8
Dex hurried through his shower and threw on clean clothes. He’d never thought much about the way he looked, but working for a woman who designed clothes for a living had him feeling like he should step up his game. Except he didn’t have anything nicer than khakis and polos. That was fancy in his book.
When he walked down the stairs and caught Taylor staring at him with her mouth slightly open and a big, bad wolf look in her eyes, he figured his version of fancy was good enough.
She snapped her mouth shut and her eyes away, and he missed that tiny glimpse of Taylor like she’d actually walked out the door and left him behind. When she pressed her lips together in what was supposed to be a smile, then asked if he was ready to go, he was sure he’d never see the real her again.
The drive
