“It’s been a long night,” he cut her off, with a gentle smile. “You should get some rest.”
Her mom must have seen Hallie’s disappointment, because she blocked Dakota’s path to the exit. “Tomorrow, then,” Valerie declared. “She’ll be rested then. You can come by anytime.”
For once, Hallie didn’t care about her mom’s interference, because Dakota smiled at Hallie. “Definitely.” He turned to the rest of them with a polite nod. “Good night.”
The door closed behind him. There was a pause, and then Hallie was smothered in an avalanche of voices.
“My poor baby!”
“Isn’t he cute?”
“God, could you be any more self-centered? We were all worried sick!”
Hallie ignored them all, gazing after Dakota. “I’m going to bed,” she said dreamily. His jacket was still draped around her shoulders, smelling faintly of smoke and spices and him. “See you all in the morning.”
“Hallie!” Grace squawked in annoyance.
“The doctor said I need to rest.” She wandered back through the house, leaving the crowd of chatter behind. Let them be dramatic and have their big scene, she had more important things to think about.
Like the new love of her life.
As promised, Dakota dropped by to see her the next morning, and found Hallie reclining on a shaded lounge chair by the pool in her best sundress, her hair painstakingly straightened into a glossy sheet. She’d been there since nine, just to be safe — arranged at what she hoped was a pretty angle, clutching her copy of Another Bullshit Night in Suck City, but too excited to focus on a single sentence. Every time the gate clattered open, she couldn’t help but whip her head around to check. Since it was Julio’s day to prune the roses, Hallie’s neck ached by the time Dakota finally strolled up the garden path, but just the sight of him — black jeans and a V-neck shirt, hair ruffled in windswept curls — made her forget even the minor tendon ache.
“He’s here!” she breathed. Grace — seated beside her, stealing mango from her restorative fruit platter — rolled her eyes.
“You don’t say.”
Hallie ignored her. “Hi!” she called as he sauntered closer. “I completely forgot you were coming over.”
Grace snorted. Hallie shot her a warning look.
“Hey.” Dakota leaned down to kiss her cheek — the L.A. way, as Hallie was learning — and then presented her with a small posy of flowers. “I picked these. And for you, too,” Dakota added, passing another posy to Grace.
Grace’s expression softened in surprise. “Oh. Thanks.”
“Grace can’t stay,” Hallie said quickly, sending her a pleading look. “She’s busy, right?”
Grace glanced back and forth between Hallie and Dakota, before finally giving Hallie a begrudging smile. “Right.” She got up. “But thanks for these.”
“That was sweet,” Hallie told him as Grace headed back into the guesthouse. “I bet she’s never gotten flowers before.”
“I know they’re not fancy or anything . . .” Dakota trailed off, eyes going to the excessive display of orchids Brandon had brought over earlier, perched in a cut-glass bowl in the middle of the table.
“No, I love them!” Hallie exclaimed. “Wild flowers are better than stuffy florist bouquets, they’re so pretty. Natural.” She yanked Brandon’s flowers out of the water and tossed them aside, arranging Dakota’s posy in their place. “There.”
Dakota folded himself onto the lounger next to hers and picked up Hallie’s book. “He’s one of my favorites,” Hallie explained quickly. She’d almost picked out Kerouac, but figured Dakota would be more of a modern, edgy guy.
She was right. Dakota’s smile got wider. “Me too!” He flipped through the dog-eared pages. “I read this years ago, but I lost my copy.” He passed it back to her. “Maybe I could borrow it when you’re done?”
“Take it now,” Hallie insisted. “I’ve read it tons of times.”
“You sure?”
“Absolutely.” Hallie pushed it into his hands. “Then you can tell me what you think.”
“Our own private book club,” Dakota suggested with another heart-stopping grin, and Hallie had to stifle a sigh.
He was still perfect.
She’d known he would be, of course she had, but in the two hours she’d been waiting there, a tiny niggle of doubt had crept into Hallie’s mind. What if she’d been suffering some post-traumatic stress episode brought on via saltwater inhalation — built him up in her mind to unfathomable heights — and in the cold harsh light of day he turned out to be nothing more than a wannabe rock star with a taste for dirty denim?
But he was there, beside her now, just as magnificent as she’d remembered. More so, even, because her memory couldn’t contain the intensity that radiated from him, or the dark mischief in his eyes. . . .
“Yooo-hooo!” Amber’s high-pitched voice echoed across the lawn. She was on the back patio, phone to her ear. “Don’t you two move,” she called. “I’ll be right out!” She waved, then disappeared back inside.
Hallie gulped. “You know, I’m feeling kind of restless.” She turned to Dakota. “And I should really take the dogs out.” He didn’t miss a beat.
“How about a walk?” he suggested, a knowing smile tugging the edge of his lips.
They strolled the leafy streets for hours: Marilyn and Monroe scampering at their heels, Hallie’s hand tucked in the crook of Dakota’s arm like they were an old-fashioned couple. They talked about everything she could think of — words tumbling out in an excited stream. She couldn’t help herself, she needed to know everything about him.
“High school,” Hallie demanded.
Dakota made a face. “Endless. Frustrating. Limited. Done.”
She laughed. “Me too.”
“No way,” he told her. “You were the most popular girl in school, I can tell. Homecoming queen. Most likely to succeed, all that stuff.”
“No!” Hallie protested. He gave her a dubious look. “Well, OK, maybe I was popular,” she admitted, “but that didn’t mean it mattered to me. I always felt . . . different. Like the things I wanted, they’d never understand.”
“Like what?” Dakota turned.