Reckless Hearts (Oak Harbor #2)(16)

My cheeks flush with heat, and I feel it again, that restless, nervous buzz in my veins. Electric.

Dangerous.

I scramble to my feet. “You guys need any help?” I call over to Sawyer and Lottie, needing to put some distance between us.

“All set,” Sawyer announces, waving his grill tongs in triumph. “Time to eat!”



We feast on hot dogs, burgers, and all the fixings, sitting around the table on Sawyer’s back deck under the shade of the old oak tree. I’m relieved to find it’s not awkward at all with Will; he fits in easily, chatting with Lottie, and talking sports and music with Sawyer like he’s always been here.

“We’ll have to go to the county fair,” Lottie declares, already planning our summer. “Ooh, and we can all rent a boat and go out on the water, there are some great beaches you can only get to by sea.”

“Easy there,” I tell her. “Nobody ever tell you to play hard to get?”

Lottie laughs. “Please, I’m desperate, I need new friends,” she tells Will. “My sister just up and left, and now I’m all alone.”

Sawyer snorts. “And what does that make us?”

“I thought you were meeting all these cool moms?” I ask.

“Yes, but they’re all the way over in Beachwood Bay.” Lottie sighs. “Nobody can just hang out without making all these plans.”

Will leans back in his seat, giving a slow smile. “So what you’re really saying is you need a new last-minute babysitter.”

There’s a pause, then we all burst out laughing. “Busted,” I tell Lottie as she tries to pout. Sawyer grins, and sends another beer sliding down the table to Will.

“Welcome, buddy. I can already tell you’re going to fit right in.”

We clear the table and head inside, while Lottie takes Kit upstairs to clean up. “So what’s the plan for the rest of the afternoon?” I ask Sawyer, cleaning up in the kitchen.

“Lottie roped me into doing a Costco run,” he replies, setting dishes in the sink.

“Ha,” I laugh. “She tried that one on me, too.”

“It’s OK.” He shrugs. “I need some stuff. And you know how she gets when she pulls the whole puppy-dog eyes thing.”

“You’re a soft touch.” I smile. “Enjoy the multipacks of kitchen towels. I’ll be sitting around at the auto shop. I need Eddie to take a look at my car.”

“Let me guess,” Will’s voice comes. He’s leaning in the doorway. “You need to override the locks again.”

“Not this time,” I protest. “The engine’s making a weird rattling noise whenever I go too slow.”

“I can take a look,” he offers.

“No, it’s OK.”

Will looks at me. “How long is this Eddie going to take? It might be a simple fix.”

I pause. I have showings all week, and if I can’t get the town mechanic to skip me to the front of the line, I’ll have to reschedule them all. “Sure,” I finally agree. “Thanks.”

I lead him out front and start the engine, while Will lifts the hood and peers in. “It’s your carburetor,” he says, after listening for a moment. “Shouldn’t take more than five minutes to fix. I’ve got my tools back at home.”

“Really?” My hope rises. “You’d be doing me a big favor. This thing has been nothing but trouble. It almost makes me wish I’d kept Berta.”

“Berta?” Will closes the hood, smiling.

“My old beater,” I explain. “She wasn’t glamorous, but she never let me down.”

“Give this guy a chance,” Will says. “You just need to get to know him, that’s all.”

I wonder for a moment if he’s still talking about the car, but then Lottie comes out. I grab my stuff and say my goodbyes, then get behind the wheel, following Will’s ancient truck as he heads out of town.

Way out of town.

I peer at the winding road ahead. I know pretty much every square mile of Oak Harbor, but even this is getting rural, way out in the woods. Private. Alone.

I feel a shiver, but immediately scold myself. What am I so worried about? Will isn’t the kind of guy to jump me. No, but you might just wind up pinning him down for another kiss . . .

I flush. A short, wild fling is one thing, but Will lives here now, which means he has “boyfriend material” written all over him. Roughly translated to, a very bad idea. I can keep my hands to myself if it means keeping things simple. Friendly.

Totally platonic.

I follow Will off the main road and down a twisting, bumpy dirt track. I’m already regretting the mud on my tires by the time we pull up in front of . . . well, let’s just say “shack” is being generous. I scramble out of the car and look at the run-down buildings in horror. “Tell me which realtor sold you this pile of crap, and I’ll go kick his ass,” I vow fiercely.

Will bursts out laughing. “Relax, I’ve got it under control,” he says. “They’re fixing the roof, and there’ll be running water by next week.”

“There’s no running water!” I yelp, before catching myself. I take a deep breath. This is his business, and it’s not like I’m going to be hanging out here. “Sounds . . . great,” I say instead, following him around to the workshop in back. Unlike the rest of the property, this space is spotless: swept out and scrubbed down, with two work benches already set up and tools hanging neatly on the wall. Will heads for the boxes stacked in the back while I wander, taking it in. “What are these?” I ask, trailing my fingertips over some weird metal tools.