Dean's palms were oily on the wheel.
"The movies, I guess. That okay?"
In the corner of his eye, he saw her shrug. "I guess."
"We don't have to, if you have something else in mind."
The smell of her filled the car, a scent of lavender and something else, something that filled his nostrils and sent a shiver through him that was, alarmingly, not unpleasant.
"Maybe we could go down to the pier."
"What's down there?"
"Nothing much, but I like it. It's peaceful."
And secluded, Dean added and remembered Len's theory on what she might be expecting from him.
"Sounds kind of boring to me," he said then, aware that it was hardly the polite thing to say but wary of letting the night slip out of his control.
To his surprise, she smiled. "I used to think that too."
"What changed your