Trouble (Dogwood Lane #3)(7)

“Will you stop?” Harper laughs. “You’re going to break your neck. Besides, you can’t see anything from there. You’d have to walk over to at least the chair.”

I spin around, caught red-handed. “What? I wasn’t trying to see anything.” I try to keep a straight face but fail at that too. “She’s hot as fuck,” I whisper with all the emphasis I can get away with.

Harper motions for me to come her way. I oblige in the hope that she’s going to give me the golden ticket I need to cash in on her niece.

“Where is Dane going on vacation?” she asks. She does it in the way my ma used to do when she knew I wasn’t listening. It’s a slow cadence, like you use with a baby.

“Flor-i-da,” I say just as slowly back.

A towel is brandished my way. I duck it easily.

Harper laughs. “You’re a little shit, you know that?”

“You act like this is new information. So,” I say, lowering my voice, “what do you know about her? Give me some pointers so I have something to go on. Please?”

She sighs. “First of all, if you want a real shot at Avery, you’re going to have to change your game.”

“Meaning . . .”

“Meaning she’s my niece, Penn. She’s not going to mess with you if you start fiddling with her the way you usually do women.”

“I do not fiddle with women,” I insist. “Maybe I enjoy them. But I never fiddle with them. That makes it sound like I’m mean.”

Her face softens. “You aren’t mean. I don’t think you have a mean bone in your body. If I thought you did, there’s no way in Hell I’d let you even talk to her. But I’ve seen enough things from you that I think you and she could . . . get along.”

“Define ‘get along.’”

“Penn . . . ,” she warns.

“If you’re going where I think you’re going, you can stop. I don’t go that direction. You know this.”

“But the direction you’ve been heading for, what, twenty-eight years now isn’t really getting you anywhere, is it?”

I shrug. “I’m really doing fine. And right now, I want to be doing fine with her.”

Harper shakes her head like she’s got the upper hand. “You can want in one hand and wish in the other, but Avery isn’t going to be interested in being in Penn Etling’s harem.”

“Ooh, Penn’s harem. I like the sound of that.”

She rolls her eyes. “Just think about what I’ve said.”

The door behind me opens. A stream of midmorning sunlight fills the small room as Lorene comes in. Her silver hair shines on top of her head. She’s out of breath, and for a woman close to a hundred years old, that’s not a good thing.

I exchange a look with Harper.

“I’m sorry,” Lorene says. “I’m late, aren’t I?”

Her cheeks huff and puff like it’s taken all her might to get up the stairs and to the door. There’s a purplish mark on the top of her hand that is reminiscent of the one I got when I slammed mine with a hammer.

A purse dangles from her arm. It trembles as she leans against the door. “One of these days, I’m going to remember I’m ninety years old and not the spring chicken I think I am.”

“What do you mean, that you’re no spring chicken? You don’t look a day over twenty.” I toss her a wink as I take her arm and steady her. “You okay?”

She pats my arm. Her hands are cold, the veins a striking blue against her pale skin. “I’m better now. Thank you, Penn.”

Harper wags a finger my way. “Don’t you get any ideas with Lorene, Penn Etling.”

Lorene downright beams. “You let him have all the ideas he wants.” She adjusts her grip on my arm, squeezing it tighter as she gazes up at me. “Would you help me get over to the chair?”

“Absolutely.”

I guide her across the room and ease her into Harper’s chair. She groans as she gets situated with her little green purse on her lap. Harper’s eyes meet mine over the top of Lorene’s head.

“Oh, dear,” Lorene says, squinting to see the calendar on the wall. “I think I have the wrong day. It’s not Wednesday, is it? I’m all messed up.” She raises a shaky hand to her temple. “Dogwood Day isn’t this week, either, is it?”

“No. It’s in a couple of weeks,” Harper says gently. “We all get a little mixed up sometimes. It’s okay.”

“I got in a hurry this morning for nothing,” Lorene says.

“Not true,” I say. “I think Harper just had a cancellation. You just sit back and get pampered a little bit. I bet that’ll clear your head right up.”

Harper mouths a thank-you and motions for me to follow her. “I’ll be right back, Lorene,” she says.

We walk to the side near where she keeps her supplies. That’s also by the mini fridge, where I happen to know she keeps the best Popsicles for her younger clientele . . . and me. She even keeps extra grape ones for me, I think.

“Look at you being all chivalrous,” Harper whispers.

“I’m a sucker for old ladies. What can I say?”

A bright smile inches across her face. Her head cocks to the side. “If you want to reschedule, we can. Or you could ask Avery to cut your hair.”