Things We Never Said (Hart's Boardwalk #3) - Samantha Young Page 0,90
was interested in at the station. She sounded too young, and I told him so.
It was nice, though.
It was beyond nice.
My family was in contact with me all the time, and I couldn’t be more grateful for how easy they’d made it. How quickly they had welcomed me back into the fold. Darragh even let me chat with Levi and Leo the other night, but since they’re kids, talking on the phone was not one of their favorite things.
Still, it was awesome.
What wasn’t awesome was the missed call from Bailey and the following text:
You think Michael deserves better than you? What’s that about?
When I didn’t respond, she sent another:
You’re insufferable. But I love you. I’m here when you want to talk. xx
I text her back with a simple “I love you too.”
I don’t know why I said that about Michael and me. Or maybe I did know. Deep down, perhaps I did.
Rubbing my forehead, I glared at the ring I was working on. Why did Dana Kellerman have to shove her tiny ass into the equation?
“What did that ring ever do to you?”
“Ahhh!” I jumped out of my skin, dropping the mandrel and ring.
Michael stood in the doorway between the store and my workshop, grinning boyishly, mischief in his dark eyes.
As I tried to calm my racing heart, I ignored the anticipation that incited butterflies in my belly. He looked delicious. The stubble on his cheeks had turned into a short beard. In lieu of a jacket, he wore a thick, navy fisherman’s sweater. His detective badge was clipped to the black belt he wore through a pair of dark-wash jeans. Why did he have to be so goddamn rugged and masculine? “How did you get it in? I didn’t hear the bell.”
“The bell sounded,” he said, strolling farther into the room. “You seemed lost in thought.”
I watched him as he rounded the benches until he was standing opposite mine, looking down at me.
Michael’s expression was assessing and tender at the same time. “Did I tell you I like your bangs?”
My fingers automatically touched the hair above my eyes. “Oh.” I didn’t know what else to say. I forgot that when we were younger, I didn’t have bangs. Bailey said my bangs made me look like Zooey Deschanel.
“They’re cute.”
Cute was … well, it wasn’t beautiful or sexy.
As if he could read my mind his eyes dipped down what he could see of my body. I was wearing a floral tea dress that buttoned up the front. It had a low neckline. Michael seemed to more than appreciate my full cleavage. I shivered hotly even before his half-lidded gaze returned to mine. “Sexy and cute. Hard combination to beat.”
He was trying to torture me. “What are you doing here?”
“I missed you.”
“Michael—”
“I’m allowed to miss you. Plus I wanted to make sure the rumors were wrong.”
I frowned. “What rumors?”
“That you and Kell Summers are trying to dress me up like a fuckin’ cartoon and parade me through town.”
Despite myself, I couldn’t help the little smile curling the corners of my mouth. “Well, that rumor is partly true. Kell is trying to do that. Not me. I know you won’t do it.”
“Of course I won’t. Jeff and I have made that clear.”
The thought of Dana with Michael agitated the life out of me, and Michael turning up like this hadn’t given me enough time to formulate a plan to approach the subject with him. “There’s another rumor going around that Dana Kellerman is interested in you.”
He studied me thoughtfully, looking for, I imagined, any sign of my distress over this. I kept my expression neutral.
“What about it?”
“Is it true?”
Michael sighed. “Do you care if it’s true?”
“I care that Dana Kellerman is not a good person. Whatever goes on between us, Michael, I want the best for you. She is not it. She’s far from it.”
“People make mistakes, Dahlia.”
“So, you know what she did?”
“I do.”
“And you think that’s okay?”
His dark eyes flashed. “I think people make mistakes.”
I scoffed. “And the fact that she’s beautiful probably makes it easier to forgive those mistakes.”
“Well, I don’t know. You’re beautiful, and I’ve forgiven you. Is that why? Because you certainly haven’t forgiven me and I have it on your authority I’m pretty fuckin’ hot.”
Any other time, his words would have made me smile. Not now. “What the hell does that mean?”
“You’re holding shit against me, that’s what it means.” He cursed under his breath and turned away with his hands on his hips. “I didn’t come here