Tumble (Dogwood Lane #1)(20)

Settling back into the leather seat, my eyes still glued to the patio, I blow out a breath. “Maybe that’s the answer to my problems.”

“Not following you.”

“I need to find a thorough investment banker who takes care of everything, if you know what I mean. Then I could just sit at home and run my own magazine. It would be perfect.”

“So you want a sugar daddy. That’s what you’re saying.”

“No.” I giggle. “There’s nothing sexy about a grown man being called daddy—sugar or not.”

“So true. Do you remember the—”

“Lion tamer,” we say in unison before bursting into laughter.

“He couldn’t have tamed a first grader. Where do you find these guys?” I laugh, wiping at my eyes. “His ponytail was epic, though. I—ah!”

When I jump at the sound of a knock to my left, my elbow hits the middle console. My phone goes flying across the car and lands in the passenger’s seat with a thud. I barely register the glow leaned against the seat before I take in the white of a smile on the other side of my door.

My heart blips like it’s been tased.

Dane grips the top of the car, the sleeves of a white T-shirt slipped back on his arms and exposing his solid biceps. The haze of the lights from the patio creates a spectacular shadow across his face that steals my breath.

“Neely!” Grace’s voice shouts from the other seat. “What the heck just happened?”

“Hey,” Dane says, ignoring the commotion next to me. His cologne, spicy and warm, percolates through the night air.

“Hey,” I reply.

His mouth forms an easy curve. “You gonna get out?”

“Yeah, I . . .” Glancing down in response to the shouted demand from my phone, I sigh. Dealing with Grace, who is going to want answers, doesn’t sound appealing. Neither does trying to tiptoe around the minefield that is Dane Madden. As Grace shouts again, my decision is made. “I need to get that.”

“Sounds like it.”

Bending over the console, I snatch the device. “I’m here. Sorry.”

“What happened? And whose voice did I hear?”

“I dropped the phone.” I look straight ahead, trying to keep my voice void of any emotion whatsoever. “Can I call you tomorrow?”

“No, you can’t call me tomorrow. I mean, you can, but that voice—I need answers. It had that twang that makes me want to . . . This could get awkward.”

“You think?” I choke back a laugh. “Let me call you tomorrow.”

“Call me tonight. Unless you’re taking more of my advice, and in that case, a call after breakfast would be sufficient, you little minx.”

My eyes flip to Dane’s. His arms are now flexed. The lines in his forearms are etched deeply, thicker than I remembered, and I wonder vaguely if they don’t look bigger because of the delicate green and yellow strings around his wrist.

“Neely,” Grace grumbles. “Don’t ignore me.”

“I’m sorry.” Shaking my head, I pull my purse onto my lap. “I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“That’s a good sign!”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“It could be,” she chirps.

“Goodbye, Grace.”

“Go get ’em, tiger.”

Laughing at the purr she adds to the end of her goodbye, I end the call. That’s all it takes to shift everything inside both me and the car.

Dane’s presence is everywhere—outside my door, in the air, and rolling through my blood.

As I look up at his crooked smile brought on by Grace’s antics, which I’m sure he overheard, another zap of energy catapults through my chest. “She’s a bit of a handful,” I say.

“I’d venture to say I’d like her. She sounds fun.”

“She’s fun all right.”

With a chuckle that trickles across my skin, he opens my door. “Unless you drove all the way here just to spy on everyone from the parking lot, let’s go.”

“I’m not spying on anyone.” Even as I say the words, I skim my eyes down his wide neck, the way his shirt drags over the length of his shoulders, and at the narrowing of his sides into the waistband of his jeans.

“Whatever you say.” He steps back, giving me room to exit the car.

My sneakers hit the asphalt. I stand, my legs akin to Jell-O that’s almost perfectly set. They’re just a touch jiggly from the energy careening through me.

You’re a big girl. You can handle this.

The door latches shut.

“I know you aren’t here to see me,” he says. “But I’m glad you’re here anyway.”

“Thanks.” My lips twist, afraid to smile. I look up as a roar of laughter comes from inside the patio area, and the warmth in my chest spreads my lips into the biggest grin. “I’m glad I’m here too. I think.”

“They’ll be happy to see you.” He tucks his chin to his chest and heads the opposite way of the front door.

“Where are you going?” I ask. Pointing the other way, I make a face. “The door’s over there.”

He stops and sighs. “Yeah, and if you go in that way, everyone will stop you, and it’ll be closing time before you get outside. Follow me.” He waits to ensure I do as instructed before turning around and making his way to the corner of the property.