Gnome On The Range (19 page)

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Authors: Jennifer Zane

BOOK: Gnome On The Range
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I thought back to the convenience store robbery. The guy was definitely a loser. “I wasn’t really mixed up with him, just wrong place, wrong time.” I intentionally deflected his compliment, if that was what it really was.

“Yes, but you’d just been at my ranch with me. If you’d stayed longer, you would have missed it entirely. I feel it’s my fault.”

I bit my lip. “That’s nice of you to be concerned, but I don’t see how any of it is your fault. Like we both said, that guy was strung out on meth. It was his fault. Besides, nothing happened. I wasn’t hurt or anything.”

Dex ran a finger over my cheek. “I’m glad.” He smiled. It was a killer smile.

I couldn’t help but smile back. In the few minutes we’d talked I hadn’t heard one peep of perv.

“Look, I’ve got to get back to my friend. She’s waiting for me.” I pointed over my shoulder.

“Would you go to dinner with me tonight?”

Wow. “Um. Really?”

“Really,” he repeated.

“You do know I’m not interested in…in doing the things you like to do.” I wrinkled my nose, worried I may have said something to make him feel badly. I couldn’t help it. Good manners were ingrained.

Dex laughed. “Oh, I don’t know about that. Do you like the outdoors, football, skiing?”

“I um…wasn’t exactly talking about that.”

He winked. “Maybe it would be best if we just start over.”

I was completely taken aback. Did Dex have an identical twin? Was he schizophrenic? Was this Gentleman Dex as opposed to Dom Dex?

He could have new answers to the Morty mystery. Dex might know more about his death as his employer. I knew next to nothing, so any information would be helpful. It wouldn’t hurt to try to learn something from him. Again. What could happen over dinner? Oh yeah, Ty. He would not be happy about it. Probably the biggest understatement of the year. But he’d be at work. Unless the restaurant caught fire, he would never know.

Then there was the sex part. Was Dex the kind of man who expected it on the first date? And if he did, what did he have in mind?

“Just dinner?” I asked cautiously. If it was just dinner, it wasn’t really a date, right?

“Just dinner,” he countered. He put a hand on my shoulder, leaned down a little so we were eye level. “You pick the place. We can even meet there, if you want.” He smiled reassuringly.

I gave in. “Okay.” I nodded my head. “Gilly’s Grill.”

“Great. I’ll meet you there at seven.” He gave me a quick, chaste kiss on my cheek before he turned and walked away.

I had to admit, I felt funny things at the brush of his lips against my skin. It might have been his mustache tickling me. I wasn’t sure if I should feel creeped out or special.

***

Having the boys out of town let me eat what I wanted. I’d made a quick dash to the store after Kelly and I finished shopping to pick up a few essentials. Not graham crackers, macaroni and cheese or baby carrots. No sir. My taste buds were on vacation from kid food. I ran into Town and Country and picked up the milk Kelly had pointed out was finished off, cheese puffs, coffee ice cream, the funny, stinky cheese the boys gagged at, large baked potatoes and a jumbo shrimp ring. Sure, it was an odd combination. I didn’t have to eat it all at once, but I’d sure try. As I put the frozen items away, Kelly called.

“Wear one of the dresses tonight with Dex or I will hear about it.”

She would, too.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“I mean it!” she yelled. A kid screamed in the background. “Shoot, I’ve got to go. Caroline blew a bubble and it popped all over her hair.”

Click.

***

I fell asleep on my bed, face first, with the bags from the shopping trip at my feet. I bought two dresses, a pair of black strappy heels, and underwear from Victoria’s Secret. Kelly ordered me to get matching sets, so I ended up with black lace, red satin and an ivory pair that were made out of some sheer material that left nothing to the imagination.

Initially Kelly had been disappointed I’d given her coffee away, but forgave me when she learned it was for Dex. Skeptical at first, she grew to the idea of me going to dinner with him. Although she was wary of me going out with a guy who gave me the heebie jeebies, she chalked the whole date up to practice. The more I got out there with guys I knew weren’t keepers, the better I’d be once I got to the one who was. Besides, all I had to do with him was eat. Nothing else. Gourmet sex was optional.

Maybe the keeper was Ty. At this point, I didn’t know. I had feelings for him. All kinds of feelings. Did they include love? It was possible but, for now, it was all clouded by the whole someone-wanted-me-dead issue.

At six, I rolled out of bed, showered, shaved, primped and spritzed, and was out the door by seven. Only a little bit late. I’m usually a stickler for punctuality, but I took too long debating what to wear. Did I choose the new black dress or the new red one? The red one screamed fuck-me-now and I didn’t think that was the image I wanted to get across with Dex. My other option was my usual black capris and white shirt, but Kelly warned me she’d shoot me dead if I went in that. So little black dress it was.

Dex was waiting at the bar, but joined me at the hostess stand when I came in the restaurant. He wore clean Wranglers, boots and another crisp, white shirt. His brown hair was neat, his face shaven except for the handlebar mustache. I had to admit, he looked good. As he approached, his gaze raked over me from head to toe. From the look in his eyes, maybe the black dress screamed fuck-me-now, too. He leaned in and kissed my cheek. “You look lovely. Would you like a drink?”

He guided me by the elbow to the bar where he’d left his beer and white cowboy hat. The bar was crowded so Dex stood and gave me the tall stool. I sat and crossed my legs. Crap, my dress rode up my thigh just shy of slut. Dex definitely noticed.

I took a deep breath to try to calm my nerves. “Um, beer’s fine.”

He signaled to the bartender, and then turned to me. His leg brushed mine. “I’m glad I ran into you today. I’ve been thinking a lot about you,” he said, without any of the nervousness most men had when admitting their feelings. Dex was one confident man.

My drink came in an icy pint glass. I took a sip. “Really?”

“Like I said at the coffee shop earlier, I think we should start again.”

The hostess approached and showed us to our table. Dex, the gentleman, held out my chair for me. Gilly’s was an upscale restaurant on Main, located in the basement of one of the older buildings. The ambience was warm, the lighting dimmed and the food excellent. We sat at a table in the back where it was quieter, a small candle between us.

Kelly had told me to use this as a practice date. I wore a dress and heels, had on makeup and earrings. This in itself was out of the ordinary. I definitely needed practice in the super high heels.

Usually I held my feelings and opinions close, especially with someone new. But with Dex, knowing this would be the first, and only, date, I could lay it on the line, stick it all right out there. Like the top half of my breasts in this dress.

It didn’t matter what I said. I wasn’t trying to impress him. I wanted to make him not like me so there wouldn’t be another date. And this wasn’t actually a date. It was dinner where I could learn more about Morty Moore. He was the key to finding out who wanted me dead. If dressing up and wearing high heels—and dealing with Dex—was the price for information, I could handle that. For about two hours. Then I turned into a pumpkin and went back to my regular life and comfy clothes.

“Start again? I think you made yourself very clear about what you wanted with me the other times I met you.” I held the menu in my nervous fingers.

Dex nodded. “Yes, I did. I still think I’m right.”

Really
? I raised my eyebrows.

“Just hear me out. I took you for someone who was a submissive or possibly interested in being one.”

I was offended because that was soooo not me. “How could you tell by looking at me? You didn’t know anything about me. You still don’t.”

The waitress came for our orders.

“What would you like?” Dex asked me.

“The fish,” I said as I looked at the waitress.

“She would like the fish and I’ll have the steak, rare.” Dex took my menu and handed them both to the waitress.

“I can order my own food,” I commented, my hackles raised. I’d never had someone order for me, except my mom when I was six.

“I have no doubt. But why would you want to? Don’t you find comfort with me taking care of your needs, protecting you?”

“From the waitress?” I asked sarcastically.

“Not her specifically, but from the hardships, the dangers in life. Giving the day to day challenges to someone else to handle frees you to take care of different, more appropriate things.”

I didn’t think ordering food was a hardship, but who was I to say? “What more
appropriate
things?”

“Your husband, family, home.”

I smiled. “So this dinner,” I moved my hand to indicate the table, “isn’t really a date. You’re looking more, a lot more.”

Oh, boy. Way over my head.

“I admit, I’ve been with women and knew they were never worthy of being my wife.” He took my hands in his large ones. “But the moment I met you, I knew. I want you to be my wife.”

 

 

Chapter Fourteen

Holy crap
.

“Are you proposing?” I squeaked.

He shook his head, squeezed my fingers. “I’m sorry, I admit, I’m not doing this very well. No, it’s not a proposal. I’m stating my intentions. Letting you know I’m serious about you, about us.”

I pulled my hands free. “I have a life, a job,
children
.” As I took a big gulp of my beer, I wished I had something a whole lot stronger.

“Yes, you do. But your job, you work for your mother-in-law. She would understand your need to care for your family first. And I’m sure your children are wonderful, just like our children will be.”

This got weirder and weirder. I actually thought it was funny, and I tried not to laugh. This was every woman’s dream! A man who stated his intentions on the first date. Who wanted to commit. To have children. To provide for them in every way. A man who had a job, who was attractive, had all his hair, and most likely would for years to come.

To top it off, out of all the women out there, he wanted me! This was not good.

“Before you said you would take care of things for me. Take care of me. What does that mean?”

I mentally took notes for Goldie. She’d love to learn the inner workings of a Dom—if she didn’t know already!

Dex smiled, leaned forward. “If you were my wife, I’d expect you to manage my home, raise our children, be the proper, respectful wife at all times, especially in front of others.”

I could only imagine what that meant.

“Behind closed doors,” he continued, “obedience, the ability to recognize my needs and take care of them immediately.”

Um. Hunh.

“And you, as husband and provider, what would I get from you?”

The waitress brought our salads.

Dex didn’t touch his but looked at me, intently, seriously. “I will take care of you financially, emotionally, physically. I will make decisions for you—”

“Like what to eat?” I interrupted.

“I would offer my suggestion about what you serve, what you wear, where you go.”

Finally. The good stuff.

“These would all be things you like. A rare steak, a revealing dress, things like that?”

He nodded. “That’s correct. Wouldn’t you want to please me by serving food I like, wear the clothes that make you attractive to me, go places I feel are safe?”

I took a bite of salad, chewed slowly, and swallowed. Stalled. “What wife doesn’t want to do that for their husband?” I had to admit, he had a point. When I’d been married to Nate, I wanted to cook things he liked to eat. I often picked clothes that I knew would turn him on. I called him when I would be out late so he wouldn’t worry. “I did that for my mine.”

Dex pointed his fork at me. “Exactly. When you came to the ranch last week, you were nervous, skittish.”

True. But that was because Dex was way more man than I could handle.

“Your husband—I remember you said you’d been married—dominated your spirit, the very essence of who you are. He took that from you, without providing in return.”

I swallowed hard. “How do you know that?” Wow, I was having dinner with Dr. Phil.

“I can see it in your eyes when you talk about him.” Dex put his fork down, focused on me. “What did he do to you?”

What the hell.
Practice date. Practice date
. It was the weirdest practice date I’d ever been on. Although this was the first. I sighed. “He cheated on me. Said things that made me feel badly about myself. Left me for another woman.”

Dex’s jaw clenched in anger. “If he wasn’t already dead, I’d kill him. You should not be treated that way.” His voice confirmed it.

I smiled weakly. “That’s…in a weird way…nice of you to say.”

The waitress traded salad plates for entrees.

“He should not have needed to seek out other women. When you are mine, I will make sure you are pleasured sexually, just as much as you will pleasure me. I guarantee there will be no reason to stray.”

“And what would happen if I did?” I dared to ask.

Dex smiled again, this time without any warmth. He cut his steak. It was so rare I waited for it to moo. “You won’t.” He put his silverware down and leaned close, his voice a husky whisper only I could hear, “I’ll give you the best orgasms of your life. You’ll be begging for more.”

I blushed. I could feel it to the roots of my hair. This conversation was going completely the wrong way. How had we gotten this far into what it would be like if I married Dex?

As if!

I wanted to find out about Morty, not Dex’s fantasy marriage. Maybe going along with him would get him to share more about himself. It had worked so far. Maybe he’d be compelled to share about Morty. Maybe.

Okay, play along. Play along
. “Mulitple orgasms sound…appealing.” I tilted my head and attempted my best flirtatious smile. “Tell me more,” I tried to sound seductive, although to my ears it sounded as if I needed a cough drop.

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