Things We Never Said (Hart's Boardwalk 3)

“Have you thought about it? Really thought about it? What your life will look like again without him in it?”

I had.

It was hollow and empty and cold.

But it would be more than Dillon would ever get to have.

“These are for sale, right?” A female voice drew us out of our conversation. A tourist stood at the stall wearing a curious expression, glancing between us.

I forced a smile, pretending like I wasn’t seconds away from falling apart, and gestured to my jewelry. “Yes. And it’s all handmade.”

Bailey was right. I needed to say no to Kell Summers. Maybe even hell no!

Gazing around the conference room in Vaughn’s hotel, my stomach gave an unhappy lurch. It had been a week since the carnival, I’d avoided Michael and all the serious thoughts that came with him, but I had not avoided Kell Summers.

Kell had set up tables in two long rows with chairs opposite each other for the speed-dating event. The room was buzzing with familiar and not-so-familiar faces, so I surmised that the rumors were true. The event had attracted people from all over the county.

Dating was no big deal to me.

I’d started serial dating in my mid-

twenties, and I’d used every app and online dating site available. Dating had led me all over our small state, and I’d gone on dates in Philadelphia, Maryland, and New Jersey. Very few of those dates had turned into anything resembling a relationship, and as soon as I realized that’s what it was, I’d walked away.

The longest “relationship” I’d been in was with Jeff King. I’d considered it more a fling, but it had lasted three months. Subconsciously, I knew it was getting serious, but the sex was so good, I hadn’t wanted to give him up. Plus, Jeff was great. He reminded me a little of Michael. However, he wasn’t Michael, and when it became clear he was developing real feelings for me, I broke things off. It wasn’t fair to Jeff, or to any man, to be with a woman who could never love him the way he deserved.

I’d returned to my serial dating, and it was a way to pass the time and deal with that pesky sexual frustration (although to be fair, my vibrator did a better job more often than not), so speed dating shouldn’t have bothered me.

Yet, it bothered me.

It bothered me greatly.

Because Kell Summers hadn’t only talked me into doing it.

Michael and Jeff were in the room.

Michael saw me as soon as I walked in, but he’d been cornered by Dana Kellerman. Surprise, surprise. He nodded at me, and I gave him a small wave in greeting. Jeff had also been talking to a woman, someone I didn’t recognize, when he saw me. Nervousness shot through me as he excused himself and strode across the room.

Jeff was tall, and there was something about the way he walked that reminded me of the way cowboys swaggered in the old Hollywood movies. He had a rangy build, not thick muscle like Michael, but lean and hard. All of that was good. Very masculine, rugged, sexy goodness. And he knew what to do with it in the bedroom. I flushed and forced those memories away.

There was gladness in Jeff’s blue eyes that told me he was happy to see me.

It wasn’t that I wasn’t happy to see Jeff. I was. I was always glad to see him. But my mind was whirring, wondering if Michael had worked out my history with his boss.

“You look beautiful.” Jeff perused my outfit.

I was wearing a vintage red pencil dress that accentuated every generous curve of my body, matching red platform peep-toes with a delicate ankle strap, and I wore my long dark hair in waves down my back. Bright red lipstick finished my not-quite-but-almost fifties pinup look. “Thanks. You look good too.” He did. He always did. “But who is manning the station with the sheriff and his detective here?”

He grinned at my teasing. “I was harassed into doing this and if I have to do it, why suffer alone?”

I bit my lip and peeked around his shoulder at Michael, who was glaring daggers at Jeff’s back. Michael didn’t throw out dirty looks willy-nilly.

Shit, he knew.

“He knows about us,” Jeff confirmed.

I studied him. “What do you know about Michael and me?”

“Not a lot. He’s pretty closemouthed. I know you know each other from Boston. That he’s here because of you. He mentioned he let you slip through his fingers once before and he wasn’t going to let it happen again.”