team back in high school. We got third place in state.”
Bree popped her hip out as her eyebrows rose. “Oh really? Is that so?”
“If we could, maybe, find a pool—” Gerald began.
“Like the one that’s open at Virginia High Tuesday through Friday from four to seven and every Saturday from nine to one?” Bree said, and then shrugged. “Because I’ve heard that’s a good one.”
Bree left the two of them and moved to the dining room, knowing her job was done. They could handle the details of their date without her hovering.
With one major checkmark on the day’s to-do list done, Bree snagged her plate from the dining room and moved to the kitchen. She leaned against the counter with her plate and glanced through the window. Chip stood there inside his own house, moving around his own kitchen.
She would’ve surrendered some of her frustration with him, even just momentarily, had the sign not caught her eye.
Still there. Mocking her.
YOU’VE GOT MAIL.
PS: THANKS FOR THE SERENADE
Of course, she was well aware she started the paper-to-window memos. If THIS ISN’T OVER for Bree, then apparently it wasn’t going to be for him either. Bree took a brooding sip of the now lukewarm coffee and began to list Chip’s faults in her head. First the rude driving, then the water line, then the repeated assaults from his dog, then the fact he lied to her about the Invisible Fence, then knocking on her door at three in the morning to give her the fake message that he had moved it, then daring to chuckle to himself every single time something bad happened to her because of him . . .
She wasn’t losing her mind, was she? He really had put up that sign, even if no one else was there to see it. He was toying with her. And what had she done so far? What had been her act against him? Nothing. Just a single, tiny little episode involving music and tap dancing.
If she could just figure out how to drive him half as crazy as he was driving her.
For that matter, if she could only get that man to leave.
After all, he was one of those McBride sons; he probably owned dozens of properties all over town. If she could just get him to change his mind about his so-called treasure of a home. Just make him flip the house to some far less annoying owner—like a family with eight kids, or an aspiring tuba player—well, she’d be doing everyone a favor. He could make loads of money selling it and find himself a nice residential house somewhere far, far away. He with his holey T-shirts and alluring five-o’clock shadows could marry Ashleigh, and they could move together into the country.
Where they could have perfect shiny-haired, brown-eyed babies together.
If only there were some way to make him less comfortable—
Bree’s eyes narrowed as she watched him. The way he stood at the sink the last several minutes, staring out thoughtfully, coffee in hand, like her. The way he looked at the mountains. The—her eyes followed his—perfect panoramic view of the Appalachian Mountains.
Bree set her mug on the counter so hard the coffee jostled and spilled a bit.
“Where are you going?” Evie said gruffly, moving into the kitchen. “We’ve got some talking to do—”
“We’ll talk in a minute,” Bree said, snatching her keys off the key post and yanking the door open. She turned quickly to Evie. “Evie. What does your lifestyle book say about planting trees?”
“Trees? How are you going to pay for trees?”
“I’m not!”
Chapter 14
Chip
Chip woke up Friday morning smiling.
He went down the stairs, whistling “Singin’ in the Rain,” smiling.
He hummed along as he made his breakfast, smiling.
And when he opened up his email at the start of the workday to find the inbox sitting at eighty-two new emails from places like Women’s World saying, “Thank you for joining our daily newsletter! See below for 52 Easy Steps to Melting That Belly Fat Away,” his smile grew into laughter.
“Touché,” Chip murmured, taking pains to scroll to the bottom of each email and unsubscribe. And the ones with the dodgy unsubscribe buttons . . . Oh, it was clever.
Chip paused halfway down one. Scanned the paragraph. Paused on the phrase, “With our 100 percent natural clay and seaweed hair removal cream, you can remove stubborn, overgrown hair from your legs in minutes.” Clicked Forward. Swiftly typed in her email.
Wrote beneath the subject, “I think this one was meant for you? I’m