"No." He pressed his fingers deep into the skin under my chin.

Touchy-feely Dex? Okay.

"No what?" I blurted out the question like a moron.

He made some sort of disapproving noise in the back of his throat. "I hate it when you look away," Dex murmured. "Quit it."

I widened my eyes but still didn't listen to him.

“Look at me," he insisted. "You pissed again?” he asked in a low voice meant only for me.

There was absolutely no hesitation in my answer. “Yes.”

He groaned. "Babe, f**kin' look at me. I like your wounded deer eyes."

Dick. I shrugged.

Dex slid his thumb down to replace the two fingers beneath my chin, and then swept it across the line of my jaw to nearly my ear. "Please."

God. He got on my nerves. Tired of playing the petulant child and kind of pleased that he'd said the magic word, I finally looked at him. The expression on my face was the best blank one I could muster.

Those cobalt colored eyes shifted from one of mine to the other. Because I'd gotten to know him in my own secret way, I could see the strain on his lips. The strain that told me he was trying really hard not to be amused. “You heard what I said?”

I gritted my teeth. "I'm not deaf."

Oh yeah, he was trying not to smile.

But he forced a slow blink. "And?"

“It's fine that I'm not your cup of tea, Dex, but you don't have to be such an ass about it and tell the entire world." I swallowed. "I don't have friggin' herpes or the Black Plague."

A frown twitched his pink lips, a crease forming between his eyebrows as he looked from one eye to the other again. "Honey." His finger slipped just behind my ear.

"Please go away.”

“No.”

Of course not. I had to try a different tactic. “You're embarrassing me."

What did the asswipe do? He grinned goofy. His good mood apparent over every pore of his face. "I think you're embarrassin' me."

"Oh please," I snorted, tipping my head back out of his reach. "You're just being honest. It's fine. I'm serious. I don't like chocolate, it's kind of the same thing, right?"

His eyes widened for a moment, sweeping leisurely over my face and down to my mouth. "No. It's not, babe." His grinned flattened in a way that spelled trouble. "You don't need to be fishin' for compliments."

"I'm not fishing for compliments!" Was I?

His tongue peeked out to tap his bottom lip. "Seems like it."

What? A shiver wormed its way down my spine. A shiver that I was barely able to control until I felt something soft, hot, and feathery in my throat. “It seems you’re out of your mind.”

He raised a heavy eyebrow. “Why?”

I swallowed hard and leaned further away from him. “Where do you want me to start?”

He looked at me for a little longer than I expected before he laughed that same guttural version I secretly liked. Dex smiled, never losing eye contact even after calming down.

Something changed in his expression. Maybe not even in the contours of his face but in his eyes, something definitely changed just a little. Whatever it was, I liked it.

Plus, I wouldn't get to see much of him pretty soon. The reality that I needed to tell him what was going on made me feel guilty.

I still kind of hated him for being so damn hot.

Especially since he’d decided to let himself all hang out while at the Expo. Unlike his daily attire back in Austin that mainly consisted of t-shirts, jeans, and the occasional gingham print shirt, Dex had shed his normal attire for a black undershirt. A sleeveless black tank that let me see every inch of those cut arms beneath layers of thick ink, and a better view of the red tattoo that went from his back over his shoulder and neck to his chest.

Damn him.

Damn him to hell.

Dex looked at me for a second longer before straightening up and saying, "I’m gonna get goin’ for a while. If someone comes lookin’ for me, call.”

I nodded, knowing that I didn’t have his number but assuming that Slim did.

He paused for a minute, straightening up to his full height before leaning back down and over me. The hot heat of his skin radiated onto mine so intently the warmth of his skin seeped into my muscles. "Son would skin my balls if I let somebody take advantage of his pretty baby sister."

Oh my mother heifer.

As if that wasn't enough, I swear to Mary and Joseph I felt his bottom lip press to the skin over my right temple. "I like it when you're all cute and playful," he added.

And, it was a miracle I didn't croak when he stepped away. What in the hell was that?

When I glanced over in Shane’s direction, he was watching me curiously before taking off with Dex.

Well. That was awkward. And, and, and... holy crap. What was that about cute and playful? It made it sound like he thought of me as a puppy or something. I had to shut down my brain and push what he said out of my head.

Dex is a dick. Dex is a dick. Dex is a dick.

Gah!

I shut the thought in the back of my mind indefinitely.

Debating whether to keep watch at the table or keep my eye on Slim’s masterpiece—for the record, it seemed that everything Slim did was a masterpiece of fine lines, delicacy, and color. All the guys at Pins were really good, some better at certain things than others, but I’d always thought that Slim was the most talented. Maybe tied with Dex when he actually worked but usually he won.

After deliberating my options for a split second, I rolled my chair over to watch him tattoo the guy he had hunched over, working on an old pirate ship right smack on the middle of the man’s brawny shoulder.

I didn’t say a word as I watched him, not wanting to distract him from the man who had been all too excited to request Slim’s work an hour before.

But my friend Slim had other thoughts. His green eyes flashed up at me. “What was that about?”

"Huh?" I played stupid.

Slim pulled the gun off the customer’s skin, dabbing at the beaded blood before continuing with a shake of his head. "Since when are you guys BFFs?"

I’d learned over the last month how chatty all the guys were, well, specifically Slim and Blake. If I answered his question just remotely weird, I’d bet my first born Slim would jump to some kind of crazy conclusion that I wanted no part of. So I went with the truth. “I heard him fart last night. It kind of broke the ice.”

The little whistle he let out told me that was good enough. He snorted and raised an eyebrow before getting back to work. “That’ll do it.”

Chapter Thirteen

I was swooning. Unfortunately it wasn’t because someone had said something sweet—no one had—but because I was bone tired. After the four hours of sleep we’d gotten after the drive, then all of the running around to set up the booth, and finally the nine hours we had to work the Expo, I was crabby and swooning.

And these guys had dragged me to a bar with Dex’s friends.

Apparently no one cared that I was really tired and that I didn’t drink. They especially didn’t care that all I wanted to do was veg out on the bed in the hotel room with a meal that was more than the nachos and stale fries I had to down at the Expo. If I never saw another plate of nachos or another paper plate with over salted fries on it again, it'd be a day too soon.