Page 2 of Nothing At All

I grinned. He was adorably quirky. “What is that about?”

He snorted, a small, frustrated sound. “You care if we pick up my neighbor? She’s going to the Millhouse, too, and her car won’t start.”

“Um, sure.” She couldn’t get a ride share? Coney was a small town, but not that small, since it had three whole drivers on the app.

“She’ll have to find a ride home.” He shot me a grin, fingers flying over his screen. “I’m not planning to go back to my place.”

I watched him lope around to the driver’s side. I loved watching him move – he claimed not to have been athletic in high school, more of a gamer, but he’d run cross country. He had a long, lean look to him, coupled with broad shoulders, but he also spent an hour or so in the gym regularly, something he claimed was a necessity to counteract the time spent in a patrol car and to keep him fit for duty.

He was fit, for sure.

While he navigated out of my neighborhood, I eyed the flex of muscles in his forearms. And his biceps bulged under the sleeve of his gray t-shirt. Why was that so darn hot, anyway?

I darted a quick look at his profile. “Do I know her?”

“Nicole?” His brows dipped into a slight frown. “I don't think so.”

I nodded, watching the library and Brooks Auto flash by. “How long have you known her?”

“Like all my life.” He shrugged, slowing for a red light. The white marble courthouse loomed, lit up on the square. “Grew up next door to each other.”

“Oh.” I hadn't heard about her, so she couldn't be that big a part of his life, right?

“She and Lydia used to play together sometimes when they were little.” He tapped his thumb on the wheel, and there was that lean muscle that ran from across his hand and along the side of his arm again. “Did you want to look at that cabin? I can text you the link later.”

“Um, yeah.” I rested my hand on his thigh and squeezed. “Of course.”

The light flared green, muscles shifting under my hand when he accelerated. The next light remained green, and he hooked a left just beyond the combined fire station and police department. The residential neighborhood, a blend of small, modest homes and sprawling ranch houses, opened up around us.

He turned into the driveway next to his mother's home and tapped the horn. I frowned at the smaller ranch that crowded the property line. “I thought these neighbors moved to Florida.”

“They did.” With a slight huff of frustration, he glared at his watch. “Nicole moved in here when she came home from college so she didn't have to rent anymore.”

A moment passed, silence stretching taut, and I almost smiled. She was messing with his timeline, and it bothered him.

The only woman allowed to be late in his life was me.

I'd initiated activities a couple of times that led to us being tardy - one memorable occasion making us miss a dinner reservation - and he never grew huffy like this.

Finally, the front door opened, and the tall blonde paused on the front porch before turning in a slow circle to lock the door. Was she posing?

Flicking her tousled hair over her shoulder, she swanned down the steps and to the car, hips swaying, steps constrained by her short skirt. Dan popped the locks.

She pulled my door open. “Hey, sweetie, thanks so much-“

The words died, her eyes and mouth rounded in surprise as she registered my presence.

Sweetie?

Oh, I thought not.

I pinned her with an unsmiling look and tightened my fingers on Dan's thigh.

She tilted her chin and leaned down to smile at him, the rounded edge of her top clinging to her cleavage for dear life. “I didn't know you had someone with you.”

“Um, yeah, my girlfriend. Lila.” He flicked a finger toward the backseat. “Get in. We're going to be late.”

Lips plumped into a pout, she shifted her weight to push one hip to the side. “I can't ride in the back. I get carsick. Trade with me?”