Chapter 73: Not Just Dessert
- RAYA -
"I’m sorry, you walked right into that one," Dex chuckles when I smile shyly. "That was too tempting not to say."
"Don’t apologize," I shake my head. "With how much you’re getting Melon Pan, just know I will probably end up tasting like strawberries and custard when the time comes. So if you’d prefer something else..." I shrug and take the bag, removing one of the desserts and sticking my thumb in my mouth when the custard gets on it.
The surprised amusement in his eyes flickers briefly with desire, and then Ken returns through the back door carrying his equipment.
"Hold that thought," Dex says with a smirk before returning to talk to Ken about where the placement of everything is going to be.
Meanwhile, I’m trying not to burst with the thrill of flirting with the sweetest and most handsome man I’ve ever met while wearing his shirt and eating a strawberry croissant. This might be one of the best moments in my life, as strange as it sounds. I definitely feel spoiled.
When Dex returns, he pulls another croissant from the bag and has to lick his thumb, too. "Where were we? Strawberry and custard?" He takes a bite and makes a little grunt of approval. "Yeah, this is good."
"So good," I giggle. "Seriously, I’ve only ever gotten this for special occasions. If I’m currently the perfect size to eat, I would suggest you stop spoiling me with these. Because I could turn into a very happy, chubby woman very quickly if I were to have these everyday."
"Okay, maybe I should revise what I said, because it could easily be misunderstood," he replies, wiping his mouth with a napkin. "You are and will always be the perfect size..."
"No, no, no," I interrupt, laughing, "don’t start lying, because then I will no longer believe anything you say, Dex Mobius."
"I’m not lying." He leans on the counter. "What makes you think that? Would you no longer eat this if it were a different size? It would still taste the same. It would still be delicious." And then he takes another bite, his gaze remaining on me.
"How can you be this perfect?" I blurt out, not able to keep the thought to myself. "I know we’re kidding, but..."
"I’m not kidding," his eyebrows pinch and he pushes off the counter. "I’m definitely not perfect, but I’m not kidding about this."
"So what you’re saying is..." I set the rest of my treat on the wrapper it came in, "if you were to have met me, and I was like significantly overweight, we would still be here right now?"
"What I’m saying is," he chuckles and scrubs a hand over his face, glancing in the direction where Ken disappeared in the next room. Then he leans closer, thinking about his next words carefully, and I can see that the teasing has left. Now he looks thoughtful and sincere, and before he even says anything more, my heart starts fluttering wildly. Because whatever he is about to say, he wants it to be right and he wants me to believe it.
"Raya, if I were lucky enough to have you long enough that you changed physically in any way, it would never affect how I feel about you. And that is something I can tell you for certain."
I blink, breath catching. I thought we were just talking about tasting things, not... feelings. "How can you know that?" I whisper. "You barely know me now, and..."
"And yet somehow I do know you," he says, his gaze thoughtful as he studies my face. He reaches up to innocently wipe something from my cheek, smiling as he does while I remain gaping at him. Honestly, where does he get all of these perfect words? Can he truly be serious?
"I know it sounds crazy, but it’s like our souls know each other. I knew it right when I met you. And our souls aren’t here." He does a little waving motion over his body. "Whatever this is is obviously much deeper."
I don’t know what to say. He has taken the silly, flirting thoughts completely from my head.
"I’m sorry. That’s too much, isn’t it?" He grimaces and slides away from me.
"No, no... I," I shake my head, swallowing, seeking words. Words are hard. "I’m just... I’m afraid to believe you. I’m afraid because I feel myself believing you, and if this is just, say, a dessert we decide to enjoy for awhile, that’s one thing. And I can live with that if it is. But the way you talk, it’s like you plan on... longer."
"It’s not just dessert," he says, and I can see he wants to say more but he doesn’t.
"Mr. Mobius, can I show you something?" Ken comes in and interrupts us.
"Of course," he says and gives me a lingering smile before he follows the man out of the room.
Holy moly, what just happened? I stare at the croissants that are unfinished on the counter, and they have never seemed more magical than they do right now. This would all really be so much more believable if he would stop saying all these wonderful things.
When Dex returns, I’m in the same position, staring at the counter. "Are you okay?"
The forbidden question snaps me out of my trance.
"Yes, thank you," I smirk, breaking his rule in return.
He shakes his head with a small chuckle. "This is going to take a little while," he gestures back toward where Ken is working. "How do you feel about looking over the potential client I found for you? Then maybe I’ll feel less guilty about not showing up to the photo shoot."
"Sure." It will be good to get my thoughts on regular things. Work is a good regular thing.
We walk back to the guest house, the sun now dancing brilliantly along the water. It’s gotten warm out, and the fragrance of the flowers drifts our way.
"So what happened today? Why did you really leave?" I ask. It can’t be as simple as he said. Something must have happened to provoke him to leave.
"Well..." he glances at me, looking for something to tell him how much he should share, I’m guessing. "All of the reasons I already gave you, but Grace also showed up early and wouldn’t leave my office. She’s my ex. And then Lawson walked in late with my cousin who I haven’t seen in years who has had some trouble with the law. His name is Luciano."
He pauses to put a code into the door and then pushes it open.
"Like I said, it’s like my brother is just tossing things at me to see what might trip me up. And I’m not sure what to do about it. I’ve never faced anything quite like this before," he admits. "I want to just kick his ass, but I can’t. I’m honestly wondering whether or not I should have Luciano do it for me." He chuckles.
When we start walking through the rooms, my eyes are scanning to see if anything looks disturbed in case it was a burglar last night. But as far as I can tell, everything looks the same. Dex grabs the laptop from where he left it initially. Thankfully that wasn’t stolen. I would have felt horrible for not putting it somewhere safe and out of view.
"Lawson really seems like a bully. Was he always that way?" I ask curiously.
I remember Dex telling me on that second day I met him that he loves his brother dearly. It’s sad that Lawson would pick ambition over a relationship with his brother. Right now the two of them could really use each other’s support with their father’s diagnosis.
"He’s always been a bit of a narcissist. When you’re younger you overlook that, and I kind of thought he’d grow out of it. I think he was also jealous of the relationship between my parents. I got the sense that he felt left behind, but he was always welcome here. My mother tried to treat him like a second son. He didn’t take very well to it, though."
"He didn’t like your mom?" I ask as gently as possible, hating Lawson more and more but trying not to show it. He’s Dex’s brother after all.
"It was more like... he hated that he liked her," Dex chuckles. "You couldn’t not like my mom. She was wonderful to everyone."
"I wish I could have met her," I say before I can think better of it.
He looks at me with a soft smile. "I really wish you could have, too. But..." He rubs his beard, hesitating to say the rest.
"What?"
"I almost feel like she’s part of why we met. I can’t explain it, but in my nightmare last night I was following what sounded like her. I could hear her crying, but then in the dream you ran by and you were being chased by something. That’s when I woke up and realized you were having a nightmare, too."
I think back to my own nightmare... to seeing Nana and feeling something very similar. It’s like this all happened for a reason, and somehow she was involved in it.
"Nana was in my dream," I say softly. "I felt like she had something to do with this, too. She told me something like... there were reasons and not to blame myself for the accident." I reach up and touch the locket around my neck.
When my eyes drift back to Dex, he’s gazing at me in that deep way again and it makes me wonder how I could ever doubt what he said about souls. He looks at me that way—like his adoration goes deeper than what’s on the outside.
"Maybe they brought us together somehow," he suggests.
"Maybe."
"Remember in that one dream that took place here how you were reaching for something?" He looks at the kitchen. "Do you remember what you were reaching for?"
I look up at the shelves. "That was not one of the more memorable details," I chuckle, reminded of everything that came after that.
"For me either," he smirks. "But then when I was cleaning this place up for you, I found this." He reaches up and grabs a small tin. "It’s full of letters written in Italian. My grandmother, Nona, used to stay here with us for long stretches of time. These are addressed to her."
"Wow, that’s strange. And beautiful."
He opens the tin and takes out neat stack of envelopes. "I don’t remember ever seeing these before, but here they are... right where you were reaching."
"Do you read Italian?" I ask with a hopeful smile.
"No," he chuckles. "We would need someone to translate them."
"Your family maybe?" I suggest.
"Maybe," he nods, rubbing his beard again. "They always get together on Sundays to eat and catch up. It’s been a tradition for as long as I can remember, and Luciano did invite me to stop by some time.
"You should. I bet they would all love to see you."
He nods, but I can tell he’s not committed to the idea. There are probably a lot of memories he would have to face were he to go.
"I could always come with you if you want," I suggest. "Just, you know, in case you need an excuse to leave early. The girl recovering from injuries could probably find a plausible reason to make you leave."
"That’s true," he smiles. "I will definitely think about it." He closes the tin and tucks it under his arm. "Ready to head back?"
