Tumble (Dogwood Lane, #1)(47)

“I don’t regret dating you anymore,” I say softly.

“You mean you used to?”

“Yeah. I mean, I’ve spent a lot of nights in a shitty apartment in the city wondering what your little family life was like down here. I felt shafted, to be honest.”

“And I spent a lot of nights home alone with a baby, wondering what you were doing in the big city. I felt, like, jealous sometimes, to be honest.” He moves his neck back and forth. “This shirt is killing me.”

My fingers dig into the grass in a futile attempt to keep from reaching over to him. But the longer I look at the way the sun kisses his skin, noticing the way my heart feels full as he looks at me and smiles, the more the resistance wanes.

“Here. Let me help you,” I say. Stretching across the space between us, I unfasten a button. My fingers tremble as they brush against his skin, freeing the top two spots.

He watches me closely, the warmth of his body washing over me. I wonder if he’s thinking about the possibilities of undoing all the buttons, of shedding his shirt. Of removing my dress.

Before I pull away, he sits up. We’re inches apart. My heart races as my mouth goes dry.

His eyes shine, the gold flecks brighter than even the greens. “For the record,” he whispers, “I haven’t regretted kissing you once.”

“For the record,” I say, forcing a swallow, “if I lived around here, I’d have a hard time not kissing you more.”

That’s all it takes. My stomach whirls like a banshee as he leans up and touches his lips to mine. I don’t close my eyes; I want to see and feel everything.

His lips are soft, his breath hot against my mouth. His lashes full as they lie splayed against his cheeks. Just as we pull apart, a flurry of giggles rings out from behind a shrub above us.

I cover my face with my hands and try to quiet the racket in my body. I want to shriek, to fist pump, to call Grace and tell her right freaking now like a juvenile that Dane kissed me. But none of those options are appropriate for a woman nearing thirty—especially a woman nearing thirty who will most likely be regretting this decision shortly.

“Get back to the church,” he shouts, although it’s laced with a laugh. He gets to his feet, offering me a hand. “We better get back before those three start telling people all kinds of stories.”

He helps me up, and I follow him along the trail toward the church. We stop at the trench and he turns to me. “For the record, I don’t regret that kiss either.” He then flashes me the widest smile and hops to the other side.

I take his hand and make it across more gracefully this time. “For the record,” I say, looking at his handsome face, “I don’t either.”

I leave him standing behind me.





CHAPTER SIXTEEN

DANE

A drill rips through the air behind me. Close. Too close. I jump a mile.

“Damn it, Penn,” I say. The set of plans in my hand ripple as I wipe my brow. “It’s too early for your bullshit.”

“It’s almost noon,” he cracks. “Besides, when did you get so jumpy?”

I ignore his question, mostly because I don’t have an answer, and lay the plans out on the floor instead. “Come here,” I say, motioning for him to crouch with me. “We can’t finish this trim until the concrete guy comes in and works his magic on the floors.”

Penn lowers himself. “Yeah, but that’s the general contractor’s problem. Not ours.”

“We’re ahead of schedule. I called the contractor, and they’re going to see if the concrete guy can get up here in the next week or so. In the meantime, let’s jump to the pergola in the back tomorrow and see if we can wrap up what we can.”

“Sounds good.”

The rumble of tires on gravel catches our attention. We stand and wait for the car to appear. Penn’s face lights up when he sees it’s Haley.

“Can you not hump her leg?” I mutter.

“Her leg isn’t what I want to hump.”

Sighing in exasperation, I head across the grass. Haley is out of the car, and Mia’s right behind her.

“Hey, Dad!” My daughter heads toward me with a book tucked under her arm. She beams. “We’ve been to the library today. I know you’re over the whole bedtime story thing—”

“Because you’re old enough to read to me at this point.”

“You’ll miss it one day.” She shrugs as if she’s challenging me to argue that. I can’t. “Anyway, I got a couple of new books. I think you’re going to love them.”

I look at Haley. “Did you have her get something about baseball? Grilling? Camping?”

“No,” Mia says. “But I did have to check out one about a boy that gets lost in the woods. He lives in a tree or something. That’s right up your alley. Not really mine, but . . .”

“It’s called expanding your horizons,” Haley insists, coming up next to us. “I’m all for princesses, but it’s time for a change.”

“Uncle Matt!” Mia abandons us in favor of my brother. Once she’s out of earshot, I know I’m in trouble. Haley’s shit-eating grin is legendary.

“So . . . ,” she says.

“So, what?”