“What about people skills?” she asked.
“Are you suggesting I have poor people skills?” He appeared to find the question amusing.
“Not in the least…it just seems like a life skill one would acquire as part of the armed forces.”
“I’d like to think I did.”
“But there was no time for…women?”
He attempted to hide a smile, without success. The edges of his mouth quivered with the effort. “What makes you ask?”
His question took her by surprise. She wasn’t prepared to answer, but quickly ad-libbed. “Well, it seems, you know, that you would be involved.”
“Why’s that?”
She might as well say it. It wasn’t like Dash didn’t know. “You’re sort of good-looking…I mean, women, other women, not me in particular, tend to notice that in a man.”
“They do?”
“Oh come on, Dash, don’t be coy. You know the way women look at you, so it only makes sense that you would, you know, look back.”
“Yes, I suppose it does, but I was up to my eyeballs in work. I’ve only been out of the army two months. I enjoyed military life, but I didn’t want another tour in Afghanistan, and the handwriting was on the wall.”
“You’re avoiding the question.”
He exhaled. “No, I’m not. While in the service I didn’t have time for a serious relationship, and frankly, I wasn’t all that interested.”
Ashley arched her brows and turned her head to look out the window. It’d started to snow. Just a few flakes, not enough for Dash to turn on the windshield wipers—at least not yet.
“What was that look about?” Dash demanded.
Ashley didn’t realize that he’d seen her reaction. “Nothing.”
Dash groaned. “I hate it when a woman says that, because it clearly is something. So don’t give me that ‘it’s nothing’ crap. I want to know what you’re thinking.”
“Fine, I’ll tell you. We all make time for what’s important to us, and clearly a relationship isn’t high on your list of priorities.”
He took a moment to mull that over. “An interesting observation.”
“I’m right, though.” She made it a statement and not a question.
“Basically.”
She smiled, feeling good that he was willing to admit it. A man of his integrity was a rare find. Ashley found it far too easy to fall for him.
“What’s your story?” he asked, turning the tables on her.
“Me?” She pressed her hand against her breast. “We weren’t talking about me. Besides, who says I’m not involved?”
“Are you?”
“Not currently,” she admitted with some reluctance.
“But you were until recently?”
The falling snow started to thicken. “Sort of,” she said, hedging.
“Sort of? What does that mean?”
She wasn’t going to be able to escape this inquisition, and she had no one to blame but herself. She was the one who’d opened this Pandora’s box. “It means,” she said, inhaling deeply, “I was involved and so was he, but apparently not just with me.”
Dash’s face broke into an easy smile.
“I don’t see why you find this amusing,” she muttered. “Trust me, from my point of view it wasn’t the least bit funny.”
“I bet not. How’d you find out?”
Ashley stiffened. He acted like this was all one big joke. “I’m not telling you that.”
“Come on, humor me.”
“No way.”
“Why not? It’s in the past, right?”
“Yes.” She shifted in her seat; this conversation was growing uncomfortable.
“You’re over him?”
Ashley wasn’t sure she wanted to answer that. Her brief relationship with Jackson continued to trouble her. She didn’t know how she could have been so blind. “What makes you say that?”
That smile of his was back and wider than ever. “Because you’re flirting with me.”
The man was infuriating. “I am not flirting with you.” She made sure each word was distinctly enunciated.
He laughed outright. “Yes, you are.”
Ashley’s back went broomstick straight. “Jackson broke my heart.”
“Unlikely.” His tone was flippant.
Now Dash was getting downright irritating. “When did you become an expert on human emotions? I was devastated. Other than classes and work, I spent hours lying on the floor, sobbing and listening to Adele.”
“How long ago did this happen?”
She crossed her arms over her chest and stared straight ahead. “I’m not answering any more of your questions. What happened between Jackson and me is none of your business.”
“Your pride was stung, but you didn’t really love him.”
So he was determined to continue the conversation. “You’re not a nice person, Dash.” She didn’t really believe that, but she wasn’t letting him know otherwise.
“We’ve already established that. Now you know the real reason I’m not in a relationship. I screw it up every time.”
Aha! This was promising. “So you’ve had your own share of heartache.”
“Heartache. That’s a woman’s word.”
“All right, failed relationships.”
“Better. I’ve had a few.”
“Did you cheat?”
“No,” he said, as if it was an insult for her to suggest that he would.
“Forget her birthday?”
“M-a-y-b-e.” He dragged out the word, making it sound as if he’d consider that a minor infraction.
“Come on,” she said, uncrossing her arms and angling her body toward him. “Fess up. Inquiring minds what to know.”
“Apparently, women want to spend every waking minute with a guy. I can’t stand a clingy woman. Unfortunately, those are the ones who are most drawn to me. I like my space. I need my space,” he reiterated. “I don’t want to answer twenty text messages a day or make an excuse to have a beer with a friend.”
“Is this friend male or female?”
“Male.” He tossed her a look that said his answer should have been obvious.
“Okay, continue.” She gestured with her hand, wanting more details.
“I don’t want a woman to follow me to the tennis courts and watch my match, or just happen to run into me when I’m out. It’s too much togetherness. Give me room to breathe.”
“What about men?” she challenged. “They have their own set of issues, one of which is finding a way to keep their zipper in the locked position.”
“Men’s zippers don’t lock.”
“My point exactly.”
He chuckled. “Okay, we can agree men and women each have their own weaknesses.”
“What you said about giving a man his space is interesting.” She was willing to give him that. “I’ve known women like that.”
“Unfortunately, so have I,” he muttered. His hand tightened around the steering wheel, “Something else that really gets me is this incessant need to chatter.”
He was on a roll now. Ashley went quiet as she studied him. While his tone made light of the situation, she could see there was more to it.
“What?” he asked. “You’re looking at me like I’m Little Blade and you want to pet me.”
She smiled. “You’re acting like this is a joke, but you were hurt.” This would be much harder for him to admit.
He didn’t answer for what felt like a long time. “Yeah, I was hurt, but I got over it. You were hurt, too.”
She nodded and found she didn’t want to talk about her breakup. “And for your information, women don’t chatter,” she insisted, righteously defending all women.
“Then tell me why they have to discuss every inconsequential detail of their lives and everyone else’s lives, too. I don’t care who got cut from Dancing with the Stars, or which celebrity couples are dating. And I’m up to here”—he paused and made a cutting motion over the to
p of his head—“with Brad and Angelina. If I wanted to know any of this nonsense, I’d read a tabloid.”
“That tells me you’re dating shallow women. But I’m guessing they’re all really pretty, which also tells me you’re ruled by testosterone.”
“Excuse me?”
“Okay, I’ll put it bluntly: Your brains are located below your belt.”
“That’s possible.”
The snow had started coming down hard now. The car’s wiper blades were hardly able to keep up. It’d grown dark and the driving was becoming more hazardous by the minute.
Concerned with the snow, Ashley gasped when the car skidded, nearly going sideways on the slick road. She braced herself, her hand clutching the door.
“It might be a good idea if we stop for the night.”
The teasing, fun atmosphere vanished. “What about your interview? It’s tomorrow, isn’t it?”
“In the afternoon. We’ll get an early start and I shouldn’t have any trouble making it on time.”
Ashley had to agree, driving conditions had become too hazardous to continue.
Dash took the next exit off the freeway, but instead of heading toward the row of hotels closest to the off-ramp, he continued down the road.
“Where are you going?” Ashley asked.
“I’m looking for a Walmart or a Target so we can get Little Blade a collar and leash. I don’t want a repeat of what happened earlier today.”
“Good idea.” Mentally, Ashley calculated the amount of cash she had with her. She reached for her purse and counted out her cash.
“I’ll pay and you can reimburse me later.”
“I’ll use my debit card.” A warm sensation came over her and she smiled because “later” meant that he fully intended on seeing her after this trip. While he might not have meant anything by it, his words pleased Ashley.
“Do you want to explain why you’re wearing that Cheshire cat smile?” he asked, glancing her way.
“Not really.” She was embarrassed that he’d noticed.
“Do it anyway,” he insisted.
“Oh all right, if you must know…”
“I’m mildly curious.”
Liar. He would hound her until he got the truth out of her. And if she was honest with herself, she certainly wouldn’t mind seeing him after this trip. “Mildly curious or not, I got the feeling, just now, that we might connect, you know, after Christmas.” She sounded nervous and unsure of herself and wished she’d kept her mouth shut.
A smile came and went from his eyes. “Well, duh. We have to get back to San Francisco, don’t we?”
Ashley had forgotten about that. “Actually I…I’d hoped to fly.”
“Good luck with that. In case you’ve forgotten, this is the holiday season and all the flights are probably booked solid—even after the holidays.”
“Right.” The thought of returning with Dash wasn’t unpleasant. She’d look forward to it. “In that case, I won’t mind driving back with you.”
“Big of you,” he teased.
“If you remember, it didn’t start out so great this morning, but I’ve had a change of heart, seeing that you’re so clearly not a serial killer.”
Dash snorted. “I might have pulled the wool over your eyes, you never know,” he teased, and then added, “Besides, it’s clear you think I’m amazing.”
“Excuse me?” She exaggerated each word, laughing. “You’re delusional, but enjoy it while you can.”
“I intend to.” Teasing light brightened his eyes. The electricity between them seemed to grow stronger, she noticed, and she hid a smile, thinking how much she was enjoying being with Dash. This morning she would never have guessed it could be possible for them to travel together and for her to like him this much.
As they continued down the road, businesses lined both sides of the street. Ashley kept a watch for a Target or a Walmart, but as she did her mind mulled over the next few days.
“Dash, if I travel back with you, then that means you’ll spend Christmas in Seattle, right?”
“Yeah. So?”
“So how would you feel about spending Christmas Day with my mom and me? We’d love to have you, and you aren’t going to get a better Christmas dinner. My mother makes the most incredible stuffing.” She was talking fast, unsure of why she should feel hesitant and awkward. “Say, do you know the difference between stuffing and dressing? I just learned this.” Ashley knew she was chattering, which was something Dash said he disliked, but she couldn’t seem to help herself. Dash unnerved her. Worse, she realized it was because she was afraid he would refuse her invitation, and she really wanted him to share Christmas with her and her mother.
“Okay, what’s the difference between stuffing and dressing?”
She noticed he didn’t say anything about the Christmas invite. “Stuffing is cooked inside of the bird and dressing is cooked outside of the bird. Makes sense, doesn’t it?”
“Guess I never thought about it.”
“I know. Me, neither.” She waited for a moment and then asked again: “About Christmas?”
He hesitated. “I’d be happy to join you, but I’d be more comfortable if you talked to your mother about it first.”
“I know my mom, she won’t mind.”
“Talk to her first,” he insisted.
“Okay, I will, but she’ll be happy to include you, seeing how crazy you are about me.”
He chuckled, and soon she found herself smiling, too, as the unease slowly evaporated.
Ashley spotted a Walmart sign and pointed it out. “Up ahead on the right.”
“I see it.” Dash stopped at the light and then made a right-hand turn into the parking lot. A fresh Christmas tree lot took up one side of the asphalt, with multicolored lights strung around the perimeter. The freshly fallen snow weighed down the branches, giving the trees a magical appearance. Ashley loved the scent of fresh trees, but her mother insisted on an artificial one because of the fire hazard.
“You need anything else besides the leash and collar?”
“No…do you think it will take long? I hate the thought of leaving Little Blade alone in the car.” But he’d be warm enough with the sweater wrapped around him.
“He’ll be fine for a few minutes. Once we find a hotel I’ll take him out and walk him. Hopefully the snow and the cold will be enough to cause him to hurry and do his business.”
“I’ll take him out,” she said, although she appreciated his offer. It was cold and miserable, and she was the one who’d adopted the puppy, which he was generous enough not to remind her.
The lot was nearly full and it took a few minutes to find a parking space. Unfortunately, it wasn’t anywhere close to the store, which meant a long trek through the slushy lot. Thankfully, Ashley had worn her boots. Dash offered his elbow and she gratefully wrapped her arm through his. The lot was icy and slippery, and she would have fallen if not for Dash’s hold on her.
“You really are a gentleman,” she teased.
“Just keep telling yourself that,” he joked back.
Ashley smiled. This was turning out to be a grand adventure, and not only because she was beginning to really like Dash, but because she enjoyed the drive as well. Soon they’d be in Seattle, and she felt a little giddy thinking that wouldn’t be the last she’d see of him.
Once inside, Dash grabbed an empty cart.
They passed the sale aisle and right away one of the items caught Ashley’s attention. “Dash, look. Peanut butter is on sale.” She grabbed a jar and placed it inside the cart.
He regarded her skeptically. “You’re buying peanut butter?”
“This stuff is like gold to a grad student. That and Velveeta cheese. I live on peanut butter.”
“That explains a great deal,” he said, shaking his head, mocking her.
Ashley playfully punched his arm and noticed he was smiling. It was hard to pull her gaze away from him. Harder than it should have been.
Dash expertly wove the
m down one aisle and to the next until they reached the pet section. “Look at this,” she said, pointing out a cute little reindeer band with tiny green and red bells made especially for small dogs.
“No way,” Dash said. shaking his head. “You are not going to embarrass Little Blade with that headpiece.”
“But…”
“Would Big Blade wear that?”
Ashley was well aware that Blade would likely do bodily harm to anyone who so much as approached him with anything so ridiculous. “That’s an unfair question.”
“Then you know the answer.”
“What about a Santa hat? Little Blade is a Christmas gift for my mother, you realize.”
Dash refused to answer, and didn’t say anything when she added it to the cart. It didn’t take her long to decide on the collar and leash, a carrier, and a bag of doggie treats, plus a chew toy.
“You ready to check out?” Dash asked when she’d finished clearing out the pet section.
“Okay.”
“You sure you don’t want to check to see if Velveeta cheese is on sale?”
“I’m sure.” She took out the jar of peanut butter and replaced it on the shelf. It was a bit ridiculous to cart that to Seattle and then back to San Francisco.
“No peanut butter and no Velveeta? You’re sure you can make it to Seattle without ’em?” he teased.
Ashley elbowed him in the ribs. Oh yes, she was enjoying Dash’s company far and above anything she could have anticipated.
—
“Are they inside the store yet?” Travis McCurry asked, looking to his best friend, Justin Troup.
“Yeah.”
“You brought the screwdriver, right?”
“Got it.” Justin took it out of his hip pocket and glanced nervously around them. “You sure we won’t get caught?”
“I’m sure.”
“You’ve done this before?”
“No,” Travis murmured, and despite his best effort, his voice lacked confidence. “My dad would shoot me if he knew what I was doing.” Travis’s hand trembled as he approached the rear of the vehicle. He’d waited nearly an hour in the cold, sitting in his car and growing impatient, before the right vehicle turned up. It probably wasn’t necessary to have the same color and same model car, but he wasn’t taking any chances. No one would notice the switch in the license plates as easily, he reasoned, although he had no idea if that was true. It was his fault that he’d gotten into this mess.
Dashing Through the Snow Page 7