Trouble (Dogwood Lane #3)(33)

“You mean you weren’t a soccer star?” I joke.

She laughs. “No. And I know you’re shocked.” She brushes a strand of hair out of her face. “There’s no community pool. The park is a wreck. And while I’m not a fan of arcades or pool halls or things of that nature, Dogwood Lane has none, anyway. So we’re going to fix that.” She walks to the far side of the room near the big, bright windows I hope she plans on keeping. “I know we have to do this in stages. Rome wasn’t built in a day, after all. But I want to really create the foundation of something truly special for the youth here.”

“Like a kids’ club or something?” Matt asks.

“Exactly.” She smiles wide. “The first phase will include framing up some of this giant room to be more intimate. Jake will have more information on that later today. He said he projects it will take about two weeks to get this part done. I’m not sure about the mural. That might take longer. Have I told you about the mural?”

“No,” I say.

“Oh, let me tell you all about it,” she almost squeals.

“Yay.”

Matt shoves my shoulder as we follow Meredith to the back wall.

“I have big ideas for this space,” she says. “I’m seeing something that screams quaint and community, something vibrant and fun. There’s supposed to be an artist coming by today to take a look at this and tell me what she can do. I . . .” She slides her phone out of her pocket. “I know this is rude, but I do need to take this. Can you two hold on?”

“Sure,” Matt says.

“It’s her world,” I mutter as she walks away. “We just live in it.”

Matt chuckles. He moseys around the room, surveying the space, as Meredith click-clacks her way out the front door with her puppy in her arms.

I follow a few steps behind Matt, trying to get an idea of how much work this thing is going to take. From what I can tell, two weeks sounds like plenty of time as long as some artist doesn’t come in and screw up our mojo.

I turn to tell Matt that I’m taking my time on this project just so it won’t be done when Dane gets back. Before I can get the words out, the hair on the back of my neck stands up. I whip around to see an empty room behind me.

“What’s wrong?” Matt asks.

“Nothing. I just felt like someone was standing there.”

“Maybe it’s a ghost. Are you going to be scared if you’re in here all alone?”

“I . . .” My voice trails off as Avery walks in. She slips a pair of sunglasses off her face and lets her eyes fall on me. “I’ve never been scared of ghosts that look like that.”

My heart skips a beat as I instinctively start toward her. Whether she knows it or not, she moves my direction too.

“Damn Harper,” she says, fighting a grin.

“You’ve second-guessed the end to our night all morning, haven’t you?” I ask. “Just had to come find me.”

“What would make you say that?”

“Well, why else would you be here?”

She laughs, sticking her sunglasses in her purse. “I love how you think that every single thing revolves around you.”

“I don’t think everything revolves around me. But I also know a spade is a spade, if you catch my drift.”

The yellow V-neck shirt she’s wearing makes her skin glow. Her hair is in this half-up, half-down thing that draws attention to her face. And cleavage. Definitely to her cleavage.

“I’ll have you know,” she says, “that I didn’t know you were here. Harper sent me over to see about a painting job.” She looks around the room. “Hey, Matt.”

He waves.

“Am I in the right spot?” Avery asks. “Harper said it was the old library, and I swear that’s what the sign said outside.”

“This is it.”

Matt comes up beside me. “One question: How bad was Penn’s pickup line last night?”

Avery readjusts her purse on her arm and looks at me with a cocked brow. “You told Matt you attempted a pickup line last night? Because if I remember correctly, you couldn’t even think of one.”

Matt cackles until I threaten to jab him in the spleen.

“I was more than a little disappointed,” she says.

“I couldn’t think of one, Ave, because guys like me don’t need them.” I cross my arms over my chest. “I do love that you were disappointed. That means you wanted an excuse to cave.”

I’m confident with this explanation. It’s self-evident. She knows it’s true. Still, she doesn’t back down.

“First of all, I don’t need an excuse to cave. If I want to cave, I’ll cave.”

“Feel free,” I say with a grin.

“I’m good. Thanks.” She lifts a brow. “Second, if you don’t need pickup lines, what do you use?”

“For what?”

She rolls her eyes. “To win over women.”

“Easy.” I grin. “My charm.”

She doesn’t look impressed.

“And my abs.”

“Oh, please,” Matt says.

“Fine.” I ensure my features are as smooth as silk as I bore my eyes into Avery’s. “My cock.”