His Reverie (Reverie #1)(8)

“But the Hales have kids,” I point out. “Don’t the kids have friends?”

“Not really. The Hale kids are pretty sheltered. They don’t mingle much around here in the summer so they don’t have many local friends that I know of. No one really knows them, though I’ve heard the boy has come out of his shell and been seen driving around town lately.” Michael pulls out the last patriotic-filled box and shuts the closet door before he turns to face me. “The daughter goes to a private girls’ school and every time I see her she’s either riding her horse or reading a book. And Evan just graduated so I’m guessing he’s off to college in the fall. I don’t know. I don’t pay them much attention.”

I don’t say anything else. If I start asking more questions, Michael will suspect I’m fishing for info and he’d be guessing right. I don’t want him to know I’m curious. And I especially don’t want him to know I’ve talked to Reverie.

That’s my secret. One I don’t want to share with anyone.

“We’ll take the boxes over to the main house,” Michael says as we exit the barn. “Mrs. Hale will want to go through it all and pick out what she wants to use. She does this every year. And then she’ll run into town and buy more crap. It’s the same routine each summer.”

I remain silent, letting Michael chatter on. The guy has a mouth that won’t stop once he gets going but I don’t mind. Listening to him helps pass the time.

Besides, I’m nervous. This is the first time I’ve been in the Hale’s house. Even when I was hired, it was at a youth center where they were having a job fair. I’d been forced to go in and put in applications by my high school counselor. I hadn’t expected anything to come of it. Next thing I knew this guy was telling me he could make a difference in my life and wanted to hire me on the spot.

Whatever. I ran with it. I didn’t need to be saved. I just wanted a job.

We approach the French doors at the back of the house and Michael knocks on the wood frame, tapping his foot as we wait for someone to answer.

Imagine my freaking shock when it’s Reverie I see opening the door to us.

“Hey Michael,” she greets, her gaze going to mine, her eyes widening subtly. “Hi,” she breathes.

I nod, trying for cool, probably failing. I don’t want her to acknowledge anything in front of Michael.

“Rev, this is Nick. He’ll be working with me this summer,” Michael says, flicking his head in my direction. “We have stuff for your mom.”

“Um, nice to meet you,” she says, her sweet voice washing over me, her gaze never leaving mine.

“Yeah,” I say. “Same.” I tear my gaze from hers, looking anywhere but at her. Though I’d rather look at her than anywhere else. I can’t though. I refuse to make eyes at her in front of Michael.

“Where should we put the boxes?” Michael says, sounding impatient.

“Oh. You can put them in the study.” Reverie opens the door wider and Michael walks past her, pushing his hand truck in front of him. I fall in behind him, my eyes going to hers once again, seeing the hurt swimming in the pretty blue depths.

I feel like a dick.

As I walk through the door, I catch a hint of her intoxicating scent. Sweet and light, I can’t peg what it is exactly but I know I want more of it. She’s wearing denim shorts that hit just above her knee but fit her skintight and a pale pink T-shirt. Her long hair is pulled into a high ponytail and it’s damp. Like she just got out of the shower or the pool.

My mind instantly goes to naked and I banish the thought.

“Looking good Daydream,” I murmur under my breath as I pass by her, needing to say something to her to let her know that I’m not a total ass.

She doesn’t acknowledge me, just shuts the door and strides past me so she can lead us to the study. Her head is held high, her ponytail swinging to and fro and I have the sudden urge to wrap all that long hair around my fist. Give it a gentle tug. Test just how soft her hair is just as I test the texture of her lips…

“Watch it,” Michael mutters as I run into him with my stack of plastic boxes. They almost topple over and I reach around, slapping my hand on top of the highest box, holding the stack steady.

Reverie pauses and turns around, her delicate golden brows furrowed in concern. “You okay?” she asks, looking directly at me.

Aw, she cares. I feel pinned in place by her intense gaze and her question makes my heart leap, which is freaking stupid. “I’m fine.”

“I'm the one he ran into,” Michael points out, jerking his thumb toward his chest and making Reverie laugh.

I immediately frown. I don’t want him making her laugh. I think that should be my privilege.

And mine alone.

We wheel our respective stack of boxes into the study and set them up for Mrs. Hale to go through. Reverie stands at the open doorway, watching us the entire time though I swear her eyes are only on me. I can feel her tracking my every move and it makes me self-conscious. Makes me wonder what she sees.

If she even likes what she sees.

We finish up pretty quickly and then we’re leaving the house, Rev trailing behind us the entire way. Michael shoots me a strange look, flicking his head in Reverie’s direction in a, what gives with her way but I just shrug in answer. I don’t know why she’s following us.