Tangle (Dogwood Lane 2)

“Why can’t she just forget about me? Wait,” I say, stopping myself. “I know why she can’t forget me.”

“Oh, here we go.” Haley sighs.

I walk to the back section of the yard, where the top of the hill starts to decline. From here, I can see a field of wildflowers tucked behind a line of trees, and I wonder what it would look like in the spring. “I bet you would like this view,” I tell her.

“Where are you?”

“My dad’s house.”

“I’ve seen it. Remember? And it is breathtaking.” She stops abruptly. “Can I tell you something, though?”

“Sure.”

“That house is way too big. It’s almost a city. I have no clue why anyone would need a house that big.”

I look at the structure towering over me from behind. The wraparound deck only adds to the girth of the thing, and I wonder how many people Meredith will hire to clean this one.

“Big is a gentle way of putting it,” I say. “I’d go with enormous.”

“You still talking about the house?”

“Look at you,” I tease. “Your mind going straight to the gutter. I’m shocked, but I love it.”

“Yeah, well, I got a good night’s sleep, so I’m a little feistier than normal today.”

I imagine her lying in bed, hair sprawled out on the pillows. I wonder if she talks in her sleep and if she moves around like I imagine she does or if she lies quietly in one place.

“Thanks for the warning,” I say.

“Speaking of warnings, where do you plan on running into me today?”

I laugh, facing the meadow again. I’ve thought about that very thing all day. It’s a weird preoccupation. It’s just so easy, so amusing, to be with her. I can’t help it. “I thought I could actually pick you up properly tonight. I mean, you’re having dinner with me, anyway.”

The line goes quiet. She shuffles some papers, and I think I hear a door opening.

Her lack of response sends a weird vibe through my body. I pace a small circle and wait for her to respond.

I get nothing. The longer it goes, the more nervous I get. It’s like there’s actually a chance of getting shot down.

“Haley?” I say finally.

“You really meant that?” Her voice has an edge to it, the humor of a moment before gone.

My stomach twists. I switch the phone between my hands and take a deep breath. “Yeah, I meant it. I thought we had dinner plans. But if you don’t want to—”

“No,” she says quickly, “I do.”

My shoulders fall back as my lungs expel the air they were holding. “Well, good. What time do you usually eat?”

“Whenever,” she says. The caution in her tone is unmistakable.

“Okay. What do you like to eat? Besides doughnuts and ice cream.”

“Anything, really.”

“For a woman who’s typically so opinionated, you’re awfully quiet right now.”

She laughs. “Sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. Just answer the question.”

“Fine. I like everything except sushi because raw fish just seems barbaric. Oh—I also don’t love lobster rolls, although I wish I did because they’re gorgeous. And I refuse to eat anything that was ever on the inside of an animal, but that doesn’t really qualify as food, I don’t think, so that probably doesn’t matter. Otherwise, I like everything. Except hot dogs because I watched a show on them once and it ruined me for life.”

My laugh rolls through the air. A flock of birds takes flight out of a grove of pines below. I watch them take to the sky and appreciate how free they are to go about their business without any chains to the ground.

“So basically you like steak and burgers,” I say. “Got it.”

She swallows hard. “I’ll be ready at seven? Does that work for you?”

“Sounds perfect.”

I think she’s smiling by the way she takes a quick breath of air. This makes me grin like a loon.

“Can I ask you a question?” she asks.

“Sure.”

“Where are we going?”

“I can’t tell you,” I say, grinning wider.

“Come on, Trevor. I need to know how to dress.”

I turn toward my truck, wondering how long it is until seven. “Pants. A shirt. Unless you like dresses, then that will work.”

“That’s no help.” She groans.

“See you at seven,” I say.

“Trevor—”

“Goodbye, Haley.”

Tucking my phone in my pocket, I feel it chirp with another text.

Before speaking to Haley, I would have considered tossing the phone. Yet somehow, this little sprite from Nowhereville Lane waved her crazy magic wand, and I just don’t care. This time, I don’t even care a little.

“I also don’t love lobster rolls, although I wish I did because they’re gorgeous.”

No, Miss Haley Raynor, you’re the gorgeous one in this equation.

CHAPTER TWELVE

HALEY

You’re going where?” Claire shouts through the phone. “I knew it! I knew there was something between you. My Spidey senses were telling me.”

“You don’t know anything,” I say, taking a glimpse at myself in the mirror.