much as he cared about himself, then all of our lives could’ve been a lot easier. Ma knows that but she kept holdin' on to those dumbass beliefs." He snorted. "And she doesn't even go to fuckin' church unless it's Easter or Christmas. It's stupid as shit."

I wasn't going to disagree with him.

"I used to think that if my mom would've gotten over my dad maybe she would've... I don't know. I always just thought that her being hung-up on him made her even sicker. But I'm glad your mom is at least doing something about it."

His face softened just a bit and he sighed. "Me too, babe. Pa's losin' his mind but he doesn't fuckin' get it. He's never gonna get it."

Another moron member of the Widowmakers. Go figure. Maybe it was just something with the older members?

I poked Dex in the hard muscle of his thigh. "Let me know if there's anything I can do for her. I can screen her phone calls if she wants." I smiled at him.

He snorted. "And hang up on my pa? I'd be all about that, honey."

I poked him again but this time he caught my finger in his fist. "I’m sure you would.”

He grinned. "Don't think anybody's ever hung up on him before but me."

"And you? Has anyone ever hung up on you?" I asked.

"Nope," Dex answered a little too proudly.

"There's always a first for everything."

When his grin grew a little too wide, a hint of lewdness crossing his eyes, I realized the interpretation he chose to pick up on my words and groaned.

"I know all about that, babe."

I made a face. "Shut up."

His laugh was louder than the movie playing on the television, and way more entertaining. "You gonna sleep with me tonight?"

The thought both scared and excited me, but it probably scared me more. "I don't know." I paused. "I talked to Sonny earlier and he wasn't exactly happy or mad when I told him that I...uhh...you know."

The jerk raised both his eyebrows. "No clue. What?" he egged on.

I rolled my eyes. “Are you ignoring his calls, too?"

Dex shrugged. "I don't need to talk to him to know what he's gonna say. I don't really give a shit what he wants."

That wasn't exactly surprising and it wasn't the first time he'd said the same thing.

"We'll deal with it when he gets back," he said. "You gonna sleep in my bed?"

Relentless. The man was relentless. That weird mix of excitement and fear flooded my stomach again. "I don't know. I kind of feel like I'm in over my head with you. Like I just learned how to swim and you want me to compete in the Olympics, and I don't want to disappoint you. Does that make sense?"

That handsome face turned serious. "Ritz, I might know what I'm doin' with you when you're in my bed or my office—"

Oh god. The mental picture of him with someone else in his friggin' office made my heart constrict. At the same time I had the urge to gag.

"But the rest of this is completely fuckin' new to me. I don't wanna run you off," he admitted.

I sighed and nodded, but there was something about his words that really stuck for the first time. "Why don't you know what you're doing? I figured you," my heart did that stupid clenching thing again, "get around. And you don't exactly seem like the long-term relationship kind of guy." I wanted to puke at the end of each of my sentences and by some miracle, I didn't.  "You're kind of old, Dex. It doesn't make sense."

"Old?" he coughed. I swear it seemed like his eyebrows managed to climb all the way up to his hairline in indignation.

I shrugged.

"I'm not old."

Oh boy. Of all the things for him to get hung up on, he got held up by the mention of his age. "Okay, you're not old. You're a spring chicken, whatever. The point is, why don't you have a girlfriend?" After the conversation we'd just had, wondering about a wife would seem preposterous.

He blinked. It took him so long to answer I thought he'd just ignore the question. He braced a hand on my knee, his skin hot. "I haven't exactly been lonely, honey."

I'd gotten stabbed. Stabbed by an invisible blade. I'm sure I made a noise that said just that. How immature was that? How pathetic?

The hand on my knee tightened, and I suddenly had the urge to whack it away. "Well. It's not like I didn't know that." But the verbal confirmation wasn't easy to swallow.

"Baby," he purred. "I could ask you the same thing.”

I shrugged. “I didn’t have time.”

He didn’t believe me. “Bullshit.”

“I didn’t.” And I didn’t care. In the last fourteen years, I’d only had a brief six month period when I didn’t have something or someone to worry about. It was fourteen years that I was grateful for, but… a break would have been nice. The one and only post-high school boyfriend I had consisted of a handful of last minute dates over the course of a few months. It wasn’t a surprise it didn’t work out between us.

“Keep tellin’ yourself that but you know that I know the truth. We’re the same, we’re both closed off. I only give a shit about very few things, and you don’t let anybody in because you’re scared. I have shit to do, honey. Why would I wanna waste more than a couple hours of my time?”

It annoyed the living crap out of me that I wanted to argue that point with him but I couldn’t. Deep down, he had a point. But I wasn’t about to acknowledge it or how he wasted hours of his time. Gag, gag, gag. I grit my teeth instead.  “I get it, Dex, the point is, I don’t get why me. We’re like oil and water.”

He made a tisking sound with his tongue. “You haven't been payin' any attention, have you?"

I groaned my response, earning a low chuckle.

He set the bowl in his hands aside and shifted over to drop a knee between my legs, straddling my thigh. Dex plucked the bowl from my hands and set it alongside his. He loomed over me, his gaze and face intent, taking my hand and placing it on his chest. "You gotta open those pretty eyes, baby. You're the only one here." He slipped his hand down the center of my chest, straight down to cup the zipper of my jeans. "And I’m sure your romance books will tell you exactly how I feel about me bein’ here.”

I'm pretty sure I wheezed.

"You understand me?" he purred.

The only thing I understood was that I was on the verge of having a heart attack.

His mouth touched the side of my neck. "Iris? You understand what I'm sayin'?"

No. No, I didn't. Not in any way.

Dex's teeth nipped at the same spot he'd kissed a moment before, making me gasp. "Iris."

I nodded, shaky and quickly. "Yeah, I hear you."

He hummed. "But do you understand?" Ohmigod. I could feel that hum all the way to my underwear. "You get it?"

I had to shake my head because the words wouldn’t come.

His nostrils flared. “First time in my life, I think I hate the fact you knew how to suck my dick,” he breathed. “Got this urge to kill whatever guy taught you how to give a blowjob. The fuckin’ idea of you kissin’ somebody else makes me wanna dig a knife into my eye. Let me tell you, babe, never in my life have a given a single fuck about any of that. You get it?” His palm pressed into my jeans harder. Then he laid the atomic bomb on my very existence. "You are not a waste of time to me."

Holy shit. Holy friggin' shit.

"Say it," he murmured into my neck.

“Say what?”