I assume that means you’ll be at the Piney Falls autumn festival. Justine organized it, after all, and it’s about time she show up with a nice man on her arm.”
Burke nodded; it was easier than forcing his lips to agree.
Another moment passed as the old man scrutinized him and Justine in turn, a dissatisfied pinch in his brow. “You two find a cat or something?” He nodded to the fresh grave.
“Yes,” Justine said, wrapping her hands around Burke’s elbow. They felt nice there. Warm and comforting. Burke needed it in the moment of chaos. His heart still hadn’t calmed its rapid beat.
“She didn’t have a collar,” Justine continued. “I figure she’s from one of the farms beyond Twenty-Sixth Street. We found her up there.”
Wait, it wasn’t Justine’s cat?
The old man nodded as his expression softened. “I’m Wilfred, by the way.”
“Nice to meet you, Wilfred. Finally, I mean,” he added, clearing his throat. “Justine has told me a lot of great things about you.”
“I’ve heard about you, too,” he said. “Dinner, tomorrow. My place. Is six o’clock okay?”
Burke felt like a school kid on the porch with his date’s dad. “I wouldn’t miss it,” he assured.
“Good then. See you kids later.”
Tension drained from Burke’s body as Wilfred hobbled back toward the swinging gate. Questions were piling up in his mind.
Whose cat had they just buried? And did Justine really have some long-distance fiancé or had she just made him up?
Answers to those questions would only lead to more questions. Like, why would a woman like Justine invent a fake boyfriend? Or if he really did exist, why would she put up with some jerk who didn’t have time for her?
Justine must’ve been deep in thought as well. She too stayed quiet as they watched Wilfred shuffle further down the road. Slowly then, he pulled his eyes off the distant view and glanced down at the beauty by his side. She was looking at him, intently, as if she might discover the inner workings of his mind by observation alone.
“Why did you do that?” Her hands slipped from their place at his arm and flew up in question at either side.
She was angry? “Why did I do that? Why did you do that?”
Justine glanced over her shoulder before replying. “All I did is let him think his assumption about you was correct. I didn’t promise anything.”
Burke considered that. “Oh.”
“At least with my story—that you were only passing through town—you didn’t look like a liar.”
Burke could hardly believe his ears. “A liar by going along with it?”
“No, a liar for not showing up to all the stuff you said you’d come to.”
He shook his head, dumbfounded as he grasped for a response. “You act like we discussed this in advance or something. I was trying to help.”
Justine folded her arms across her chest and huffed out a sigh. “I know.” It was meant to sound understanding, he knew that much, but her tone said she was seriously ticked off.
“And I might not have looked like a liar by keeping quiet, but I would have definitely looked like a jerk by refusing to stick around for a few days.” Burke took a step back and sank one hand into his pocket. “You owe me the story behind this now.”
Her jaw stiffened. “I do not.”
“Yes, you do,” he argued, an astonished laugh sneaking up his throat. “You definitely owe me some details if you expect me to show up to dinner tomorrow night.”
Her chin dropped now too. She leveled a disbelieving look at him. “You would not actually show up to dinner for me.”
“I might,” Burke said, surprising himself as much as he was her. “If you agree to tell me how all this started.” He kept his eyes trained on her, enjoying the way those inner wheels turned.
She lifted a hand to her hip and narrowed her eyes. Spots of heat flickered low in his belly as he held her gaze in return.
Attraction. That’s what this was. There was something between them; he could feel it. It had been a long while since he’d felt this sort of attraction, and even longer since it hadn’t made him want to run.
“Promise?” she asked. “If I tell you…do you promise you’ll come tomorrow night?”
That look—so pleading. And those eyes…she could be asking him to jump off the Manhattan Bridge and his answer would still be the same. “Absolutely.”
“Why?” Her brow scrunched up. “You don’t have anything to gain.”