Things We Never Said (Hart's Boardwalk 3)

“Michael, I can handle myself,” I hissed.

He ignored me and called down to Jeff. “Sheriff, we got a guy here with no manners.”

“Is that right? Well, I can see a couple guys in the room who didn’t get a seat,” Jeff said.

I didn’t hear the rest of the conversation because I’d put my forehead to the table in mortification and was blocking the room out.

“I can’t wait to get to him,” the woman next to me whispered. “I love a man with good manners. And God, those arms. Yum.”

I was officially in hell.

The scraping of chairs and the soft protests of Mousy Man brought my head up. Jace, a young bartender at Cooper’s, slid into the seat in his place, while Kell manhandled Mousy Man out of the room. I turned back to Jace and his cocky grin. “Hey, Dahlia. Sorry I’m late.” His eyes drifted over me. “You look hot.”

I rolled my eyes because Jace was the biggest flirt on the planet. “What are you doing here? Like you need help to get a date.”

“Like you need help to get a date,” he countered, and then leaned across the table conspiratorially. “So, what’s with the sheriff and the good detective ousting your last date?”

“He pretty much called me fat and was loud about it so they decided I’m a four-year-old who can’t handle herself.”

Jace nodded, his attention dipping downward. “Asshole. You’re not fat. You’re perfect.”

“Eyes off my boobs, Jace.”

His gaze drifted slowly upward. “Sorry. It’s just they’re right the—”

“I know. They’re right there.”

The bell rang before Jace could respond, and he winked at me before moving to the woman on his right, my left. The guy moving toward the vacant seat grinned at me, and I was about to return his open smile when Michael appeared and clamped a hand on his shoulder. “Sorry, this seat’s taken.”

He slid into the seat opposite me before the man could protest. We stared at each other like it was a contest while the guy floundered in our peripheral vision before eventually disappearing.

“That’s not how this works,” I said.

“She’s right,” the woman next to me piped in, a petulant tone to her voice. “You missed me entirely.”

Michael flicked her an impatient look and then turned back to me. “What are you doing here?”

“What are you doing here?” I rebutted.

“Jeff coerced me into being his wingman. I didn’t realize it meant being his wingman while he was all over you.”

I cut him a dirty look. “I saw Dana keeping you company.”

“I haven’t touched her.”

“I know.” I sighed. “That’s why she’s still hounding you.”

“Can’t say the same for you and Jeff.”

“Not here, Michael.” I shook my head.

He leaned across the table, his voice low. “Just tell me one thing.”

Caught in his eyes, I found it impossible to look away. “What?”

“Is he the guy? The one who made you temporarily forget me?”

I winced, sorry I’d admitted that and even sorrier that Michael hadn’t forgotten. “That … came out wrong.”