How You Get 'Em

Chapter Two

If we didn't arrive at my mother's house within the next few minutes, I was positive that I was going to fall asleep from boredom. Even Rachel would've been better to be stuck in such a confined space with. This guy had the personality of a brick wall. Actually, that seemed more interesting than the man who was Dash Owens.

Okay, so maybe that was a bit of an over-exaggeration, but it was quite obvious by my exasperated sighs that I wasn't in the mood to talk, especially to someone who was that tempting and making me close to ready to violate girl code. It was not going to happen. Nah uh, I was not going to fall for his charms and caring nature about whether or not I had a nice flight or if I was warm enough in his car since the night had gotten chilly. Truthfully, I was snug in his leather seat, inhaling the delicious scent of it mixed with his; a crisp, and what I could describe as a cool, wintery scent, and it had been the most comfortable drive I'd ever experienced, but he was not going to know that. The only problem was how often the questions came and how often a dark, intense gaze was trained on the side of my face instead of the road ahead.

To me, there was nothing wrong with silence, but every few minutes, questions were thrown my way, followed by silence once they'd been answered. Maybe when the car came to a halt at the next stop sign, I'd finally get the chance to throw myself from it. Eh, who was I kidding? It was a free ride and a lot quicker than waiting for a stranger to come pick me up and charge for it.

From the few minutes we'd spent side by side, it became clear that Dash was a selfless person, even more so than Stephan, and I desperately tried not to think too much about it. I was failing. Miserably.

That quality was rare in the men I'd come across in my short life, but his concern for my well-being made me strangely irritated, making me want to just yell at him to close his mouth and stop being so compassionate. I wanted him to snort and roll his eyes at whatever I said and only talk about himself instead of me. It wasn't that I was attracted to assholes, but it was how I wanted him to act toward me. It would be better for the two of us and my cousin, and I would go back home to the city without any guilt or regret.

An a.m. news station quietly droned through the speakers of his BMW SUV, and it made me wonder if it was really necessary - the expensive car, not the news. This isn't him, I thought, knowing that he would rather have something less flashy that didn't cost nearly as much money.

Rachel. Her name flashed in my head, a scowl forming on my face as I thought about how needy and spoiled she was when we were younger. There was no doubt in my mind that she was the one influencing his choices, and I knew damn sure Delilah did not raise him to worship materialistic things.

This poor, poor man.

Dash expertly drove to the outskirts of Fairfax to my mother's house, not once asking for directions. Again that irritation boiled within me, and scenarios of him coming to change a light bulb or mow her grass flashed in my mind. As much as I wanted to stupidly be upset at the type of man he was, I knew he was a good one, thankful that he'd been watching over my family when there wasn't anyone else to. Maybe Peter had, but, well, we all know what happened to him.

The two-story Colonial my mother had built after my parents divorced came into view, and a wave of animosity settled over me. I hated the house and everything about it. It was my mother's 'fresh start', but to me, it was a reminder of her dismissing her problems. We could've stayed in the house with all our happy memories up until the end of my parents' marriage, but she wanted no reminders of that 'lying bastard'. My father was neither of those things. She was just too stubborn and set on an idea that her single, lonely friends drilled in her head. She'd thrown away something good, and now, she was just like those miserable women, gossiping and looking down at everyone over their pointy noses.