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“He seems too”—I pause in search of the right word—“unfocused.”
“He’s not on the clock yet.”
“Perfect. Less paperwork for Sam.”
He doesn’t try to hide his amusement. “Boss, if you don’t mind me making a suggestion…”
Working with Ryder for seven years comes with many advantages but also a few caveats, such as his ability to read me better than my own mother sometimes. I blame his military background and fascination with too many true crime shows.
“Go ahead.” My deep sigh doesn’t deter his knowing smile.
“If you don’t want him around, then you’ll have to find someone to replace him.”
“Do you know any retired female carpenters?”
His laugh comes out like a low rumble. “I never thought I’d see the day someone got under your skin.”
I peek over at him through the corner of my eye. “Dahlia doesn’t have to try too hard.”
“Exactly.”
“Don’t you have a job to do or someone to manage?”
He holds up his clipboard. “Nope. I was actually about to go hand Dan some paperwork to sign before he starts working.”
I snatch the paperwork from his hand. “Hold on.”
His lips twitch. “Problem, sir?”
Dahlia shooting Dan a soft smile answers his question for me. Like a shot to the heart, the pain radiates through my chest.
Feeling jealousy toward Oliver was understandable given our history, but getting overwhelmingly frustrated at any man within her vicinity? That’s a whole different issue I never thought I would have to face in this lifetime.
It was easy to ignore my feelings for her when she lived states away, but it wasn’t until she returned to Lake Wisteria that I felt myself drowning in the what-ifs.
What if I hadn’t made the choices I did after my dad died?
What if I had processed my grief differently and stepped up to be the person Dahlia deserved?
Would she have heard me out and given us a chance to fall in love? Or would we have gotten together only to realize we were better off apart?
My world spins around me as I consider the possibilities.
Attempting to avoid her clearly hasn’t been working, so what are you going to do now?
“I have an idea.” Ryder fidgets with the pencil tucked behind his ear.
“What?”
“If you don’t want to hire Dan because he seemsunfocused,”—Ryder shoots me a knowing look—“there is one guy I’ve heard who could easily replace him.”
“Who?”
“You.”
“Really?” Excitement bleeds into Dahlia’s voice.
The wood step creaks beneath my shoe as I pause halfway down the stairs. Dahlia doesn’t notice my presence as she walks toward the back of my truck, disappearing from my view.
