Page 29

Liam’s fingers wrap around Dillon’s shoulder, pulling him back as he steps forward. He’s wearing worn jeans that ride low on his hips, and a pink T-shirt with what I’m assuming is his squadron logo stretched across his chest.

“Whitney.”

“Hey.” I glance to Dillon who’s still standing there.

“Dillon,” Liam turns towards his son, “this is Whitney James. She’s Ben’s teacher and a neighbor a few doors down.”

“Ohhh… You’re Jenna’s mom. I was wondering why you looked familiar. You guys look almost identical. It’s crazy.”

“Yeah, well, don’t tell her that she looks exactly like a forty-year-old, or she might die of embarrassment.”

He laughs. “No way. You’re gorgeous. She should be proud.”

Heat creeps up my neck, my cheeks warm.

“All right, Casanova, that’s enough.” He pats his son’s shoulder before maneuvering him out of the doorway. “Move on. There’s nothing here for you to see.” Liam takes a step outside the house, crowding my space, so I step back. “Sorry, I’ve got a house full right now, and there’s no way I’d invite you into the chaos.”

“It’s okay. I totally understand. I didn’t let you know that I’d be stopping by, and really, I couldn’t let you know since I didn’t have your number or anything.”

“True. Let’s rectify that situation right now.” He pulls his phone from his pocket and looks at me, ready to insert my number. I must look like a deer caught in the head lights because his face softens a bit. “It’s just a number, Whitney. We’re neighbors.”

I look up at him. “What?”

“The look on your face.” He points to me. “There wasn’t anything pleasant about it. If you don’t want to exchange numbers, that’s okay, I under–”

“No! No, it’s okay. You’re right. It’s no big deal. Here, give me your phone, and I’ll give you mine.”

“Only if you’re sure.”

I laugh, the awkwardness no longer present as I hand him my phone. Once we take care of the number part, I bring up the reason for my visit. “So I got a package today.”

He smirks. “Did you now?”

“Yeah, do you know anything about it?” I cross my arms over my chest, trying to give my best ‘pissed’ look I can conjure.

He scoffs, putting his hands on his chest. “Me?” He winks. “Why would I know anything about that?” He laughs his throaty laugh, and the sound makes my knees weak.

“Thank you, Liam. You’ve got a great sense of humor. I appreciate it.”

He looks a bit embarrassed, so he drops his head, rubbing the back of his neck. When he brings it back up, he smiles. “Did you at least read it?”

My body shakes with silent laughter. Smiling, I shake my head.

“You may be missing out on the novel of the century.” He throws his hands up in the air, “You never know if you don’t take a chance. What is it that they say, ‘don’t judge a book by its cover.’”

“I’ll take my chances,” I respond.

His chest draws up with a deep breath. “Do you think, once you’re up for it, that you wouldn’t mind if I ran with you in the mornings?” He looks out into the neighborhood, “I don’t really have any friends outside the base, and most of those guys are living on base.” His gaze locks with mine. “If not, that’s okay–”

“No.” I wring my hands together. “No, that would be good. I’d like that. A running buddy is always a good thing.”

A smile breaks out across his face. “All right, okay. Cool. So just text me when you feel up to it.” He rubs his hand down the back of his hair before points back the door. “I gotta get back. Who knows what the kids have been up to while I’ve been out here.”

“Yeah, okay.” I tuck my hair behind my ear. “That sounds like a plan. I’ll text you when I feel up to it.” I stand there, not sure what to do next. His eyes fall to my hand, and that’s when I remember that I’m still holding the plastic bag. “Oh. Here.”

He takes it from me. “What’s this?”

“Something I thought you’d need. I picked it up last night while I was at the store.”

When he opens the bag, when he sees what’s inside he starts to laugh again. He pulls out the tube and shows it to me. “Self-tanning lotion?”

“What can I say? I’m a neighbor who likes to help.”

“Well, thank you. I wouldn’t want to be mistaken as a fictional character with green hair and orange skin.”

“You’re welcome. Don’t say I never did anything for you.” I place one foot behind another, twisting myself around so I can head home.

“Night, Whitney,” Liam calls after me.

“’Night, Liam,” I yell back over my shoulder as I continue on my way.