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The backdoor slides open, and Dalton steps through. My gaze meets his, and the reason behind my increased heart rate now takes on a different meaning. Dalton stands shirtless with his tanned skin glistening from sweat. Those black athletic shorts sling low on his hips and showcase every ridge of his hard abdomen that I swear looks positively delectable. Tiny black ringlets peek from under his Cessna U baseball cap that he wears backward. That style drives my father insane, but I find it rather sexy.
Dalton makes his way over to the refrigerator and grabs a bottled water. I try not to stare, but it’s hard not to. I like how he twists the cap off and takes a drink. The way his Adam’s apple bobs up and down with each swallow.
What am I even saying?
I can’t think of that right now. I have more important things to do, like pick up and deliver furniture to the storage unit by the church annex. I spent days getting this arranged. I don’t want to reschedule.
“I know you need help. I’ll take the car, and you can have the truck, but Mr. Barley’s family called. He’s taken another downturn, and they want me beside him.”
I bite back a sigh. I understand their grief and need to hold onto their faith, but in the end, nothing will save him. Or maybe it’s just me God gave up on. “That’s understandable, but the truck does me no good if I don’t have help.”
I can feel Dalton’s eyes on me. I don’t dare look at him in front of Dad. Mr. Hawk Eye will see right through me.
“Call Bobby. He can drive you and help load the heavy things.”
I flinch. Bobby is the last person I want to help me. I’ve kept my visits with Bobby limited. Heck, we’ve only seen each other twice since he returned, once when he demanded I plan a party for him and then again when he found me in the garage with Dalton. The fact I’m relieved instead of being upset tells me everything I need to know. I am not in love with Bobby—never was.
Regardless, I’m desperate, and Dad will ask about him when he returns. I pull up Bobby’s contact and hit send as Dad grabs the keys to the Honda.
“Hello, Cassie. I can’t talk right now.”
“Oh, sorry. I was calling to see if you could help me with the fundraiser.”
“No, I can’t. I’m in Bethel helping the Two Brother’s Church set up their bible study.” Bethel is about thirty miles away from here, which isn’t far. But there’s no way Bobby would ditch helping their church. Helping to spread the Word is his calling or passion if you will, but what about helping me? When does all that volunteerism spill into helping yourself and your relationship with your girlfriend? Shouldn’t that be important as well? I must’ve taken too long to answer because Bobby sighs. “I told you not to take on that added responsibility. It’s overwhelming for you.”
I bite down so hard I almost chip a tooth. Organizing this fundraiser isn’t a burden at all. I’ve found it somewhat rewarding and satisfying. “You’re right, but I did take it on, so it’s my responsibility to follow through.”
A hard thud snaps my attention to the kitchen. Dalton stands there, eying me with a death grip around the plastic bottle he placed on the counter with too much force. I give him a weak smile. I’m sure he thinks I’m being pathetic. He wouldn’t be wrong.
“You’ll just have to cancel. We’ll do it in a few days.”
“Fine.” I don’t remind Bobby this is the week I volunteered for vacation bible school. There’s no point. I’ll grab what I can and worry about the heavy furniture later. “Have fun at bible study.”
As if on autopilot, my phone automatically rings the moment I hang up. I don’t know what I have ever done without a phone before. “Hello.”
My eyes flicker to Dalton. He stands as if he wants to say something.
“Cassie, can you bake three dozen cookies for the day you work vacation bible school?”
“Sure, Mrs. Dudley. I’ll make chocolate chips.”
“Oh, that would be great, but also if you can have another variety, that’d be wonderful. You know these kiddies enjoy choices.”
“Sure thing.” I hang up and glance at Dalton. He stands with his arms crossed over his chest, emphasizing pecs and biceps that have developed more since that summer we were together. He looks sexy. Well, except for the scowl currently occupying his face. He seems mad at me, but I don’t understand why.
“What do you need me to do?” His clipped voice matches his mood.
“You don’t have to—”
“Cassie,” he interrupts, tone demanding. “What do you need help with?”
“Loading and unloading furniture into the truck bed. I have to transport a few items for the summer rummage sale.”
He pushes off the counter. “Let me take a quick shower, and I’ll help.”
“Are you sure?”
He looks over his shoulder at me. “I’m never too busy for you.”
