No Damaged Goods

She rolls her eyes, making an exasperated sound. “Please. He’d probably get drunk and end up with a tenth-degree sunburn.”

“No such thing as a tenth-degree burn,” Blake growls back. “Think I can manage to avoid a little sun. It’s almost like I know a thing or two about burnin’ up.”

“Whatever,” Andrea snaps.

Haley clears her throat, jumping in quickly. “Er…Blake? Peace? I didn’t think you two had met?”

Oh. Now I don’t think I’m going to stop blushing until I die.

“We’ve met,” he says quietly, his gaze flicking to my eyes.

Just that.

No clue how to read it when he doesn’t say anything else.

I just know he probably doesn’t want Haley knowing how we met.

Except I guess we’re more obvious than we both realize because Haley jumps in with a soft gasp. “Oh, that’s right! I heard you on the radio the other night. You were talking about recording something for the radio station, weren’t you, Peace?”

Dear God.

Blake’s eyes widen.

So do mine.

We just stare at each other.

Is he blushing under those wily whiskers?

I know I sure as hell am.

Neither of us seem like we’re going to look away first, even though I’m practically squirming.

Thank God for Andrea to the rescue again.

“You sing?” she gasps. “Could you get any cooler?”

I let out a nervous laugh. “I’m…not really, I just…” I tear my gaze from Blake to Andrea. “It’s just a hobby. Maybe one I want to do professionally, though. A songwriter for recording studios or freelance or something.”

Andrea tilts her head. “You don’t want to sing your own songs?”

“Demo tracks, maybe.” I gesture at myself. “Do I really look like star material?”

“Yeah,” Blake says. “You do.”

Three shockingly serious words. They stop my heart before jump-starting it again.

Holy crap.

He’s looking at me again.

And I still can’t read one bit of him and his steely-blue eyes.

But I feel like he’s tearing me apart with a single steady gaze, his eyes shadowed and hot, raking over me with vivid intensity.

I swallow so loud it echoes.

I can’t find any words, my voice drying up in my throat. And I realize Haley’s staring at us, her eyes slightly narrowed, something knowing and amused in the quirk of her lips.

Save me, I almost plead. I don’t even know if I actually want to be saved.

There’s something delicious about melting under Blake’s gaze.

It’s a new kind of nice seeing him so relaxed.

From the patient, tired father to the gentle mentor to the stoic hero, but with a bit of goofy humor I’ve only seen come out every now and again.

And now this side.

This quiet, intense man I can’t figure out, but who seems to have taken some kind of interest in me, even if I’m almost scared to know what’s got him looking at me so sharply.

Nothing, maybe.

Or maybe everything I’m starting to want.

Every freaking time I’m in his presence and a lot of times when I’m not.

Haley stands abruptly, clapping her hands together. “Well. If you don’t get moving, Andrea’s going to be late—and I have a feeling she doesn’t want to miss a certain meeting.”

“Haley!” Andrea hisses, nearly squirming herself. “I don’t want to talk about that!”

She bares her teeth, then abruptly changes the subject. “Peace, you want to come check out the carnival? We’re just getting stuff set up for the fireworks show, and like, they’re building an ice castle and everything.”

Blake grunts, finally looking away, leaving me almost cold without his eyes. “I’m still not okay with this fireworks thing. Especially with that kid running it.”

“Clark isn’t a kid, Dad.” Andrea snarls. “He’s a junior.”

Oh, now I get it.

That’s why she’s so eager to get going.

It’s the same boy she was so mad at the other night.

I grin, relaxing a little. “What’s so wrong with fireworks?”

“It’s a major fire hazard,” Blake says, scowling. “They won’t just be shooting off rockets. They’re planning a full pyrotechnics show, and they’re expecting me to sign off on the safety check.”

“And Clark’s uncle trained him well,” Andrea fires back. “It’ll be fine.”

“I’ll decide if it’s fine, young la—”

“So!” I interrupt before this can thunder into a bigger argument. “If you wouldn’t mind showing me around…”

Andrea and Blake pull back sharply from glaring at each other to blink at me.

Then Andrea grins.

Blake groans.

And I’m definitely getting mixed signals when they both say “Sure” at the same time.

It’s adorable how father and daughter mirror each other.

Only, one’s way more reluctant than the other.

* * *

Yep.

I officially feel like a third wheel right now.

We’re making the ride over to the carnival grounds in Blake’s Jeep after dinner. Andrea’s in the back seat, and I’m awkwardly tucked in the front while no one says a word.

Blake’s gone all broody beast-man again, turned inward, shutting down quietly, while Andrea stays in her Don’t talk to me, Dad mode, busy texting in the back seat.

I don’t know what to say.