“Oh, come on,” I scoffed. “You’re intrigued, and you know it.”
He smirked and shook his head. “And Hallmark movies?”
“They’re all about the romance. The worst thing that happens is there’s a misunderstanding between the hero and heroine. There’s always a quirky town, and a lot of the time, there’s a real Santa running around, granting wishes.”
He took a moment to consider it. “And why do you like the Lifetime ones better?”
“They’re just more exciting. The Hallmark movies have very little conflict.”
“Ah.” He broke into a wide grin. “You watch them with your storyteller hat on.”
“Yeah.” I was sheepish. “Don’t you do the same thing?”
“I look at the structure of movies and television shows,” he admitted. “I can’t seem to help myself, even though I’m convinced that takes some of the joy out of the viewing.”
“Yeah, I can see that.” I resumed walking. “I like to be a judgmental jerk when I’m watching, though. I can’t help it.”
He laughed again. “Yeah, I do that too. Do you think that makes us unlikable?”
I shrugged. “I don’t really care. Do you?”
“I used to. I’m not so sure any longer.”
“Well, let me know when you decide.”
IT TURNED OUT THAT WHEN BRODY SAID HEwas going for a walk, he meant a hike. I figured we would go forthirty minutes and turn around. Two hours later, we were finally heading back onto my street.
“Everything hurts,” I complained, wiping the back of my hand over my forehead. I’d finished my water an hour before and was dying. “Why did you do that to me?”
“Exercise is good for you. I exercise every single day.”
I gave him a dark glare. “Are you defective?”
He chuckled. “No. I just … my mother and I always walked together until she got too sick for it. Now when I’m walking, sometimes I pretend I’m walking with her.”
I went soft all over. “And you invited me to interrupt your private time with your mother?”
“I just didn’t want to walk alone today for some reason.” He averted his gaze. “It’s not a big deal.”
Because he obviously didn’t want me to dwell on it—something I would have ignored before I’d gotten to know him—I let it go. “It’s too hot to walk like that every day.”
“I don’t even notice the heat any longer.” He shrugged. “I grew up here. Not on Skidaway Island but in the Victorian District. Then I left for college and came back. I literally don’t even notice the heat now.”
I tried to picture that. “I wonder if I’ll get that way.”
“Do you want to get that way?”
“I would prefer it to this.” I gestured toward my tank top. I’d sweated so much it was soaking wet.
He looked down, right at my boobs, then jerked up his chin. His cheeks flushed hot, and it wasn’t because of the heat. Why I was so excited about that, I couldn’t say. We were friends—or rather, friendly. Nothing he had said or done suggested he wanted anything else.
I didn’t either—I didn’t have time for that. I was on deadline and still figuring out my new home. That whole torture-the-board-of-the-Landings thing was going to be taking up a lotof time. I wasn’t looking for romance. Heck, I was terrible at romance. How uncomfortable would it be if we dated for two weeks and then broke up? That would be worse than how things had been between us before. I didn’t want that. Not even a little.
“You should take a shower,” he said in a rusty voice. “Just don’t make it too cold. The shock of the temperature change could make you pass out.”
I had to take a moment to absorb that. “Um … okay.”
“I need a shower too,” he said matter-of-factly. “I’ll drop you off at home and then head out.”
