Laura laughed harder. Dean joined in and they both chuckled together.
“Peter Miller does not have a crush on me,” she told him and chuckled to herself. The idea was ridic
ulous.
“Why not? You’re a woman and you’re in his age bracket.”
“Believe me. I’m not his type. He goes for the blonde and beautiful ones,” she said to him.
“You don’t know what he thinks. He may have a crush and not know what to say. Just because your hair isn’t blonde, don’t rule out an attraction,” he replied.
Laura stared at him. He hadn’t said she was not beautiful.
“I’m fat. No man would stare twice at me,” she responded.
Dean tapped her on the hand. The action shocked her, even though it wasn’t painful. “Hey,” she said.
“You know, you women get me. Do you really think men care about body shape?” he asked.
“You haven’t been in the dating scene for some time. You clearly you don’t understand how important it is,” she argued.
“You’re not fat, Laura, and far from it and while you’re on my property you don’t say that word. Let's move on because I feel this subject is going to lead to more arguing.” Dean lifted his glass and took a long swig.
She stared at him a few seconds before drinking from her own.
“What movies do you like?” he asked.
“Romance,” she said instantly, no longer trying to play it cool.
“Great. I’ve got a few movies to watch over the weekend. What do you think about watching them with me? I’ve already phoned your parents for permission. I didn’t want to ask you and get your hopes up in case they refused.”
It sounded as if he thought her child and that he had to get her parents permission. Laura placed her glass down on the grass lawn and leaned back folding her arms. Most people her age were already in their own places.
“I’ve got to get my own place,” she muttered under her breath. Looking at Dean she responded, “Yes, I’d love to watch some films with you.”
They stayed outside watching the sun set in the sky. She loved being pressed against his warmth and feeling as if she belonged. Dean was an amazing man, even if he teased her constantly.
“Could you tell me one thing about yourself?” she asked as the last rays of sunlight shone on the garden.
“I’m scared of spiders,” he whispered as he bent down and pressed a kiss to her head.
She closed her eyes at his touch. The act seemed so natural. She was thankful for his ease around her.
“I’d better take you home,” he said and took her hand to lead her to his car.
She didn’t know if he was aware of what he was doing, but she liked it.
* * * *
Dean dropped her at home and declined the offer of dinner. His creative juices were flowing and he needed to get back to his study. The work in progress didn’t have a title yet, but the small snippet he’d sent to his editor had been well received.
He placed a shop bought pasta bake in the oven and moved to his office. The screen was lit and before he’d even sat down his fingers were playing along the keypad.
The nightmare had struck. Another man played for her affections and she didn’t even see it. The beauty within her was masked by her insecurity. Didn’t she know how precious she’d become to his every waking need? Her soft skin and welcoming smile was the best part of his day, but he couldn’t control every part of her daily life. When he drove her home, they were the worst parts of his day. He knew the rest of the night would be spent fighting off the demons of his past -- the pain, and then the guilt, as this young woman invaded his mind.
What would it be like to kiss her? To feel those soft, plump lips open up beneath him? He was being driven insane by a woman he couldn’t have.
Who was the man she’d talked about? Did she want him or was her hatred just an act? He would be driven insane if he didn’t get an answer soon.