608 Alpha Avenue (Cherry Falls)

Her face lights up, but not without a heavy dose of uncertainty. “Really?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?”

I sigh. “Isn’t this what you want?”

Haley considers this. She bites on the pad of her thumb as she watches me with curiosity sparkling in her eyes. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, she drops her hand.

“Fine,” she says.

“Fine.”

She looks behind her as the door opens, and an older couple comes in. They smile at us before taking a cart and rounding the corner toward the shovels.

“I’ll be done at the shop around five,” I say. “Want to go hiking with me in the Wild Ridge Mountains? We can talk there.”

“You wanting to push me off the ridge?”

“Something like that.”

We exchange a grin.

“I’ll meet you at the trailhead at six?” she offers.

“Make it six thirty, and you have yourself a deal.”

“Deal!” She smiles broadly and backs toward the door. “Prepare an apology, though.”

“For what?”

She shrugs. “For whatever you may decide needs apologizing for as you ponder this meeting we have scheduled today. See you then.”

The chimes ring, and she’s gone.

I’m left standing in Cherrywood Lumber and Hardware Store, wondering what the hell just happened.

Five

Haley

“I told you so!” Kaylee’s squeal is almost more than I can take.

I pull the phone away from my ear. “Settle down, wild woman.”

“I told you so. I. Told. You. So. Itoldyouso!” She sighs blissfully. “I still have it.”

“Still have what?”

“The ability to detect love when I see it. I thought—”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” I say as I turn a corner to the Wild Ridge Mountains. “You’re extremely ahead of yourself.”

She scoffs. “I told you that he was into you.”

Even though I know this isn’t true—at least not in the way Kaylee is envisioning it, my stomach still flutters. And, despite knowing that Grayson only agreed to this whole thing because I baited him with Bryant, the idea of him being into me is admittedly nice.

I grin, happy that Kaylee can’t see me.

“Yeah, well, I put him on the spot. I was really feeling myself after your words of encouragement this morning. Or … whatever they were.”

The trailhead comes into view. The dusty roofing of the ranger’s office sticks out against the majestic backdrop of the Wild Ridges. I scan the parking area and find Grayson’s truck on the end.

My heartbeat quickens and, in one swift moment, I regret everything.

“What?” Kaylee asks.

“Nothing. Why?”

“Because you just sucked in a breath like you do when you’re ready to do that fake-cry thing you do.”

She knows me so well.

“I just …”

I lift my foot off the accelerator. My miles-per-hour drops to a crawl. My brain rushes through the encounter at Cherrywood Lumber in some weird point of view that makes me feel like an intruder.

And desperate.

And … not cute.

I can see Grayson’s gorgeous face and assessing eyes. Bryant’s sweet smile and enthusiasm for life.

My sass. Sass that came from nowhere, and sass that I don’t feel like I truly embody.

Dear lord, please help me.

“I was a different person this afternoon,” I wail.

Kaylee cracks up. “It was precisely four hours ago.”

“So? I was a different person then. Full of spunk and moxie.”

“You’re killing me here.”

I pretend to sob. “Well, I’m about two minutes from killing my self-confidence and pride. Join me on the dark side—and, by dark, I mean dead.”

Kaylee laughs so hard that it pulls the corners of my lips up too.

I shift in my seat as my gaze drifts to Grayson’s truck again.

“He sees me,” I say, my voice almost shrill. “He’s climbing out of his truck. Dammit, Kaylee—he’s wearing a freaking sleeveless shirt.”

“Oh, the muscles,” she says, reminiscent of Martha May Whovier.

It makes me laugh. That takes the sharp edge off my anxiety.

Breathe, I remind myself. You see this man almost every day. You’re used to him as much as a woman can be used to a man like that. Just breathe. You’re going to be fine.

“Okay,” Kaylee says. “Check your teeth and nose before you get to him. You wore deodorant, right?”

“Yes, Mother.”

I sniff my armpits just to be sure.

“Good,” she says. “And did you wear footwear appropriate for hiking?”

“Yes.”

“Dammit. You should’ve worn something ridiculous like flip-flops.”

“Um, we’re hiking. Did you miss that part?”

“No. I fully understand where you’re going. But think about it. How are you going to trip spectacularly over a rock and right into those big, chiseled arms?” She sighs dramatically. “I’m going to need a call back as soon as your butt hits the car seat. Unless, that is, he has your butt—”

“Enough! Don’t make my nerves worse.” I flip on my turn signal and then pull slowly into the gravel parking lot. “You’re a terrible friend.”

She laughs. “Let’s see if you’re still saying that post-coital.”

“We aren’t here for that,” I say, feeling tension creep into my shoulders. “It’s not like that. Can we not talk about it like that?” I pull into a parking space and put the car into park. “As a matter of fact,” I say, flipping the visor down and giving myself a quick once-over, “let’s not talk at all.” The visor snaps back up. “Teeth and nose are checked. I’m parked. I gotta go.”