59. Marnie

I figured Dusty would have no trouble hanging with my eclectic friends.

I was not wrong. He’s charming their pants off.

He has what the rest of us have spent our lives trying to emulate. Natural cool.

Where Simon spends hours carefully crafting his hair so that it looks ‘messy’, Dusty rolls out of bed looking like that.

Simon. That infuriating fucker.

I spent the last year flirting with the guy and while he was happy to flirt right back, he never seemed interested in taking it to the next level.

Now that I’ve moved on, that I’ve got a beautiful man on my arm, he’s suddenly changed his tune.

Too little, too late.

I’m glad things didn’t work out between Simon and me because Dusty is so much better. Charming and funny and completely without vanity. Looking like he does, he should be vain as shit, but he never comes off that way. He’s better than that.

I watch him with proprietorial pride.

He’s smiling and has them rolling with laughter, but something’s off.

It takes a careful eye to know the difference between a genuine smile from this man and the mask he sometimes puts on.

He’s got something on his mind, and I want to ask him what he’s thinking about, but we’re in the middle of a food circus.

My friends are talking over themselves, trying to impress the Silver Bend crew. It’s kind of funny to watch because I get the feeling the Silver Bend group is trying just as hard to impress my friends.

Renata and Ivy are working double time to talk me up. They’re great hype women, but I really wish they’d stop.

For one thing, compliments make me break out in hives.

And for another, it’s making me feel strange.

Renata is going on about my old bakery.

Mimi’s.

Andy and Erin are fully on board with the careful dissection of my best pastries. I’m proud of what I accomplished with Mimi’s. But even as they discuss it, it feels like we’re talking about something in the past. I don’t have the desire to breathe life back into it anymore.

I’m ready for the next thing and I’m starting to realize that I don’t want to do a repeat.

The bakery was successful. It opened doors. We did big events and made a place for Mimi’s in the Lincoln market. It was a wild ride, but I don’t want to write the sequel.

Been there, done that.

Dusty’s bees, the locally grown, sustainable crops, that’s what’s got my imagination going. It makes me feel like I could do something bigger. Something meaningful that I could really love.

And while I’m sheltering that kernel of an idea in my hands, talk of Mimi’s feels like it could snuff it out.

There’s a pressure to come back. To dive right back in. But it doesn’t compel me anymore.

Silver Bend is compelling.

Dusty is compelling.

And he is sitting beside me, to all observers looking relaxed and magnetic. But I can feel how tense he is. Maybe I’m tensing up, too.

It’s not wise to try to out-drink or out-party chefs. These guys can go until the sun comes up.

It was fun seeing my friends, but now all I want to do is drag Dusty back to my place, where we can be alone.

And I realize, fuck it, it’s my God damned birthday. I’m going to do what I want.

Cutting out, Dusty and I make our way to the parking lot. I pause by the car; an errant breeze ruffles my hair.

Dusty wraps his arms around my waist, pulling me into his hips. “Did you have a good birthday?”

I hook my hands over his shoulders, sliding my palms up to link my fingers behind his neck. “Yeah, I think I did. I’m glad I got to spend it with you.”

He smiles, but there’s a funny look in his eye. A chink in his armor.

Pushing up on my tiptoes, I angle my face towards him, and he bends down, brushing his lips over mine.

It’s a sweet kiss, long and soft, and it feels like he’s trying to say something that he doesn’t have the words for.

Which is fine, because I feel the same way.

Sometimes, words just can’t do it justice.