took another step forward. “Do you have a minute?”
He stared at her through the crack before he slipped the car into park and shut off the engine. He pushed open the door, stepped out, and ran toward the steps. Once on the porch, he shook his head, sending a few drops of water flying before grinning at her. He probably thought he looked sexy.
“What’s up?” he asked. “Like I said, Ben and I had a great time this weekend.”
“Did you make him clean your kitchen again?”
The grin faded. “What do you want, Beth?”
“Don’t get sore. I just asked a question.”
He continued to stare at her, trying to read her. “I don’t tell you what to do with Ben when he’s with you, and I expect the same courtesy. Now what did you want to talk about?”
“A few things, actually.” Despite the disgust she felt, she forced a smile and motioned to the porch swing. “Would you like to sit down?”
He seemed surprised. “Sure,” he said. “But I can’t stay long. I’ve got plans this evening.”
Of course you do, she thought. Either that, or you want me to think that you do. The kind of reminder that had been typical since their divorce.
They took a seat on the swing. After sitting, he jiggled it back and forth before leaning back and spreading his arms. “This is nice. Did you do this?”
She tried to keep as much distance between them on the swing as she could. “Logan put it up.”
“Logan?”
“Logan Thibault. He works for Nana at the kennel now. Remember? You met him.”
He scratched his chin. “The guy that was here the other night?”
As if you don’t know. “Yes, that’s him.”
“And he’s okay with cleaning cages and scooping up crap?” he asked.
She ignored the obvious dig. “Uh-huh.”
He exhaled as he shook his head. “Better him than me.” He turned toward her with a shrug. “So what’s up?”
She considered her words carefully. “This is hard for me to say . . .” She trailed off, knowing it would make him more interested.
“What is it?”
She sat up straighter. “I was talking to one of my friends the other day, and she said something that just didn’t sit right with me.”
“What did she say?” Keith leaned toward her, alert.
“Well, before I tell you, I just want to say that it was one of those rumor mill things. A friend of a friend of a friend heard something, and it eventually got passed on to me. It’s about you.”
His expression was curious. “You have my attention.”
“What she said was . . .” She hesitated. “She said that in the past, you’ve followed me on my dates. And that you told some of them that you didn’t want them to date me.”
She made a point not to look directly at him, but from the corner of her eye, she saw his expression freeze. Not only shocked. Guilty. She pressed her lips together to keep from blowing up.
His face relaxed. “I can’t believe it.” He drummed his fingers on his leg. “Who told you that?”
“It’s not important.” She waved off the comment. “You don’t know her.”
“I’m curious,” he pressed.
“It’s not important,” she said again. “It’s not true, is it?”
“Of course not. How could you even think something like that?”
Liar! she screamed inside, willing herself not to say anything. In the silence, he shook his head.
“Sounds to me like you need to start picking better friends. And to be honest, I’m a little hurt that we’re even having this conversation.”
She forced herself to smile. “I told her it wasn’t true.”
“But you wanted to make sure by asking me in person.”
She heard a tinge of anger in his voice and reminded herself to be careful.
“You were coming over,” she said, trying to sound casual. “And besides, we’ve known each other long enough that we can talk like adults.” She looked at him wide-eyed, the victim of an innocent mistake. “Did it bother you that I asked?”
“No, but still, to even think it . . .” Keith threw up his hands.
“I didn’t. But I wanted to tell you because I figured you might want to know what other people might be saying behind your back. I don’t like them talking about Ben’s father that way, and I said that to her.”
Her words had the effect she wanted: He puffed up with self-righteous pride.
“Thanks for defending me.”
“Nothing to defend. You know how gossip is. It’s the toxic waste of small towns.” She shook her head. “So how’s everything else? Work going well?”