Page 51 of He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not

I sit up, turning to him. ‘Make what happen? Winning? Cause yeah, like I said, you’ve got this in the bag, friend.’

He gets to his feet, walking under the arrangement as he inspects it. ‘I meant the massage.’

I stand, wiping off my backside. ‘You’re going to give me a massage?’ I ask. ‘That’s a little dangerous, don’t you think?’

Maybe I haven’t been in the dating world for a long time, but I know men don’t usually hand out massages without expecting something else.

‘Like a steep grade hill without brakes.’ He laughs, his cheeks glowing a deep pink color. ‘I wouldn’t do it personally unless, of course, you wanted that.’ He winks. ‘But I know a place. I could set something up. As a thank you.’

‘You’d do that?’

‘Absolutely. I can help dig those splinters out too.’ He whips a small knife from his pocket and grabs my hand playfully. ‘This will only hurt a little.’

‘Ah, no way!’ I pull my hand from him, inspecting the tiny pieces of wood gleefully living just beneath the skin. They seem happy right where they are.

‘You don’t need to organize a massage either. You do enough for me. Trust me.’

‘I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. Nobody’s twisting my arm,’ he says, lifting a shoulder. ‘I like to see you smile, Hols.’

‘You two ready to video chat with McKenzie?’ Ian interrupts our moment. ‘She wants to check out your work, so I’ll give her a tour, then she’ll discuss her thoughts with the two of you. This part will be filmed, so be mindful of your language.’

‘Sure,’ Dax says. ‘Let me just clean up real fast.’

The two of us pack the ladders and supplies back to his delivery truck, cleaning up anything we brought, so the wedding site is as pristine as it was when we got here.

‘I’m nervous. Like’ – he blows out a breath, running a hand over his beard – ‘I kind of want to puke nervous.’

‘Dax, the display is truly gorgeous.’ I touch his shoulder. ‘If this were my wedding, I’d be thrilled.’

‘Yeah?’ He glances at my hand, a hint of a smile on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest like he’s not convinced.

‘Yeah,’ I say. ‘You’ve got nothing to be nervous about.’

‘Thanks, Hols.’

He closes the truck doors, motioning for me to follow him to the tent. I hear McKenzie’s voice over the iPad Ian holds when we walk in.

‘There they are,’ Ian says, handing Dax the iPad.

‘Hi,’ he says to her, obviously nervous as he speaks.

‘This. Is. Incredible. Ian laid the iPad under your arrangement, and I’m blown away. It’s beautiful. The contrast between the look the wedding will have outside and then inside the tent is magical!’

Dax smiles. ‘Thank you.’

‘How do you feel you two did?’

I’m surprised when he grabs my hand, squeezing it tightly as he speaks. I can’t even comprehend what he’s saying with all the lights and sirens going off in my head, signaling a red flag where I’m sure there isn’t meant to be one. I knew my red flag beacon was broken. This is proof.

Why is it suddenly hard to breathe? And why does my hand in his feel so wonderful?

No, Hols. Don’t do this. Your feelings are liars. They make all the wrong choices. Tristan is proof.

‘How about you, Hollyn?’

‘Hollyn,’ Dax says, squeezing my hand again.

‘What?’ I ask, glancing at the screen.

---