“How’re you doing today?” The hot guy’s voice is familiar.
I crane my neck, trying to get a look at his face. The boxes are already piled high on the countertop. I get the occasional glimpse of dark hair over the top of the boxes as he stacks the cans in the drawer.
“A little tired from this heat. But okay. My sister Poppy’s organized these visits, but they’re really for the dog.”
“Well, this dog’s got enough chow to keep him happy for the next month. How’d you do it?” The cans clank as he stacks them. Moose lumbers to the kitchen to watch the guy.
“Do what?”
“The ankle.”
“Oh.” I try to place his voice. He sounds Snowflake born and bred. “I fell off a ladder while helping my sister paint the porch. Meant to be here for a week, but it turned into a longer stay. I get the boot off in a few days, then go back to the city. You sound like you’re from around here?”
“I’m kinda devastated you don’t recognize my voice,Goldie.”
I freeze in place. “Wait a second. There’s only one guy who used to call me that and he sure as shizzle wouldn’t be volunteering…”
“What makes you say that?” His tone is amused.
“Stop lurking behind those boxes and come out here where I can see you!” My heart is thumping in my chest.
“Nearly done…hold your horses.”
I take a deep breath as he closes the drawer and walks around from behind the boxes. Moose wags his tail.
“Dean Frickin’ Montag. No way.”
“Are you starstruck, Goldie? I thought you weren’t impressed by arrogant athletes. You told me that more than once in school.”
I let my breath out. Dean towers over me on the couch with his hands on his hips, a stupidly wide beaming smile on his ridiculously handsome face. Why the fudge does he look so delighted to see me?
“I’m not impressed.” My voice doesn’t sound convincing, so I double down. “In fact,Dean, I’m sounimpressedthat I want you to tell the church I need a new volunteer. ASAP.”
His wide grin falters for a second. “That won’t be possible. You’re stuck with me. And this isn’t a church thing. Unless you want it to be? I can still remember some hymns.”
“Stop teasing me, Dean. Who’s in charge?”
“The minister. He has the flu. I’m the backup.”
“But you aren’t religious. At least…you weren’t in high school.”
“Why do you say that?” Dean’s hazel eyes are curious as he crouches down so he’s on my level. He’s wearing a spicy cologne that does something to my already-addled brain.
“Because anyone with an ounce of faith wouldn’t have been such a jerk to me all the time. Or is this some kind of penance thing?” I draw myself up on the sofa, wincing as I jostle my leg again.
“I’m an EMT. I work for the fire department. You’re in safe hands. Anyway, I thought I was mainly needed for the dog. What’s this handsome boy called?”
“Moose.” I cross my arms in front of my chest.
“Here’s what I’ll do. I’m going to pour you a glass of icy cold lemonade. Then I’m taking Mr. Moose here for a walk while you get used to the fact that I’m your volunteer. It’s either me or nothing, and you can’t walk the dog, Goldie.”
I grunt.
“I’ll take that as a yes.” He grins, his eyes crinkling at the corners. It’s one of those smiles that make you want to smile too. I have to remind myself not to get taken in by his superficial charm. Despite what he says, there’s no way I can trust him. Even if he makes my heart race and my stomach flip, I have to be careful.
Dean Montag is the enemy.
Chapter Two
