Tangle (Dogwood Lane 2)

She honks.

I burst out laughing.

“I must’ve made an impression if she’s following me already,” I point out.

“You heard nothing I just said, did you?”

“Nope.”

“Go add to your fan club and call me this afternoon,” he says.

“Yeah. Will do. Later.”

I end the call before he says goodbye.

My navigation tells me to take a right in two hundred feet. In a small break in the tree line is a barrel. A white board is attached to the front, bearing the words KELLY JOBSITE.

Part of me wants to do what I came here to do: check out the house and get some fresh air. The other part of me, the one led by my groin, wants to pull over and see what Haley wants.

That side wins.

Before I can do that, her turn signal indicates she’s turning right too. And with no other lane in sight, it’s obvious we’re headed to the same place.

With a curious mind and a semihard cock, I pull into the driveway.

CHAPTER FOUR

TREVOR

Good God,” I mumble.

Dad’s house stands in front of me, towering over the valley from its perch at the top of the hill. Even in its incomplete state, it’s impressive, with arched windows affording what I’m certain is an incredible view. Over the solid, eight-foot door is a stained glass window that was custom made to Meredith’s specifications.

It’s over the top and ridiculous and, much to my chagrin, kind of awesome.

I pull my truck under a large pine tree next to a white pickup. Haley rolls to a stop behind me. It takes all of two seconds for her feet to hit the lawn. Her attention is momentarily redirected to a man leaning out a third-floor window, but snaps back to the truck in a hurry. She’s absolutely adorable with the little scowl that wrinkles her lips as she marches my way.

Her unpainted fingernail pecks on the tinted glass.

Leaning back in my seat, stretching my legs out in front of me, I watch the way the sun caresses her face. A gentleness shines from her deep-brown eyes that lends an air of vulnerability to her otherwise animated expression. Her full lips are twisted as if she can barely stop herself from speaking, and the memory of her incessant rambling in the café makes me chuckle.

She pecks again. As I roll the window down, I wonder if she’s always this amusing.

“What is wrong with you?” she asks. The question skips from her lips two seconds before she realizes who I am. Her eyes go wide, brows shooting to the sky, as two and two come together.

I grin. “Good to see you again too.”

“What are you doing here?”

“It looks like I’m being stalked.”

She steps away from the truck, a grin tickling her lips. “Oh, please.”

“Care to explain it another way?”

“If anyone is stalking anyone, it’s you stalking me,” she says.

I touch my fingertip to my temple as if I’m mulling that over. “Yeah, there’s a big problem with that theory, Ohio. I was at the café and this place first. That would make you following me. And if I remember correctly, you were kinda drooling over me this morning, which only lends truth to my hypothesis.”

Her cheeks flush in the sweetest shade of pink. My fingers itch to reach out and touch her skin to see if it’s warm, to feel the effect of my observation. Instead, I pick up a pen out of a cup holder and fiddle with it.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Thief,” she says. “Did you think that drool was for you?”

“You’re admitting you’re a drooler? That’s gross.”

She shrugs. “I’ve been known to get a little excited about a doughnut.”

“So I’ve seen.” I open the door and step onto the lawn. “Your enthusiasm for pastries knows no bounds.”

“You’re just jealous I didn’t get that excited over you.”

I lean closer, my heartbeat picking up at the proximity of our bodies. A slight gasp parts her lips.

“You’re so cute when you lie,” I whisper.

Her mouth is open to fire back a response when the man from the window joins us. He’s my height, well over six foot, and wears a carpenter’s belt and a disarming smile.

“I’m taking it you two know each other,” he says. He looks at me and extends a hand. “You must be Trevor.”

“I am. You must be Dane,” I say, giving his hand a firm shake.

“Nice to meet you,” Dane says. “Matt, my brother, the one you’ve been talking to this week, will be here shortly. He’s with our third hand, Penn, getting a few things from the lumberyard.”

Haley waves her hands in front of her. “Wait. Wait. Hold up. How do you two know each other?”

“Trevor is here from Nashville to inspect the house,” Dane explains. “This is going to be your dad’s place, right?”

“It is,” I say. “In case it’s not obvious, my father is going through a midlife crisis.”