Tumble (Dogwood Lane, #1)(5)
She shoves the cup into my hand.
“Um, thanks,” I say, still uncertain whether to accept it. “Let me at least give you a tip.”
“I add ten percent on Dane’s bill every month. No worries.” She winks, moving to miss Dane’s shoulder bump. “Will you be in town long? I want to catch up.”
“Probably not. A couple of days at most.”
“Well, I’ll find you.” She glances toward the kitchen. “I really do gotta go. Talk to you soon.”
“Okay. Bye, Claire,” I say, giving her a little wave.
With each step she takes away from us, the air grows thicker. I used to know without looking when Dane walked into biology class. I swore the air changed. Standing this close to him now, I believe my assessment back then was probably true. The space around him is charged with some invisible, magnetic energy I can’t describe but that pricks at the very fiber of my being.
Jerk.
“Thank you for the coffee,” I say, finding my voice. “I will say I’m kind of surprised you remembered how I like it.”
“Not a big deal.”
My stomach flutters like a teenage girl’s, and I try to override the sensation and remind myself I’m a grown woman. A capable woman. A smart one—a smart enough one not to be dazzled by his smirk.
He’s a couple of steps away, but it feels as if he’s right up against me. My shirt clings to my chest, the air so warm my lungs almost refuse it.
He twists his Dodgers cap backward. As if I need more of a reason for my heartbeat to go wild, I get a better look at his face. His skin is tanned, a couple of days’ worth of stubble scattered on his cheeks. Under his left eye is a purplish mar, and I can only begin to imagine where that came from.
“How have you been?” he asks, tapping his thumb against the side of his cup.
“Great.”
“Where you living these days?”
“New York,” I say, wishing I’d prepared more for this scenario. As I stand in front of him, I mentally smack myself for not thinking this through.
“New York? Nice.”
“Yeah. I love it there. What about you? How have you been?”
“Doing good. Been working on a house up on Zion’s Hill. Some lawyer from Nashville bought it and is completely redoing the whole place. About done with it, though.”
“Carpentry?”
His lips purse and he nods.
“Took after your dad, after all.”
We exchange a soft, genuine smile. The mention of his father settles over the ball of frayed nerves in my stomach, softening it a touch.
I always loved Nick Madden. He worked hard, was kind of a hard-ass, but was as sweet as pie when you got to know him. He loved me too. He taught me how to change the oil in my car and to throw a punch—just in case I ever needed to know.
“How is he?” I ask, knowing I shouldn’t.
“Same. Busting my ass all the time.”
“You probably need it.” I grin, ignoring the ease of the words. “There are worse things than taking after him, you know.”
“I kind of fell into it.” Dane shrugs, bringing a hand to his cheek and sliding it over his chin. A yellow-and-green bracelet is wrapped around his wrist, the colors emulating the hues of his eyes. “Got laid off at the mill a few years back. Didn’t really have a choice. But I kind of like it.”
I bring my cup to my mouth. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell your dad you said that.”
He laughs. “Please don’t. I’d never hear the end of it.”
My laugh melts together with his, and for this one split second, I breathe easy and enjoy a familiarity I haven’t had with anyone in so long. “How’s your brother?”
“Same. Total asshole. But Matt works for me now, so that gives me some leverage.”
“I bet that’s a fun day on the jobsite.”
“It’s a real treat.” He regrips his cup, the veins in his forearm flexing. “We work together pretty well, actually. We have quite a little crew. Get a lot of work.”
My eyes travel up his muscled bicep, over his wide shoulders, and up his thick neck. I gulp. “I bet you’re good at it.” I think back to the way he could strum a guitar or fix practically anything. “You always were good with your hands.”
As soon as the words pass my lips, I realize what I’ve done. He fights a smirk. I want to die.
“Thanks,” he quips, the smirk growing by the second.
Sticking the coffee between us, I shake my head. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“I’m sure you didn’t.”
Pulling the cup to my lips to hide my errant blush, I override the part of my brain telling me to leave. A grin kisses his lips, and I hold my breath for whatever is to come.
“If anyone would know how good I am at anything, it would be you,” he says.
It’s true at face value, but the innuendo is right there for the taking. My thighs clench together as I consider what Dane could do to me now. With that body. With those lips. With that damn smirk.
The latter grows deeper. He thinks he has me. He might be right. But just as he might not completely be the bad boy next door anymore, I’m also not the naive teenager who wears her heart on her sleeve. And I’m definitely not a fool.