16. The Finger Test, Beau

Three Months Later

Late Spring

The beep of the alarm system at the front door signaled I was finally home.

"Hello," I called loudly throughout the house, taking a quick peek into Dash's gorgeous office where he never sat anymore. Something about the boundaries I gave him to study kept him out of the room. I guess he wanted me to bother him more.

"Hey, I'm in here," Dash said from the kitchen. With his review materials spread out across the table, he claimed the setting was cozy. The best spot in the house to work from. I didn't see it. But he managed to shut out the world, buckle down, and tackle the mountainous weekly reading assignments and everything else he had to do. It was so much work, all of the time.

I doubted his theory on the kitchen table's magical study powers. I didn't know why he chose possible time with me over the highly decorated office, but he did, and I happily obliged. Making sure I bothered him at least once on the hour, sometimes more if I remembered to fit it in.

Head over heels didn't begin to describe me. I cherished every moment. Last night, Dash read aloud from one of his advanced textbooks. His sharp mind challenged me to level up my comprehension, picking up the subtlety in his use of language and reason.

"How was your day?" he asked.

Our daily rhythm included him rounding the table to deliver a quick peck. There were rules there too. The kiss had to last at least six seconds, which was enough time to add a slip of tongue.

Dallas had moved into spring and was edging toward a hot summer. The temps outside, where I spent all of my day, were getting warmer. The smell of sweat on my body was turning from musky, the way Dash liked, to straight up yuck. I needed to bathe before we began our extensive greetings upon my return.

"Good. Usual." My nose guided me to the stove where my culinary guy had skill. I didn't lift the lid, careful not to disturb the magic happening there. "Smells better than decent." I cocked my head back toward Dash. "How was your day?"

"Good. Usual," he chimed in with a wink. "Any dogs today to cause you to sprint faster than them?"

Of course, I laughed. It wasn't out of the ordinary to have a dog or two chasing me through the neighborhoods. Me running from animals was definitely the only real cardio I got anymore. Well, that and sex. We were pretty vigorous in the bedroom. Both had to count as calories burned.

"I wish I was fast enough to outrun those fuckers. Their teeth hurt. A rooster came for me today. What's for dinner tonight?" My empty stomach growled.

"It's a chicken and rice dish I found online. A Gordon Ramsay recipe."

"Nice." I forced my feet to move away from the stove, grabbing a water bottle from the refrigerator. "I'm goin' for a quick rinse."

"Hold up." His tone shifted gears. Dash had a way of being direct, without seeming so. This was different. My brows shot up. We weren't big on TV, but I could sense an unwelcome series creeping into my future.

"I don't want to watch anything with a meet-cute, or fashion sewin', or bakin' in England. You can watch all that on your own."

He gave me the reaction I wanted which was a solid laugh followed by him coming to me. His charm still left my knees weak. This time was no different. I didn't think I'd ever get used to all that handsomeness heading my way. The way he walked up on me had my ass hitting the edge of the counter. He came between my parted legs, and I casually circled an arm around him, it was where they always wanted to be. All right, I'd watch anything but the meet-cute if he were in my arms.

"How about the Blair Witch Project? We can turn off the lights and snuggle together. Think scary thoughts," he suggested. A psychological horror was off my list too. It fucked with my head too much.

"Wait, do I get a vote in this, or do I have to do it no matter what?" I asked, already knowing the answer. I'd be going along no matter how he phrased whatever was about to land.

"Good point." Dash stepped away to lean his ass against the counter across from me. So he'd been buttering me up.

"My parents are coming to town…"

Oh hell no . He should've approached this differently. Let me get cleaned up, maybe have a beer. I enjoyed the cold bitter flavor, and I liked being clean even more. My ass pushed off the counter on its own accord.

"Dash, no," I began, lifting the uniform shirt over my head. "It's only been around four months. I won't know how to act around them. Why don't you just tell them? You know how to handle it."

"Be yourself. They'll see why I love you. The first time, we'll roll in, meet and greet my parents. Then the following day we'll have lunch at the club where my brothers and sisters and their families will be. You'll remember Joy…"

"Club, like country club?" I interrupted. "No, I can't do that. I'm not comfortable meetin' your parents yet." The path to the laundry room was on my way to the bedroom. I tossed my shirt on the dryer and kicked off my work boots. Dash padded after me, altering my normal way of undressing in here before my shower. I couldn't get trapped in this room with him all in my face, trying to change my mind. My altered course had me undressing further as I started down the hall to the bedroom.

"I can't just say hello and leave. That seems rude." Fuck , I'd dreaded this meeting since I first realized I was going to have to meet his family at some point. I'd naively hoped he'd handle them. Dash viewed situations how he wanted them to be, not actuality.

How on freaking earth was I supposed to dine at a fancy club? Remembering which fork to use was a serious problem for me. No matter how I tried, from one etiquette training session to another, I couldn't retain any of it. It seemed overly complicated for no reason.

"They won't have time for us. They'll be swamped with engagements. Half an hour, max," Dash said, trailing behind me. Clad in my knee-high socks and underwear, I paced the bedroom before going inside the bathroom. I attempted to shut the door in his face, but he bounced it back on me.

"When?" I finally said, dropping down on my ass on the closed commode.

"Next weekend," he answered calmly, like that wasn't only seven days away.

"So you'll be done with school? Because you have a lot ridin' on right now." I desperately tried to make the misfiring cylinders in my head find a real way out this mess. To distract from the panic building inside me, I finished undressing. My socks came off first, tossing them toward the door where I left my shorts and undershirt—they'd make it to the washing machine soon and dropped my underwear where I stood, those were toe tossed toward the rest of my clothes.

I need space and time. A concept Dash didn't believe in, but I needed to think properly. There was no scenario where I saw his family happy with me in the picture. I went to the shower, flipping it on. As the water cascaded down, my mind raced.

"Give me fifteen minutes," Dash countered, standing next to me. "I can tell them alone, but I'd rather you be there."

"I don't have anything to wear," I said lamely.

"That's not true, but I'll get you something new, or you can wear a pair of jeans. However you present is fine." A caring, caressing palm ran the length of my bicep. The touch was probably meant to be positive and encouraging. Instead, I felt the invisible shackles clamping shut around my wrists and ankles.

Blue jeans? Right. The release of my pent-up sigh said it all.

"I'll get you something that's comfortable but appropriate. Not a problem."

A myriad of new concerns arose. No one shopped like Dash shopped. He enjoyed browsing everything, trying on most of what he saw, spending more money than I'd make in a lifetime. Now I'd be the one trying on the clothes? Going from store to store...

I loved him. I did. I loved spending time with him. Except when shopping.

Without finger-testing the temperature, I stepped under the spray. Thankfully, the water temperature was perfect.

I scrubbed my hands down my face. I didn't want to lose Dash. My gut told me nothing good could come from surprising his parents with me. When I started to speak those words, his warm, strong palms pressed against my back, massaging my sore muscles.

I glanced back to see him naked behind me. My grin was instant. My God, I was the luckiest guy in the world. Tingles raced across my nerve endings, like they always did when Dash was around. He doted on me, putting my needs first in every way. The press of his lips kissed my left shoulder. Then his thumbs dug into those muscles, loosening their tight hold.

"I didn't mean to upset you. I'll go alone. I liked the idea of us being a united front. Also, I might want to gently rub it in their faces that you came back to me." His lips touched my right shoulder. "My father worked to get you away from your father. We just didn't have contacts in Mobile, but he tried to help you. When you do meet him, you'll like him. He's easy to be around. I promise." His thumbs went to work on the muscles on that side of my back. "If you decide to go, we'll be fast. I want them to see you and meet you. See why I put my life on hold for you."

Warm water cascaded over my head and down my body, soothing me through the entire run. My shields lowered. I let his words sink in as my muscles relaxed. We both understood I'd cave eventually. I'd straighten out my thoughts. Maybe not until we were driving up to the house, but I'd get there.

Dash never did anything fairly. He kept up the persistent massage, winding his way to my belly, caressing down my stomach muscles. Of course, I was hard as stone. When wasn't I? Dash had had me in every way, over and again, and still wanted me in bed and out.

My real fear in facing his family was the same fear I lived with daily. If I stayed true to myself, embraced who I was and who I was always meant to be, I wouldn't fit in the world of the Richmonds.

I pressed my forehead to the tile as he reached around, clasping my hard-on with both hands. "At least you're happy to see me."

"I'm always amped up when you're around. You know that," I said, grumbling and closing my eyes, feeling every tug of his fist. The small nipping kisses trailed to my ass. His right hand left my cock, my body tightened. I loved when he licked my ass.

So, when I turned and took his forearm, drawing him up against me, it came as a surprise to both of us. "Save it for later. I'll go meet them. I'm not sure about the club, but I'll do my best."

"Thank you," Dash murmured happily and pressed his lips to mine. I shifted my head away from his offer. I wasn't finished.

"Promise me, when you see how badly I don't fit in, you'll let me down easy."

Dash's face morphed through multiple expressions. I pressed my fingers against his lips to keep his words on the inside.

"Just promise me."

I slightly lifted my hand off his mouth by a marginal degree. "Are you saying because you might not—" My hand pressed down again, stopping him from speaking.

"Promise me." I brought my other hand to the back of his head, keeping him locked there.

"Well, I don't know how to do that with your hands actively keeping me quiet," Dash mumbled against the firm press of my finger. "But yes, I promise not to let you leave me because you're uncomfortable." Frustrated with being silenced, he tugged my forearm away, dislodging my hold. "I went to your world and tried my best to fit in. I wasn't always comfortable, but I tried. Can you please try for me?"

The underhanded, dirty, con man got me good with that reply. He wasn't wrong. And no, his efforts only made me want him more.

"Yeah, I can." I nudged him under the spray and snatched the soap from the shelf.

Now, what was my plan to get through it all? If I stayed cool, remained quiet, and followed Dash's lead, maybe I'd unravel the mystery of rich people…

Nah, I'd humiliate Dash. My nervous energy struck double time fast, sending me into super negative mode.

The demon of insecurity began running loops inside my head. The push I gave to the soap bottle dumped way more out than I wanted. Maybe it was a sign. Of what? I didn't know. I had bigger problems. I ran my hands over my body, washing away the grime of the day. Maybe it'd rinse the layers of me off with it, remove all the country hick so I'd present better to be worthy of Dash.

"Hey, come here," Dash called from the kitchen, where he was no doubt preparing something delicious for us, probably ice cream. I love that stuff. "Amelia's not thrilled that you're taking over her duties." I couldn't help but roll my eyes.

"It's not right for her to do all the dirty work," I said, giving my perpetual response as I planned to tackle my laundry after I finished sweeping the foyer. My work boots always left a trail of the outside when I came in.

"But that's her exact job," Dash laughed, stepping around the pile of dirt I'd created, with a bowl of ice cream in hand. He took a bite from the one bowl, two spoons and two scoops. "She's asked me to put a lock on the laundry room door to keep you out. Your vibe's messing up her flow."

I glanced his way while drawing the dirt into a tight circle. All I'd ever done was my laundry. How did that mess with her flow? I vacuumed and swept what I left behind...

"You're overthinking it." The spoon entered my peripheral vision, laden with a tempting scoop of ice cream. "I may have embellished a bit. She wants to take care of you like she takes care of me. Now, come join me on the sofa. It's my attempt to begin using other rooms in this house rather than the two we stick to. Dig into this with me. I put extra hot fudge, so the ice cream is beginning to melt."

He sashayed closer, reeling me in with his unmitigated charm. I took the bait and leaned in for a bite. His pucker came next. Ice cream was on his lips, and the tip of his tongue slipped inside my mouth. Dash was a goofball, offering me a bite to then steal it. Another spoonful followed. This time, he let me have it all to myself.

I grabbed the dustpan, ushering the small amount of dirt I found inside, and started toward the trash can. If I didn't do it now, there was zero way he'd allow me to finish. Everything Dash did had a romantic edge. Floor sweeping was likely to ruin the mood he was creating. "Go sit down. I'll dump this and be there."

"I just received an email that Dedman accepted me into their accelerated program, allowing me to graduate a semester early. I then called Haynes, Baker, Smart, and Reed. They seemed happy that I can begin work on January 6th," Dash explained, following me until we ended on the sofa facing the backyard. The bite he scooped went into his mouth as I dropped down beside him.

"Exactly what you wanted. Good for you," I chirped. I took the second spoon and scooped up a mouthful of ice cream, savoring it when it hit my tongue.

"I also heard today from admissions," he added, his expressive face turning neutral, lawyer mode worthy. And here we go again. What had Dash cooked up now? "You have a place at SMU. They're offering scholarships to help fund you."

Right, I wasn't letting that fib slip past. "Don't lie to me over things I know about. You're payin'."

"No." Dash shook his head innocently. "I'm not lying. They wanted you to play football, but I said you were out." Whatever expression I had on my face caused Dash to laugh. "I told them that I thought your goals had changed and you wouldn't be attending college there."

That was a very good answer. If I needed college, I'd do some night classes or online, I heard that was becoming a thing. My appetite returned as suddenly as I'd lost it. I scooped up a big bite. Dash enjoyed nibbling at his food, savoring the experience. Me? I hunkered down into the meal. My current goal, I wanted the hot fudge that had slipped to the bottom. Whip cream and a cherry came with it.

"How'd you fit all that in your mouth?" Dash asked. "Do you have brain freeze?"

Oh, I definitely experienced brain freeze, but tried my hardest to hide the sharp, piercing pain from my face. Through the effort, I absentmindedly dropped the spoon in the bowl then reached for the remote.

"My schoolmates have planned an end-of-semester party at a nearby swim bar. Wanna go?" Dash swiveled his whole body my way, excitement dancing in his eyes.

So yeah another uncomfortable setting for me. "When is it?"

"After lunch with my family. A group of us rented the club for the day and night. Families in the day, adults at night." Adult meant he'd have me wearing something skimpy. The few times we'd gone dancing, as the night progressed, my clothes began to fall off. Depending on the situation—no that wasn't right. Depending on nothing, Dash put maximum effort into everything he did.

I could feel his penetrating stare straight at my profile. Another bite teased at my lips. Of course, I accepted it, but it landed in my stomach differently this time. "I paid my portion to keep the club private and said we'd be there. It's a pool club environment. I believe I said that. We'll have a buffet, swimming, dancing, and drinks. It's the kind of place I feel like we'd enjoy."

We did have a great time out in the world together, but they weren't in places I could embarrass him. We danced, got tipsy, and taxied home. It didn't matter that he had a sophisticated take on everything, while I was more redneck in my approach to life. This one was going to matter. "Dash."

"Beau," he mimicked. Yup, I was way past tired of that.

Why were we doing all these things at once? I had new clothes, I was cutting my hair tomorrow night, getting a barber shop shave…

My guy didn't get life. I scrubbed a palm down my face. Why didn't he adore our cozy cocoon like I did? He needed to handle all this on his own. I'd wait here for his return and listen to everything he had to say about it. "You go and have a good time—"

Dash interrupted before I had the word go out of my mouth. "You fit in my world easily. Everybody loves you."

"Stop lying. None of your friends know me. I've never met them." Absently, my palm reached for my heart, rubbing there. My guy was trying to give me a heart attack.

Dash erupted into laughter before I finished again. "You're a legend! Everyone's heard about the epic moment you whisked me out of that bar like a hero in a fairy tale."

My eyes did a full-on spin inside their sockets at the ridiculousness of a bunch of competitive law students getting lost in make-believe romantic notions. I aimed the remote at the TV, tapping the power button. With a raised eyebrow, I said, "Not the way it happened."

"You'd never convince anyone of that." Dash waved away my reality check. "We aren't what you think. There's lots of people like you and me there," he said, his palm coasting over my hair. "Change of subject. You were talking about the new haircut you scheduled. I found something you might like. It's long, you wouldn't cut much off the top, and the sides fade. I think it'll frame your face really well, and this front part can be tied back. It's a cool look."

I let him shift gears, because ultimately, I was going to the swim party, just like going to meet his family. "Do you have a picture?"

"Loads. Let me get my laptop." In a single fluid move, he lifted off the sofa, bowl in hand. My mind went distracted as I scrolled through the television guide, lost to the thoughts in my head. Too much was happening too quickly. Anxiety quickened my heart rate. I hadn't settled into any of this. Something didn't feel right.

The crash and burn felt inevitable, and I couldn't find a way to stop it. As I clicked the channel button, I stared at the enormous screen. The patter of Dash's feet became louder as he made his way back to me. I let go of a steadying breath, a technique I'd learned for when anxiety became palpable.

We'd be okay. I trusted Dash, and he trusted me. If he thought I could handle it, I'd do my best to figure it out.