Chapter 65: Benji

The car turned off, and Benji closed the distance to the driver's side, grabbing the door and opening it for her. She tipped her head up those sharp, intelligent eyes of hers focused on him. It felt as though she were slicing layers back until she could see deep into him. If he had anything to hide, she'd see it.

Yeah, drunk Dixie and sober Dixie were different people.

"Good evening," he drawled, leaning an arm on the door. "I wasn't sure you were coming."

Dixie didn't answer right away. She pushed to her feet, rising to just below his chin. Her hair was tamed and pinned into place in an over the shoulder, complicated braid thing. Instead of the fuck me heels and sexy witch outfit she wore a high-necked, loose blue tank top and denim capris that hid all those luscious curves she'd had on display the previous weekend. Too bad he hadn't been able to admire her in all her glory. He was willing to bet it had been a sight to behold.

What were the chances she'd wear it again?