It's Monday night now, and I'm at The Lucky Tap trying very hard to focus on work and failing spectacularly. I've poured the wrong beer twice, given someone else's order to the wrong table, and almost dropped an entire tray of glasses because my brain decided that was the perfect moment to replay Troy saying I'm not going anywhere, Ainsley.
"Okay, spill," Steph says, appearing at my elbow while I'm restocking napkins behind the bar.
I don't look at her. "Spill what?"
"Whatever's got you so distracted you just put limes in someone's Coors Light."
I wince. "I did?"
"You did. Lucky for you, he thought it was hilarious." She leans against the bar, arms crossed, studying me with that look that says she already knows what's wrong. "So, what happened?"
"Nothing happened."
"Ainsley."
I exhale hard and set down the napkin dispenser. "Troy helped me in my garden yesterday."
Steph's eyebrows shoot up. "Troy helped you in your garden? Your sacred, off-limits, don't-even-look-at-it garden?"
"Yes," I mutter.
She stares at me like I just told her I joined a cult. "And you let him?"
"He asked. And he said he'd follow all my instructions. No improvising, no deciding he knew better." I fidget with a coaster on the bar. "He was great, actually. Listened to everything I said. Didn't take over."
"That's…" Steph trails off, something like wonder in her expression. "Wow. Okay. So what else happened?"
Everything. Nothing. I don't even know where to start.
"We talked," I say finally. "About my grandma. Kelsey. His dad dying while he was deployed, and him getting shot, and why he came to Evergreen Lakes."
Steph's expression softens. "That's good, Ains. That's really good."
"And then we almost kissed."
She goes still. "Almost?"
"Almost." My voice comes out smaller than I'd like. "I pulled away at the last second and ran inside like a complete idiot."
"Why?"
"Because I'm terrified!" The words burst out of me, too loud, and I lower my voice. "I'm terrified, Steph. What if I screw this up? What if it gets messy, and he leaves and I can't afford the mortgage and I lose the house? What if he's just being nice and I'm reading everything wrong and I make a fool of myself? What if—"
"Ainsley." Steph's hand lands on mine, firm and grounding. "Breathe."
I suck in a breath, then another, trying to slow my racing heart.
"Okay," she says. "Let's break this down. Do you think Troy's into you?"
I think about the way he looked at me in the garden. The way his voice went rough when he said I'm glad I came. The way his gaze keeps finding mine, even when he's pretending not to stare.
"Yes," I whisper.
"And are you into him?"
My face heats. "You already know the answer to that."
"I want to hear you say it."
