Tangle

by Locke, Adriana

  “No,” she says. “Not married. Never engaged. And now I’m on a dating hiatus.”

  “You’re on a dating freeze? Does this have anything to do with the hippie?” I ask.

  Dane winces. “Do I want to know how he knows about Joel?”

  “He sent me a text.” She rolls her eyes. “Apparently, he’s lonely.”

  “If you have a date with him, I win,” Dane warns. “And while I really wouldn’t care if you dated someone you really liked, please don’t let it be Joel.”

  I lean against my truck as Haley bites her lip. The back of my neck tightens as I watch her in this little standoff with Dane. I’d love to give my two cents about her dating this guy, a guy I don’t know but still feel pretty opposed to for personal reasons.

  Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she sighs. “No. I don’t have a date with Joel. But I really do have to go. Wanna follow me to my car and grab Mia’s outfit?”

  “Sure,” Dane says.

  I watch them walk away, unable to make out the words of their conversation. Trickles of Haley’s voice float on the breeze and twist around my gut.

  Her brows furrow as she listens to something Dane’s saying. She watches him as if she’s hanging on every word. I take a step toward them, as if I have some right to interject myself into their conversation, before I stop. Because I don’t. As comfortable and strangely familiar as it is with her, she’s still a woman I met an hour ago.

  Slipping my hands into my pockets, I shove off my truck and meander around the front of it. A massive horsefly is flattened on the grille. I bend down and inspect it like it’s the most interesting thing in the world. Otherwise, I’ll keep peeking over the side of the truck at Haley, and that’s just weird.

  “Hey, Trevor!” Haley’s voice rings through the air.

  I hop up like a damn bunny to see her leaning on the open car door, a hand on her hip.

  “Yeah?” I ask, reflecting her smile back to her.

  “If you’re afraid of gravel roads, take a right when you leave here. It’ll take you an extra ten minutes to get back to town, but you won’t have to drive like a geezer.”

  “Don’t you have somewhere to be?” I ask.

  Her chest rises, as if reality just caught back up with her, and she nods. “See ya around.”

  “Later, Ohio,” I say.

  She climbs into the car, does a quick three-point turnaround, and is gone way too soon.

  Dane trudges up the hill, an amused look on his face. “Do I need to worry about you?”

  “Worry about me? Why?” I drag my gaze from the driveway to the man at my right.

  “There’s a certain look on your face that I happen to know intimately.”

  My brows pull together. “I don’t know what you mean.”

  Dane wipes his forehead with the back of his hand. “She’s a great girl. I love her like a little sister. She’s taken care of my baby—hell, she’s taken care of me—for the last few years.”

  “I can see her doing that.”

  “Yeah. She’s feisty but as sweet as they come, and that sweetness gets her in trouble sometimes.” He stands still, weighing his words. “Look, she can do what she wants. But you and I both know you’re not here long, so don’t play her out, okay? If you want a girl to entertain you while you’re in town—”

  “Hey,” I say, holding my hands up. “I have no intentions of playing anything or anyone.”

  He doesn’t look convinced. “Do what you will. She’s a big girl. But if you do anything to make her cry”—he grins before heading up the hill—“I’ll ruin your poodle spa.”

  “Hey, now,” I say, following him. “Let’s keep the poodle spa out of this.”

  He stops at the top of the hill and faces me. There’s a hint of trepidation on his face. We watch each other closely.

  “All joking aside,” I say, “Haley’s cool. And I respect you protecting her. But when it comes to me, you just have one thing to be worried about.”

  “What’s that?”

  I start toward the house, looking at Dane over my shoulder. “You’re going to be in over your head on the puppy suite.”

  “The puppy suite?”

  I step onto the stoop. “Wait until you see these sketches.”

  Dane mumbles under his breath as he steps inside. After a quick glance at the spot Haley’s car occupied near the tree, I follow him.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  HALEY

  I survey the desk littered with book requests, pens, and file folders. This space was the first spot in Dogwood Lane to feel like home. It feels like the end of an era as I toss my personal effects into my bag.

  I was welcomed here with open arms the year Mia started all-day preschool. While I never considered I’d stay here forever, it was comfortable. Even though it was unsatisfying from time to time, I wasn’t in a hurry to leave. I didn’t even jet out of here after getting let go—I stuck around most of the day, helping to get things organized and making sure Sandra, my boss, knows where the files are that she will be needing. Now that I have to leave, my stomach is a little unsure.

  “I’m so sorry, Haley,” Sandra says. She stops at the front desk, her eyes full of concern. “I did not want to tell you I had to let you go. That’s the hardest time I’ve ever had giving someone news like that.”

  “It’s not your fault. The budget got cut, and to be honest with you, Sandra, I’d rather they trim some of us than shut the whole place down.”

  Her eyes fill with tears again. “I know. Me too. But I’m so scared that’s what’s going to happen, Haley. The town isn’t growing anymore, and the tax base is shrinking. They just refuse to see the value in the library over filling potholes in the road.”

  I circle the desk and pull her into a hug. “It’ll be all right. I know it. I don’t know how, exactly, but I know it will.”

  Her perfume reminds me of my mother’s, the soft fabric of her dress providing the comfort I imagine my mother would give me too. Losing Mom so long ago is a wound that’s never quite healed.

  “You are such a bright light in the world.” Sandra pulls back and touches the side of my face. “If you ever need anything at all, you let me know. You hear me?”

  “Of course. And if you need anything, you know where to find me.”

  I head around the desk and stuff my favorite mug rug into my bag. Sandra brushes her fingers over a waxy plant sitting next to it.

  “I hope we don’t kill these with you being gone,” she says. “You’re so good with them.”

  “Just don’t water them too much. That’s where you go wrong.”

  She laughs. “You know, I heard Jennifer is hiring at the flower shop.”

  “Really?” I look up. “I might check that out.”

  “It could be a good fit.” Tears fill her eyes again. “We’re going to miss you around here.”

  I move around the desk and hug her again. I know she’s going to miss me, but I also know the tears are about a lot more than this being my last day. They’re the result of a stressful day of letting go of people she cares about and feeling terrible about it.

  I get it. I’ve thought about looking for a job a hundred times over the last couple of years—just something different and more challenging. But I didn’t because I didn’t want to hurt her feelings. Funny how that works.

  “I’ll come by to visit,” I say, pulling back. “Besides, I’ve put so many romances on the shelves just because I wanted them, I have to come in to borrow them.”

  Sandra wipes her eyes. “I do the same thing, but with thrillers. Perks of the job.”

  “Thanks for everything, Sandra. Not just for the job but also for teaching me to crochet last winter. And that tip on hard-boiling eggs. Game changer right there.”

  “It’s one of my best-kept secrets.” The smile fades from her face as I hoist my bag onto my shoulder. “Take care of yourself. Come see me. And call me if you need anything.”

  With a final smile and a little nod, I he
ad toward the front. Nathaniel, a little ginger-headed boy, sits on a tiny stool. He looks up from a book and waves. I raise my hand before looking away.

  My heart twists in my chest as I push open the heavy doors. I rustle through my bag for my keys, and the cool air hits my face as I step outside.

  “Hey.”

  I look up when I hear a familiar voice.

  Trevor’s truck idles up behind me, the engine purring as he puts it in park. One arm hangs out the window, his fingertips strumming against the black paint.

  My heartbeat ramps up, purring right along with Trevor’s truck’s engine. I take in the glimmer of mischief in his eyes and drop my keys on the pavement.

  “Before you say a word, I was just driving through town and saw the library,” he says.

  “That makes total sense,” I say, picking up my key ring. My stomach somersaults at the smirk he throws my way. “You just drove by and found the library so interesting you pulled in. Got it. What book are you looking to check out? I have an in if you want to request something specific.”

  He bites his lip, a dimple settling into his left cheek. “I was thinking one on the best bed-and-breakfasts in the area might be helpful.”

  “Are you staying in town?”

  “Yes. Meredith’s changes are pretty overwhelming, and there are a lot of them. Dad and Meredith are hell-bent on moving in right after he retires in a couple of weeks, so I need to make sure there are no hiccups.”

  “Look at you, being all logical. I have to say, I had you pegged as someone more . . .”

  I tap my chin, looking at him like I’m unsure how to describe my thoughts. The word I want is on the tip of my tongue. But the longer I look at the muscles that stretch from his shoulders up the sides of his neck and the way the skin bunches at the corners of his eyes when he’s ready to laugh, the word seems to vanish into thin air.

  “Someone what?” he prods.

  “Someone more impulsive,” I say, throwing out the first word that comes to me.

  His eyes light up. “I think you’re projecting. If I remember the details correctly, and trust me when I say not one slipped by me, you were the one bent over a bar this morning for a pastry.”

  I turn away as he laughs. My cheeks are on fire—not because of his words, but from the look on his face. Like he does remember what I looked like and maybe, just maybe, he didn’t mind it.

  “Guess I was right,” I say, hitting the unlock button. My trinkets jingle inside my bag as I toss it in the back seat. “You aren’t a gentleman.”

  When I turn around to face him again, the levity is gone. He’s watching me with a somberness that roots me in place. “Can I ask how today went? Or is that something people who just met this morning don’t ask?”

  “Are you trying to be courteous now?”

  He shrugs. “Not really. I just . . . wondered.”

  I lean against my car and tug my sweater around me. “Budget cuts made them get rid of all expendable items and positions, and I, unfortunately, am expendable.”

  “That’s a terrible thing to say.”

  “It’s not terrible if it’s true.” Sandra’s comment about the flower shop flutters through my mind, carrying a bubble of excitement with it. “I like to think that when one door closes, another opens. I just have to find the door, I guess.”

  “Look at you, being all logical,” he teases, throwing my words back at me.

  “I don’t know what else to do. This is an opportunity to do something else. That’s how I have to look at it, and not like it’s a strain on my doughnut budget.”

  He grins. “God forbid something hurts your doughnut affair.”

  “Right?”

  He shifts in his seat, his fingers rewrapping around the steering wheel. “How about we have an early dinner and discuss this more in depth? I bet you’re a little more sensitive than you’re letting on, and being that I know a ton about budgets, I could probably make you feel good about everything before the night was said and done.”

  “Is that what you tell all the ladies?” I wink.

  He laughs. “Touché.”

  Despite the way his offer tempts me and causes a flicker of excitement to jump in my belly, sharing a meal with him would be a giant, gorgeous distraction I don’t need.

  “I better not. I have a lot of thinking to do,” I say. “As a matter of fact, I’m canceling on Claire tonight too. I just need to be alone for a while.”

  “Fair enough. But if you ever want to talk budgets, I’m your guy. Or if you want to go over ways to feel good . . .”

  I laugh, rolling my eyes at his invitation. “I’m good. Thanks. I took some college classes in accounting, so I get it. Budgets are budgets.”

  “You’re a math geek like me?”

  “No,” I scoff. “I just took some general classes. Dad is an accountant, so I had a built-in tutor.”

  “You were almost perfect.”

  “I’ve heard that a time or two. Thanks for the offer, though.”

  “Yeah. Sure.” He cocks his head to the side. “What do you think you’ll do from here?”

  “Heck if I know. That’s why I said I have a lot of thinking to do. The world is my oyster, even though I don’t really understand that analogy.”

  He smiles brightly. “Well, if you’ve read The Merry Wives of Windsor, Shakespeare uses it to mean taking what you want by force or violence.”

  “And how did you know that?”

  He laughs, pointing at himself. “Nerd. Remember?”

  He gazes into the distance. I gaze at him. There’s something even sexier about him now, something I can’t quite shake.

  Something that completely and utterly rules out me going anywhere alone with him right now.

  “You’re staring again.”

  I jump at his voice. “I wasn’t staring,” I lie. “I was thinking about something else.”

  “Oh, I’m sure you were.”

  “Actually,” I say, thinking on my feet, “I was pondering this new chapter in my life.”

  He glances in his rearview mirror. A car pulls into the parking lot but takes a spot behind him. He turns his attention back to me and studies me for a long time, the weight of his attention on me almost cozy.

  “What’s your biggest dream?” he asks out of nowhere.

  “I don’t know. What’s yours?”

  His forehead creases as he pops his bottom lip between his teeth. He works it back and forth for a minute. “I think I’m living it. As lame as that sounds.”

  “Why?” I press.

  “I’m my own boss, more or less. I deal with numbers all day. I work with my brother. Sometimes I get to go outside and play in the dirt.” He grins an easy, simple-yet-heated smile that turns my core into mush. “Sometimes I run into beautiful women who refuse to have dinner with me. Now your turn.”

  I swallow, trying to wrangle my wits from his grasp. “I’m not sure, to be honest. But you know what? I do need to go.”

  There’s a cloud that passes over his eyes. It dims the sparkle only for a moment, but it’s long enough for me to notice.

  My stomach flops, wishing I could climb into his truck and continue this conversation. But what’s the point in that?

  “Fine,” he teases, the light back in his eyes again. “Your loss.”

  Probably so.

  I smack his arm, my palm connecting with his wrist. A giggle escapes my lips but gently rolls away as our eyes meet.

  My hand drops to my side, still warm from the contact. I clear my throat.

  “So,” he says, clearing his, too, “when I rolled in, I saw a sign for the Dogwood Inn. Is that open?”

  “Yeah. It’s open most of the year. I bet you can find a room. Just plan on 1980s decor. It’s way old school in there.”

  His eyes go wide. “What are my other options?”

  “Drive about twenty minutes back the way you came into town and stay there.” I shrug. “We have one place here. Just be glad it’s not hunting season. You’
d be out of luck.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Seriously.” I open my door and stick my keys in the ignition. “If you stay in town, just remember that everything closes before ten o’clock. If you need food or whatever, grab it while you can. And,” I say, getting into my car, “if Lorene offers you a slice of pie, take it.”

  He puts his truck in drive. “Is that an innuendo?”

  I snort. “Tell you what—you meet Lorene and then decide what I meant.”

  “Are you setting me up?”

  I just laugh, imagining his face when he meets the ninety-year-old church pianist at the inn.

  He leans out the window ever so slightly, his hand extended my way. “Are you sure I can’t take you for some ice cream? Or pizza? Or whatever? All joking aside, I feel like you’ve had a rough day, and I just don’t want you going home and feeling like crap.”

  My heartbeat picks up. The cab of my car feels overly warm as I sit beneath his gaze. “I’m sure. Thank you for offering, though.”

  His lips part as if he’s going to say something, but they close. He switches his sight onto something in front of him before looking back at me again. “Drive like you have some sense.”

  “Try to go the speed limit.”

  He shakes his head and pulls away.

  CHAPTER SIX

  HALEY

  Do you want to take some of this home?” Dane asks. He holds up the pan half-full of lasagna. “Neely made enough to feed a small army. We have more than enough left.”

  “I’m so full that I never want to see lasagna again,” I say, rubbing my stomach. “It was really good, Neely.”

  She beams. “Thank you. It’s my mom’s recipe. It makes a mess of the kitchen, but it’s worth it.”

  “That’s why you have Mia,” I say, elbowing the little girl in the side. “Make her clean it up.”

  “Hey,” Mia protests. “I have homework to do.”

  Dane tugs her ponytail as he walks by. “Then you better put Haley’s phone down and get upstairs and do it. Otherwise, start rinsing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher.”

  Mia makes a face, drops my phone into my lap, and sprints up the stairs. As her steps grow fainter, my heart squeezes.