Love to Hate You (Hope Valley #9) - Jessica Prince Page 0,37

at the supermarket. With Alex, I might have thrown attitude once in a blue moon, but something about Micah had me on the offensive before a word was even spoken. I lashed out because I wasn’t prepared to feel what I felt every time I saw him. The intensity of it scared the living hell out of me, especially since my marriage had been blown to shreds only months prior.

Still, I’d spent the past few days feeling fifty kinds of terrible for how our last encounter had ended. I’d told myself time and again that I was going to go over there and make it right, but each day I’d chicken out.

“Or maybe he doesn’t wanna be my friend.”

“Or maybe he needs an invite from someone else,” Sylvia added, giving me a look of rebuke. That damn brow was arched again, managing to make her look dignified and judgy at the same time.

I paused, nerves rolling around in my belly like a pinball being smacked to hell by those damn paddles. “Oh, well, uh . . .”

Ivy began jumping in place. “Would you, Mommy? Please, please, pretty please?”

I wasn’t going to win this time, that was for freaking sure, so instead of dragging this out, I relented on a weary sigh. “Fine. I’ll go over and talk to him—but don’t hold your breath,” I added when my girl started to squeal excitedly. I didn’t want her getting her hopes up. “But you guys have to finish stuffing these shells.”

“Okay, Mommy! We can do dat!”

“And don’t touch my sauce.” I pointed right at Sylvia since she was a repeat offender when it came to stuff like this. “I have it exactly where I want it, and I don’t need you going behind me and messing it all up. Got it?”

She held up her hands in surrender. “I won’t touch your precious sauce. Although, I don’t think a few bay leaves would hurt anything.”

Yuck!

“Don’t. Add. Anything,” I stressed. There wasn’t much about Sylvia that wasn’t damn near perfect, but her penchant for putting bay leaves in almost everything definitely was one of her downfalls. Those things smelled and tasted awful. And so help me God, if she put them in my perfect sauce, I was going to lose it.

“All right. All right. Will you just go already? Then you can come back and watch your own damn sauce.” She grumbled that last bit under her breath, purposely loud enough for me to hear.

With nothing else holding me in place, I let out a huff and started out of the kitchen toward the front door.

Chapter Twelve

Hayden

As I walked up Micah’s drive, I noticed that his ranch style home was completely different than my bungalow. Our neighborhood was much older and more established, meaning it wasn’t full of cookie-cutter houses that all looked exactly the same. That was one of the many things I loved about this place.

Back in Richmond, Alex had moved us into a big house in a fancy gated neighborhood where every other house was identical, and every yard had the exact same stumpy, undeveloped trees. There was no originality and absolutely no personality.

I pulled in a deep, bolstering breath and knocked on the front door, trying not to fidget as I waited, hoping he would answer.

Micah’s hair was damp from a recent shower when he came to the door, and the woodsy, spicy scent of his aftershave slammed into me, making heat pool in my belly. “Hayden?” he questioned when all I did was stand there staring like an idiot. “What’s goin’ on?”

“Oh, um . . .” I had to shake my head to get my thoughts back in order. “Sorry, I just . . .” I noticed then that the money he’d given Ivy earlier was still in my hand, so I thrust my arm out. “I believe this is yours.” He looked at the crumpled bills in confusion. “It’s the money you gave Ivy. I wanted to return it to you.”

He looked back to me, his strong, dark brows lifting. “But that was for the swear jar thing.”

I couldn’t stop the smile pulling at my lips. “Yeah, but the swear jar is only for her and me. She knows that.”

He still hadn’t taken the money. “It’s cool. She can keep it. It’s only a few bucks, anyway.”

“No, you don’t understand,” I insisted. “If you don’t take this back, she’ll know she’s got you, and I swear, Micah, she’ll fleece you for everything you’ve got if you aren’t more