Trouble (Dogwood Lane #3)(32)

I blink. “I just said I’m the happiest motherfucker on the planet. Did you not hear me?”

He looks at me like I’m certifiable, like there’s a padded cell somewhere with a person in a white coat on standby.

He’s wrong. I’m not crazy. I might joke around about it and have a few different excuses just so I don’t have to talk about it honestly, but I know exactly why I don’t want a relationship. It comes from the most logical, uncrazy part of my brain.

Matt takes a deep breath. “What if you managed to convince Avery to give you a shot? She’s a nice girl, Penn. You two could have something together.”

“The only thing I want with her are orgasms.”

He looks at the sky like it’s somehow going to change my mind.

“I’m just not that guy,” I say. “Never have been. Never will. It’s just not in my DNA.”

“I think your DNA is what’s to blame.”

His head lowers and he faces me again. I know what he’s thinking. I can see it in the way he holds his mouth—a firm, tight line.

Matt’s never said it, but he thinks my lack of wanting to couple up with someone is because of my father. He thinks that because my dad made our household a living Hell, loving my mom and me one minute and then not really giving a flying fuck the next, I’ve shut myself off from allowing anyone that kind of closeness with me again.

Matt would be right.

I, however, will not admit it. Saying it out loud would make me feel like I need the white-coat guy.

It’s not that Matt wouldn’t understand it. Hell, he gets it without my admission. But in his “rose-colored glasses” view of the world, he’d try to rationalize the irrational. He would try to explain away my parents’ behaviors and prove to me that there’s more out there for me.

There’s not. I’m okay with it. I’m not sure Matt would be, though. It might ruin his view of the world, and who am I to do that?

I wrap my arm around his neck and start walking toward the door. “For the record, if you were a girl, I’d totally date you.”

He shoves me off him, toward the brick wall. “You’re a prick, Etling.”

I laugh as I follow him inside.





CHAPTER TWELVE

PENN

Meredith’s perfume, the tapping of her heels, the yapping of her dog all make their way to us before she does.

“Hello, Penn. Hi, Matt,” she says. “It’s so good to see you guys again.”

Meredith’s tone is way too high for this time of day. Or any time of day. Why does anyone ever need to be that chirpy?

“Hey, Meredith,” I say, trying not to wince.

The poodle in her arms has a yellow collar with rhinestones wrapped around it. I swear the dog assesses me and labels me unworthy to breathe the same air it does.

“How have you been?” Matt asks her.

She waves a hand through the air. The diamonds catch the light. She’s a real-life version of one of those princesses in the movies Mia watches. If she busts out a tiara, I won’t even blink.

“Oh, good. Busy. You know how it goes. We got the house decorated finally. My interior designer got behind schedule because her . . . Well, you guys probably don’t care.” She laughs. “I’m rambling. Just let me say that I’m really happy you could come out today and discuss my new project.”

Matt takes the lead, as I knew he would, and relays part of a conversation he had with Dane. I check out mentally. I only want to know what I need to know, and what Dane said about the subcontractor insurance doesn’t mean jack to me.

I don’t plan on falling off any kiddie ladders, unlike some people.

Instead, I take in the large, mostly vacant room.

The bookshelves that used to line the walls are gone. Everything looks clean and ready to go.

Besides the main room, there are a couple of offices and two meeting rooms down the hall to the right that we used to use for banquets and parties when I was growing up. It’s odd to see it so blank, but it should be fun, watching it transform into something new.

“I got the building permit this morning,” Meredith says, her heels clicking against the concrete floor. “They expedited it for me. It’s nice to have friends in high places.”

“I bet it is,” I say.

“My stepsons are supposed to come by this morning with the renovation plans. Jake drew them up for me based on a conversation we had last week, and Trevor created a budget.” Her eyes sparkle. “But you know how I am with budgets.”

“Yup. You pretty much ignore them,” I deadpan. “I think we quadrupled the budget for your house in paint alone.”

She points at me. “But I’ll have you know it was worth every penny. Bashful was the perfect choice for the sitting room. My husband agrees. It’s just so fun.”

“We’re glad you like it,” Matt says, casting me a warning to stay quiet about the ridiculousness of the same two shades of pink. “So what are we doing in here?”

She sets the dog down. Its claws mimic the sound of her heels as it races around the room, yapping at dust bunnies in the corners. When she stands, she presses her manicured nails together in front of her like she’s praying.

“This town has a lot of sports activities for kids, but there’s nothing for children that just want to be kids. Not every kid is athletic or wants to be an athlete,” she says.