Page 34 of The Map Home
Dakota, regardless of sometimes missing important stuff, had suspected for a while that Tad had feelings for him. Poor guy. But he’d assumed that Tad would go away to college and find someone else. It had been a bit of a relief to think that. He’d imagined Tad happy with some smart guy he met in Bozeman. But no, Tad hadn’t met anyone and instead had moved back to Collier’s Creek and reinserted himself into Dakota’s everyday life.
It had been Tad who encouraged Dakota to apply for the criminal justice program. It had been Tad who encourageDakota to travel to Washington State and meet his new-to-him family. Many people—including Boone, obviously—dismissed Tad as nobody important. But in Dakota’s life, he was usually the voice of reason.
There was no way Dakota could risk losing that.
“You’re awfully quiet over there,” Tad said, interrupting his thoughts.
“Just thinking. Soup’s good.”
“It always is. Are we still on for a tree this week?”
Ah, that explained the open area in front of the windows. Dakota scraped the bottom of the bowl with his spoon. He’d forgotten about promising to go with Tad to get a Christmas tree, which just proved that he was unsuitable boyfriend material. His preexisting condition was an aversion to intimacy. He’d set the Christmas tree and what it implied out of his mind.
Tad was still watching him closely, tensed, it seemed, for Dakota to say no, that he’d changed his mind.
“Yep, I’m still in.” Dakota stood to take his bowl over to the sink. Behind him, the silence was almost deafening. After quickly rinsing out the crockery, he turned back around.
Tad’s mouth was partially open, but he said nothing, apparently rendered speechless by Dakota’s words. But before Dakota could add any caveats or stupidity to the stupidity he’d already spouted, Tad’s brain came back online.
“Huh.” His voice squeaked and he cleared his throat. “I did not expect you to say that.” Tad waved his hand. “After, you know.”
Feeling one of those unaccustomed grins spread across his face, Dakota set his spoon down in the sink and sat back at the table.
“Afteryou knowwhat?” he teased.
Tad’s cheeks reddened under Dakota’s gaze. A second or more passed, and Tad narrowed his eyes at Dakota.
“Quit being an ass. You know, you kissed me today.”
“That I did.”
“Why?”
“Because I wanted to,” Dakota said simply.
“Because you wanted to,” Tad repeated.
“Seems pretty clear. Have you ever known me to do something I didn’t want to do?”
Tad considered his words for a minute.
“Actually, no. You’re one of the most stubborn people I know. Why now, though? I mean”—impossibly, his cheeks seemed to turn an even redder shade of red, making his caterpillar of a mustache stand out—“you know I’ve had a thing for you for ages.”
Dakota didn’t immediately answer. While he wished he hadn’t already taken his bowl and spoon to the sink, he pondered his reply.
Unsuitable boyfriend material.
It had been Niall who’d first made him think things could be serious with Tad. He had said something, assuming that he and Tad were already a couple. And boy-howdy hadn’t that given Dakota thoughts to stew about for months. Because it had felt like Niall had turned the light on in a very dark room.
He’d spent the ensuing months blinking against the glare. He’d been oblivious, but once he’d thought about it for a while, he’d known Niall was right, there wassomething, even if it wasn’t more than a hint. After that realization, Dakota had started to make a mental list about why he and Tad together was a bad idea.
Because if one thing was crystal clear, it was that Dakota Green was not good enough for Tad Gillespie, and he never would be.
“Did you kiss me because you feel sorry for me?” Tad demanded. His cheeks were still pink, but now his eyebrows drew together, his eyes narrowed, and his mustache twitched.
Dakota squinted at him. “What? What are you even talking about?”
He shrugged. “It’s the only thing I could think of.”
