Page 23

His brows furrow, and it immediately hits me in the head that he wasn’t stealing a look at me.

He was too busy being interested in the ground.

“Ya need somethin’?” he finally asks after a few seconds.

“No.” I shake my head because I’m discouraged, and I may as well forget about it. Henry Abbott isn’t into me.

Period.

End of story.

“Then why ya’d turn around so fast? Were you lookin’ to see if I was starin’ at your ass⁠—”

“You weren’t.”

“I was,” he drawls like he wasn’t checking me out. “I’m just too good not to get caught.”

My eyes narrow. “Ya don’t need to lie about it.”

“And why would I lie about it?” He cocks his head to the side and hold it like he wouldn’t need to make up stories about looking at my butt.

Now I feel stupid.

“And?”

Dodger looks over my head, and I don’t know if it’s because he doesn’t want to answer me or he’s making sure he can. “Don’t start somethin’ that’s just for fun, AK. I’m not the hit-it-or-quit-it kinda guy.”

“Never said you were.”

“Then what’s with the new attention? Ya lonely or somethin’?”

To any other girl, that might be insulting.

However, I know Dodger has a lot on the line. He’s a public figure. He has a lot of responsibility, and his reputation is important.

But I’m not looking to play games. I’d love to explore a relationship with Dodger outside of random flirts and teases.

I want what my brother and his wife have.

Love, a marriage, a happy home, a few kids, and a future.

I’m not that complicated.

I love dogs, rom-coms, and pretty dresses.

That’s it.

There’s no other explanation. Either Dodger doesn’t want anything besides my random phone calls to the Sheriff’s Office, or he’s walking with caution.

The kind of caution that makes me want to tear the yellow tape off and see what kind of trouble I can really get into.

“Or somethin’,” I deadpan, because I don’t know exactly what I’m going to do just yet, but I think I’m ready to amp my flirting game up a tad.

Dodger scans my face, looking for clues, but he’s not going to get any. Instead, I’m going to push him into admitting things he may not do any other time.

“Why are ya still here, Dodger?” I press, stealing an inch and posing innocence. “Obviously, my greenhouse didn’t tear down half the town, so I’d expect you’d be spendin’ your day off elsewhere.”

“Your dad not-so-subtly asked for help.”