like him.
My cheeks flush. “What’s that have to do with me?”
“Oh, I don’t know,” Neely teases. “Dane said you two seemed to hit it off.”
“I don’t know about that,” I say lightly. “I met him this morning, so by the time I saw him at the house, I guess you could say we established a rapport.”
“Which is . . .”
I laugh. “Which doesn’t lead to anyone getting laid.”
Dane comes in and makes a face. “Let’s not talk about you getting laid.”
He moves through the kitchen, kissing the top of Neely’s head as he helps clear the rest of the dinner dishes. They work quietly side by side, the respect and trust obvious between them.
That’s what I want more than anything in the world—more than any job or loaded bank account. I want the look on Neely’s face in this very moment. I want to know what that feels like, and not so much what getting dumped via text feels like.
“What are you thinking?” Neely asks, pouring herself a generous glass of wine.
“That dating is kind of like being in the Colosseum,” I say. “One minute, the crowd is chanting your victory. The next second, a lion is rushing from the gate, ready to rip your heart out.”
“You try too hard,” Dane chimes in. “You try to make these assholes happy and sacrifice your happiness in the process.”
“No one asked you,” I say, reaching for the bottle of wine. I pour myself a small glass as I shove Dane’s observation out of my head.
“For what it’s worth, even though I wasn’t asked,” Dane says, “I think Trevor is a decent enough guy.”
Neely whirls around with a gasp. “Did you just say he was nice? You never like people. Men, specifically.”
“He and I talked some today,” Dane says. “He’s smart and made solid decisions about the job. Seemed pretty nice, and his family is loaded.”
The back door opens, and Dane’s best friend, Penn Etling, strolls in. “Who is loaded?” He runs a hand across his dark hair, his sleeve of colorful tattoos flexing in the light. “Haley’s here. How’s my girl?”
I laugh. “I’m not your girl, Penn.”
“But you could be.”
“You could also wipe the lipstick off your neck from whomever you were just sucking face with before you come trying to sweet-talk me,” I say. His hand clamps his neck, his eyes going wide. “I’m just kidding. You fall for that every time.”
“I was just surprised there was lipstick on my neck since I haven’t sucked face, as you so eloquently put it, with anyone in a while,” he says.
“So two hours?” Neely jokes.
“Try since last night.”
Neely sets down her glass. “Penn, can you learn to knock? Please.”
“I’ll try. Old dog, new tricks, and all that.” He spies the pan of lasagna on the table. “Why did no one invite me for dinner?”
“Because I’ve worked with you all day,” Dane says. “I need a break.”
“That’s what my mom just told me too.” He grabs a breadstick and hops onto the counter. “So what are we talking about?”
“Trevor, I think his name is,” Neely says, keeping an eye on me. “What do you think about him, Penn?”
“I think he’s staying in town tonight,” Penn says. Half the breadstick goes into his mouth.
“He said he was going to see about getting a room at the Dogwood Inn,” I offer. I pick at a crumb on the counter and try not to let it be known I’m interested.
Neely raises a brow. “Should we read anything into you having that information?”
“Ah, Haley. Don’t break my heart,” Penn says, a hand covering the Saint Christopher’s necklace hanging from his neck.
“I didn’t think you had a heart, Penn,” I tease.
“Only for you, babe.”
Neely laughs, taking a seat at the island next to Dane. “Do you have plans to see Trevor?”
“No,” I say, ignoring Penn’s fist pump. “He just mentioned it this afternoon at the library.”
Dane holds up a hand. “Wait. He was at the library? You saw him this morning at the café, at the jobsite, and then at the library?”
“I’m jealous.” Penn shoves the rest of the breadstick into his mouth. “Not fair.”
“He was just driving by the library as I was about to leave. No big deal and not hard to do in this town,” I say, staring at the crumb from Penn’s breadstick in front of me.
While that’s all true, it sounds different out loud. It could be construed that maybe, possibly, it wasn’t a coincidence at the library. That maybe, possibly, he was looking