Chapter 66: Speechless
- RAYA -
"Did you get a haircut?" I ask now that the rest of my tears have been dried and there’s no more waiting to spill over.
Dex rubs a hand over his face. "Yeah, it was getting a little longer than I’m comfortable with."
His beard is slightly red compared to the rest of his hair. I imagine he’s a good mix of genetics from both of his parents. Mr. Jansen has very fair complexion like his first son. Dex is darker with the dark brown hair and eyes. There are lighter strands throughout, which has honestly made me wonder if he gets his hair professionally colored, but I seriously doubt it. That doesn’t seem like his style. It’s more likely that he’s been outside a lot and the sun has naturally created the play of color.
He doesn’t wear cologne like Lawson either. When I was tucked under his arm, he smelled kind of wild and natural—like clothes after they’ve been dried by the sun. Or like someone who spends a lot of time outdoors. While I’m sure that was the case before he moved home, I don’t know how he could continue to smell that way.
Maybe Dex sleeps outside under the stars. For some reason, I could definitely see him doing that—even with a large, luxurious home like this one. I bet he would prefer camping outside.
"Does it look better?" He smiles—that crooked devastating smile again that makes my heart want to stop.
"It looked good, and it still looks good," I say honestly, positive that my cheeks will never go back to being a normal color again after this night.
"I like what you’ve done with your hair, too," he says, arranging the strands that are disrupted by stitches.
"Thank you, it’s part of that new hospitalcore trend I was telling you about. The stitches are dissolvable, so you never even have to take them out."
He chuckles, and it’s seriously the best sound. And I have to stop staring at him, because eventually I’m going to creep him out. But he doesn’t seem to mind for now.
"But no more gown," he observes, gesturing to my clothes.
"Yeah. It was a little too revealing. And drafty." I say. "And only available in one color, so I have to switch it up. Maybe I’ll try holey shirts next."
"I may have some you can borrow," he smiles.
"They probably won’t look quite as good on me."
"I don’t know." His head tilts, eyebrows arching like he’s imagining it. And there my cheeks go—instant warmth.
"So how did you learn to cook?" I pull my legs back into a criss cross, content to just learn more about him now. All I know is how good he is at dream sex and how sweet he is in real life. And all of that is great, but it’s not much.
"All over really," he shrugs with a smile. "But I learned a lot of Italian cooking from my mother. She loved doing that. She would have me sit on the counter and watch her."
His gaze drifts in the direction of the kitchen, and I can imagine him laughing there as a little boy, being adored by his mother and adoring her in return.
"Can I ask how she passed?" I ask gently, realizing by what he’s shared with me already that this is likely still a sensitive subject for him.
"Cancer." His brows furrow. "It went fast. By the time they caught it, it was too far along."
"I’m sorry."
"And now dad has cancer as well," he sighs and stares into the distance.
"Oh, I didn’t know. When Lawson called the meeting, he just said Mr. Jansen was ill and tests were needed." My heart sinks. Losing both of your parents to cancer in relatively short succession? I can’t imagine. "Your father is a great man."
Dex smiles. "He is."
"Do you know anything more yet?" I don’t want to probe him for more information that is upsetting, but this feels like something he may need to talk about and hasn’t had a chance to yet.
"No, not yet. But it’s pancreatic cancer. So, we’re trying to be hopeful, but the odds are not great. That’s why he wanted me home. That’s why he wanted me promoted."
"I’m sorry you’re going through all of this, Dex." I want to reach for him, to comfort him like he has comforted me, but I don’t know what’s appropriate. "Do you even think you’ll like being in the office long term?"
"I hope so," he chuckles, but it sounds a bit defeated. "Maybe when you’re back at work, it will be better."
"Is no one bringing you coffee?" I laugh softly. That’s the only thing I’ve ever done for him.
"It’s not that. It’s just that no one is you." There is a deep sincerity to Dex—unlike anyone I’ve ever known. It would be easy to hear that as a line coming from someone else, but from him it’s just... true. And it hits a target of truth that I feel directly in my center. "You’re like the sun breaking through the clouds, Raya. Just like your name."
"That’s good to hear," I smile, not knowing what else to say. "I look forward to getting back, too."
"Have you looked at that potential client I found for you? It’s okay if you haven’t," he waves a hand, indicating it’s not a big deal.
"I haven’t yet. I’ve been mostly sleeping, honestly. I didn’t realize how tired I was going to be."
His eyes soften, and he almost looks worried. "It’s good that you’re getting rest. Come on, let’s get you to bed." He gets up and offers his hand to help me up. "I’m sorry about all of this tonight. It won’t happen again. I’m going arrange for the new locks and alarm system first thing in the morning. The last thing I want is for you to feel unsafe."
I let him pull me to my feet, and his hands find my waist to steady me—completely unnecessary, but there’s no way I’m complaining.
"Do you want a glass of water? Anything before bed?"
"I told you to stop being so nice." I bite my lip, dropping my eyes because it’s hard to take the depth of his.
He hums and tilts his head, viewing me from a different angle—studying me. "And I told you that you’re worth it."
For some reason, this makes my brows pinch. It’s a difficult thing to hear for some reason. Maybe it’s because it’s like he’s implying I’ve never been treated well enough.
He lifts my chin, making me meet his gaze. "You’re worth it. I’m sure one day we will argue and I will do something wrong. I hope it’s not too hurtful, but I need you to be honest with me when it happens. I need to know if I hurt you, because that’s the last thing I want. And I will fix it. You have my word."
My bottom lip drops open, and I notice his eyes catch it. What can I say to that? He just made a vow to me that makes it sound like he plans on being with me for a very long time. And we’re not even together yet. Are we?
"Now you think I’m crazy," he smirks.
"No," I say quietly. "I don’t. I could never. I just... I can’t believe you’re real and this is really happening. That it’s not just dreams. You were always real, and not only that, you’re... good. Too good." I swallow roughly.
"I can assure you that I’m not too good," his eyebrows raise. "I just know the worth of something when I see it. It’s a gift of mine."
"Am I like... the holey shirts that you prefer?" The words just come out, and they sound ridiculous, but there is no part of me that imagines I am anywhere in the same league as this beautiful, rich, successful, incredibly generous and kind man.
His eyes crinkle with laughter, and I smile because I’ve caused it—but it’s a real question.
"First of all, like I said before," he chuckles, "that is a luxury brand." He starts leading me toward his room. "But no, you are nothing like that."
When we get to his room, he opens the door and lets me pass through first before he comes in and closes it so that Moira Rose won’t escape. Thankfully, I don’t see any furniture of his that she has started to destroy with her sharp claws yet.
I scoop her up when she runs over and rub her head.
"Why would you think you’re like holey shirts?" Dex asks, watching me with the cat.
I shrug, embarrassed. "I’m not exactly... a model."
He walks toward me then, and with every step I can feel the warmth in my body increasing until he stops right in front of me and there is only Moira Rose between us. "Please tell me you know how beautiful you are," he says softly, lifting a hand to run along my jaw and sending a cascade of delicious shivers everywhere with his touch.
But I don’t know what to say to that either. He’s continually leaving me speechless.
"Auraya, I have spent three nights only gazing at you in my dreams. I have every bit of your face memorized," his brows furrow. "You are breathtaking."
