Page 29 of Lucky Haven

I blush.

His eyes soften immediately. “I’m not teasing you.”

“It’s okay. I deserve some teasing after getting drunk and saying ridiculous things to you. But seriously, I don’t want to take advantage of you.”

“You aren’t. And actually, you’d be helping me out, too.”

“How on earth?”

“Well, I need a date.”

I laugh. “You have no shortage of options there.” I wave my hand toward the window, to all of Dragonfly Creek and the Foothills beyond. Heck, Cash probably has his Tinder settings to include Calgary to the north and Lethbridge to the south. He might even include Fernie in there, to get the rich BC girls.

“I don’t want options. It’s not that kind of a date. It’s special.” He gives me a crooked smile. “And I wasn’t going to ask you, because you’re a good girl and I’m an ex-con and all that, but since you’ve embarked on this tough girl image do-over, and we know that you don’t hate kissing me…”

He curves over me.

I step back and immediately bump into the big metal desk that dominates his small office.

He braces his hands on either side of my hips and grins at me. “Don’t you even want to know what the date is for?” He pauses for effect. “Zane’s getting married.”

“That’s…amazing. Soon?”

He nods. “In two weeks, apparently. And…Hope is expecting a baby.”

“Oh.” Another baby on the way definitely puts an urgency on the timeline, though. And that vicious gossip will hurt even more.

Cash nods grimly. “You get it now. We need to make sure it’s a special day and not let any of that talk intrude.”

“Let them talk,” I say softly. “Someone really smart told me that.”

He barks a laugh. “Nobody’s ever accused me of being smart, Lucky.”

I try not to flinch at the old nickname.

He notices anyway. His brows pull tight. “What?”

“Nothing. We were talking about how smart you are.”

“You don’t like being called Lucky?”

“Not really. Tell me about the wedding.”

He gives me a look that says we’re going to circle back to the nickname thing at some point. “It’s at the ranch. Just family, but then they’re going to Raspberry Jamboree to celebrate after. I want you to come with me.”

“What will we tell your family?”

He crosses his thick, tattooed forearms in front of his chest. “The truth. We’ve been friends for a long time. I’m obviously no good for you, but I come into the library once a week anyway, and an unlikely connection was forged through books, and dinners, and really incredible kisses.”

“Incredible?”

“I like kissing you, too, Haven.”

My breath catches in my throat. Suddenly the office feels impossibly small.

“Every chance I get, I’ll make that clear from here on out. And I wouldn’t be making any apologies for it afterward, either.”

I have a response to that somewhere. I’m sure I do. I’m a reasonably intelligent woman with a graduate degree and a fully functional vocabulary.