“No, everything at the house is good to go. It’s about Trent.”
As soon as he said those words, her face changed and the light went out of her eyes. “I figured as much. What’s he done now?”
More likewhohas he done?“I went looking for him earlier today and overheard him on a phone call. I didn’t hear much, but I heard enough to know Trent isn’t being honest with you about something important.”
“I’m going to stop you right there.” She put her ball down. She took a deep breath and cracked a smile. “Michael, I’m having a really good time tonight, the best I’ve had in a while. In fact, I’m not ready for it to end.”
“I can understand that.”
“Then I hope you’ll understand I’m not trying to play ostrich here. I’m not the sort of person to run from my problems, but the fact is I’ve had nothing but problems lately where Trent is concerned. I don’t think I can process another one just yet. At least, not while standing next to a Skee-Ball machine.”
“Okay.”
“Does Trent know you heard his conversation?”
“Yeah. I spoke to him and told him he needed to talk to you or I would.”
“And he obviously hasn’t spoken with me.” Her nostrils flared. “I’ll just ask you one thing. Did you overhear him on the phone with his doctor? Is he dying?”
It figured she’d be worried about him. “No, he’s not dying, at least not that I know.”
“Okay. Here’s what I’m going to do. Whatever it is, I’m going to give Trent some time to tell me. He’ll get the benefit of my doubt for now. But Michael,” she said, laying her hand on his arm, “whatever it is, I won’t forget you came to me first.”
“I was hoping he would have by now.”
“I appreciate that, and I’m sorry he put you in a position, but can we just forget about Trent right now?”
He wanted nothing more. “You bet.”
She handed him a ball. “Here. Take your best shot.”
Michael smoothed his fingers over the ball, wishing he could touch her cheek instead. His attraction to her kept popping up, distracting him like the rodent in a Whack-A-Mole game. He turned to the lane, readied his shot, and tossed the ball.
It hopped into the one-hundred-point receptacle. Great. He still felt like a big, fat zero. At least he received some satisfaction in imagining the ball was Trent’s head.
“Look at you.” Emily bumped him with her hip. “You’re on your way to being the big winner, after all.”
Oh, yeah. Huge winner. He might win the game, but Emily would still go home to Trent tonight. She would slide into bed next to that ingrate, wrap her body around his and whisper ‘I love you,’ before falling asleep in his arms.
Somehow winning a round of Skee-Ball didn’t feel like much of a consolation.
***
“Are you ready to take down a wall?” Michael walked up the driveway toward Emily the next morning.
“Yes, sir.”
If anything, Emily was ready to take down the whole freaking neighborhood, Hulk-style.
Trent hadn’t called all night long, not to tell her about his mysterious conversation, and not even to let her know how his networking went. She’d awoken in a fury after very little sleep, and was now of the opinion she’d already lost too much sleep because of her fiancé.
Thank heavens the universe had provided an opportunity to smash something today. It was demolition day at the house, at least for one of the interior walls, and she couldn’t wait to get started.
If anything, her anger at Trent made her more aware of Michael’s charms. She tried not to stare openly, but he commanded her gaze with his confident stride and molten-chocolate eyes. He was wearing the same sort of outfit he always wore onHandymen. Jeans that fit well, work boots, and a long-sleeved tee that did nothing to camouflage his muscles. Despite the casual wear, he stood out and claimed her attention. Everything and everyone around him seemed to fade away.
Liberace, in all his glory, could have flounced past, waving a candelabra, and she would not have noticed.
Michael came to within inches. Only then did she spy the concern in his eyes. “How was your evening?”
