Page 57 of Dust and Desire
“I am,” I said simply, because it was true. Despite the complications, despite Alex’s strange behavior at lunch yesterday, I was happier than I’d ever been.
“Well, aren’t you going to give me the grand tour?” She gestured toward the house. “Show me this rustic paradise that stole you away from civilization.”
I hesitated, suddenly aware of all the evidence of Alex inside, his hoodie hanging by the door, his extra pair of boots lined up beside mine, the two coffee mugs still sitting in the sink from this morning. “It’s pretty small. Not much to see.”
Ali’s perfectly shaped eyebrow arched above her sunglasses. “Dustin Corvus, are you trying to hide something from me? Because if you are, I’m going to be very offended that you think I can’t handle whatever it is.”
I sighed, knowing that tone. Ali had always been like a dog with a bone when she sensed a secret. “It’s not that. It’s just... things have changed since I moved here.”
“Things like what?” She crossed her arms, and I could practically see the wheels turning behind those designer sunglasses. “Wait. Is there someone?”
Heat flooded my cheeks before I could stop it, and Ali’s mouth fell open in surprise.
“There is someone!” She grabbed my arm, her perfectly manicured nails digging into my skin. “Oh my God, Dustin, you’re blushing like a teenager. Who is he?”
“How did you?—”
“Please. I was married to you for five years. I know that look.” Her expression softened slightly. “So? Tell me everything. What’s his name? What’s he like? Is he gorgeous?”
I found myself smiling despite my nervousness. “His name is Alex. And yes, he’s... he’s incredible.”
“Alex,” she repeated, testing the name. “And where is this incredible Alex right now?”
“Working. He’s a ranch hand here.”
Ali’s eyebrows shot up. “A cowboy? You fell for an actual cowboy?” She threw back her head and laughed, the sound bright and genuine. “Oh, this is perfect. My uptight corporate lawyer ex-husband is shacked up with a cowboy in the middle of nowhere Texas.”
“We’re not shacked up,” I protested, though the words felt hollow even to me.
“Honey, his boots are by your door and there are two coffee cups in your window.” She gestured toward the kitchen window where the evidence of our morning routine was clearly visible. I’d forgotten how observant she was. “You’re absolutely shacked up, and I… I couldn’t be happier about it.”
There was genuine joy in her voice, but that strange undertone was there again. It felt like there was something she wasn’t telling me. “You’re... happy about it?” I asked, wanting to make sure.
“Dustin.” She pulled off her sunglasses, and I saw something raw in her light brown eyes. “You look more alive right now talking about this man than you did in the last two years of our marriage. Of course I’m happy about it.”
The words hit me like a physical blow. “Ali, I’m sorry. I never meant to?—”
“Stop.” She held up a hand. “We’ve had this conversation a million times. I don’t need another apology.” She paused again, taking a deep breath. “But maybe you should show me around. Then I should get some rest. I’ve got my own heartbreak to process still too.”
“God… I’m sorry,” I replied quickly. “I didn’t even ask?—”
“I don’t want to talk about it,” she smiled, though I could tell it was fake. “Just show me your world. I want to forget about mine for a while.”
I nodded, understanding the need to escape from painful realities. I’d done the same thing when I’d fled to Texas. “Come on then. Let me show you around.”
I led her up the porch steps and through the front door. The tinyhouse felt even smaller with Ali’s presence filling it, her energy too big for the compact space. She moved through it like she was cataloging everything, taking in the simple furniture, the small kitchen, the unmade bed visible through the open bedroom door.
“It’s so... quiet,” she said finally, not unkindly. “I can’t hear any traffic. Or sirens. Or construction.”
“Takes some getting used to,” I agreed, watching as she examined the books stacked on the coffee table. Romance novels, mostly. Another thing that would have been embarrassing before Alex but now felt like just another part of who I was becoming.
“You’re writing again,” she observed, nodding toward my laptop on the small dining table. “I can tell by the way you keep glancing at it like it holds all your secrets.”
“Just some stories. Nothing important.”
She gave me that look again, the one that said she knew I was deflecting. But instead of pressing, she moved to the window that faced out toward the rolling hills. “It’s beautiful here. There’s not a building in sight.”
“They’re over that hill,” I said, pointing up the driveway. “You saw them coming in, right?”
