Tangle (Dogwood Lane 2)

Jake comes around the corner, locking eyes with me for a split second before glancing up at his brother. “Hey, Trev. Dad wants to see us real quick.”

I heave a sigh of relief. “You better go.”

Before I can react, Trevor takes my hand and pulls me with him. It takes me two steps to match his one.

My heart shoves blood down my veins at double the speed it should. That, in combination with Trevor’s hand against mine, makes me a little light-headed, and I’m glad when we stop in front of Branson.

“What’s up?” Trevor asks as we reach his father. Branson stands next to Jake, each of them with a glass in his hand.

I try to slip my hand from Trevor’s. He grips it harder. I want to yank it from his and would if it wouldn’t cause a scene.

“This is incredible,” Branson says. “You two are the best.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Jake says.

The three Kelly men stand in a row. Jake and Trevor bear a striking resemblance to their father, with strong jawlines and heavy brows and a subdued charisma that’s magnetic.

My hand still in Trevor’s, I plead silently with him to let it go. Every time I try to slip it away, he squeezes it tighter.

Emotions all over the place, I try to focus on Branson as he talks to his sons. His eyes crinkle at the corners when he speaks, like Trevor’s do, and there’s a lilt to his voice, much like Jake’s.

Branson searches the room until his eyes land on Meredith. His entire persona changes. It’s like his heart opens so fully that it spills into the room around us.

I look at Trevor and wonder if he has that in him. If he met the right person and could allow himself to believe in crazy things like love, like his father so obviously does.

If he could do that with me.

My heartbeat slows as Trevor casts me a small smile.

“And thank you for coming, Haley,” Branson says, pulling me back to the moment. “Meredith and I hope you’ll join us for dinner when we get situated in your neck of the woods.”

“I’d like that,” I say.

He looks at his sons. “Now, I’m going to chat with my guests until they leave and then properly celebrate my retirement by taking Meredith upstairs and—”

“Yeah. That’s enough, Dad.” Jake groans.

Branson laughs, giving his sons a final handshake, and leaves to join his wife.

Jake slips a hand in his pocket and looks at his brother. “I’ll wrap this up if you two need to go.”

“We’re fine,” I say. I remove my hand from Trevor’s as discreetly as I can. “We can absolutely stay and help you clean up, if you’d like.”

“No, we can’t,” Trevor says.

I look up at him, nonplussed. “Yes. We can.”

Jake laughs. “You’re losing your touch, Trev.”

Instead of ribbing him back, Trevor locks his jaw.

“On that note”—Jake points at Trevor—“I’m going to go check on the guests. While I could kick your ass, I don’t really want to do it tonight.”

“Good night, Jake,” I say.

“If I don’t see you again, it was nice to meet you, Haley.”

“Same here.”

Jake slips into a small crowd that’s laughing behind us. It takes all of two seconds for Trevor to spin me around to face him.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.” I set my jaw too. “Why does something have to be wrong?”

His Adam’s apple moves in his throat as his eyes heat.

I squirm, my dress too hot. Too tight. Too everything.

“I need some fresh air,” I say.

He takes my hand again. “I’ll take you.”

“I can go alone.”

“Yup,” he says, pulling me toward the door.

With a flick of the handle, it swings open. A moment later, we’re outside. The sky is dark, the moon and stars bright. I close my eyes and feel the cool air on my face. When I open my eyes, Trevor is in front of me.

“You give good advice,” he says, his voice soft.

“Why?”

“I was honest with Liz.”

The sound of her name on his lips is like nails on a chalkboard. I’m not even sure what he had to be honest with her about.

“I thought you said you were very clear with her from the start?” I ask.

He looks at the ground, slipping both hands in his pockets. “I was. Sort of.” He raises his eyes to mine. “I heard what you said about people wanting what they can’t have. And how maybe she’s misinterpreting my behavior as playing hard to get.”

I run my hands up and down my arms. “And?”

“And I talked to her tonight. I told her I probably suck at communication. That I wasn’t playing games with her. She’s a great person and she’ll make a great companion for someone, but that someone isn’t me.”

What?

My hands falter. His eyes meet mine. They make me forget about the temperature and the stars and how eight caramelized figs are seven too many. All I can focus on is the sincerity in his beautiful blue eyes.