Page 4 of The Desperate Warrior

She pushed out a long, heavy breath. “Okay, Dean. Time to have the hard discussion I’ve been putting off.” While she liked Dean, there were no fireworks. It was better to end it now rather than to prolong the inevitable.

After she iced her foot and fixed herself some dinner, she’d call him and break the news.

Or maybe not. When she got home, she found him sitting on her front porch, holding a bundle of red roses wrapped in a plastic sleeve. She winced inwardly as she used her remote to open the garage door. Dean tossed her a cavalier smile and wave. She drove in and turned off the engine. He really was a handsome man with his thick head of mid-tone brown hair and patrician features. She wished she felt the same way about him as he did her … truly.It just goes to show that the heart wantswhat the heart wants.She wasn’t sure what type of guy would be right for her, but she knew it wasn’t Dean.

When she got out of the car, Dean met her in the garage.

“Hiya, beautiful,” he began with a broad smile that showcased his pearly white teeth. He leaned in and gave her a peck on the lips. “I’ve missed you so much,” he breathed, his brown eyes taking on a smolder that darkened them to walnut.

“It has been busy.”

“I figured since you haven’t returned any of my calls or texts.”

She bristled at the faint hint of accusation in his tone. Before she could take too much offense, however, he flashed her a mea culpa smile.

“I’m sorry I’ve been a pest. It’s just that I got us reservations at The Magnolia Terrace this evening and wanted to let you know ahead of time.” He held up the roses, excitement shimmering in his eyes. “Tonight’s a special occasion.”

“Oh?”

“Our eight-week anniversary.”

She suddenly felt like she had ants swarming her entire body. “I didn’t realize we were keeping count.”

He gave her a reproving look. “Of course we are.” He eyed her with such adoration that it turned her stomach. “Eight weeks down, and the rest of our lives to go.”

Ew, this was getting sticky. And her foot was killing her! She felt like some sadistic person was ramming a needle through her pinky toe over and over again. She moistened her lips. “Um, let’s go inside so we can talk.”

“Of course.” A large grin split his face as he motioned. “Lead the way.”

For someone who was such a successful realtor, Dean certainly wasn’t great at picking up on nonverbal clues. He followed her inside.

Concern sounded in his voice. “You’re limping. What happened?”

“I whacked my toe on the chest in my bedroom this morning,” she lamented.

He made a face. “Ouch.”

She deposited her purse on the kitchen island.

He looked around. “Do you have something I can put these flowers in?”

She pointed to the cupboard to the right of the refrigerator. “Up there.”

As he went to retrieve the vase, she took off her shoe, welcoming the immediate release from the pain of having her foot stuffed in a confined space all day long. She slid off her sock and grimaced at the purple bruise that spanned the entire width of her foot just below her toes. No wonder she was in so much pain. The impact of the hit had done more than just damage her pinky toe. She wiggled her toes, noting that her pinky toe was barely moving. It was red and swollen. Ugh!

After Dean had put the flowers into a vase of water, he turned to her, eyes dancing with excitement. “So? Are you up for dinner at The Magnolia Terrace?”

She gave him an apologetic look. “I’m sorry, but I’m really not.”

His crestfallen look pricked her with guilt.

“My foot is killing me,” she explained.

He looked down. “It does look bad.” It only took a second for him to switch gears as his voice lilted. “Okay, change of plans. We’ll stay here tonight. We can order in, and I’ll pamper you.” He gave her an intimate smile. “Maybe give you a neck and shoulder massage to help you relax.”

Her insides cringed. This wasn’t going to be easy. She hobbled over and sat down on a bar stool. While it was tempting to just let things stay at status quo, it wasn’t fair to lead Dean on.He was becoming way too invested in her. The kind thing to do would be to put a stop to this right here and right now.

“What are you in the mood to eat?” He pulled out his phone.

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