“All right. Thanks, Ladybug.”
“I got you,” Layla assures me.
When I stand and peer over at Delaney, the sweet smile on her face as she watches Layla gives me hope. Maybe a damn cute six-year-old wingman is exactly what I need to help my Bets see there’s something here.
Chapter Thirty
Delaney
Over the next few minutes, we all pitch in to clean up. While Imeanto leave before everyone else, somehow Henry, Tillie, and the girls finish up first and head out before me.
I grab the sweater I keep at the office—thankful I remembered to bring it with me—and turn toward Harrison.
“Thanks for a really nice night. I appreciate you guys inviting me.”
Harrison’s green eyes meet mine, his brow creasing slightly. “You’re welcome. But it looks as if you think you’re walking back to your car by yourself. You’re not.”
I open my mouth to argue, then decide it’s not a hill worth dying on.
“Okay. Well, let’s go, then.”
A few minutes later, when we’re still about fifteen feet away from my car, Teresa, I notice her telltale lopsided stance. Great. A flat tire—again.
I stop walking, and he follows my lead.
“This is far enough,” I say, trying to shoo him off. I don’t need help.
“Why?” He narrows his eyes at me, and I realize I need to act cool if I don’t want him to realize I have a flat. I ignore the voice in the back of my head asking what the big deal is if he knows. That voice is needy and doesn’t get a say.
“Remember when you said you’d open doors for me when we were in a car together?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, you’re not getting inthiscar. So, we can say goodbye here.”
“I wasn’t inviting myself.” He grins. “But if I were…” There’s a flirty air to his words, and he takes a step closer to me.
I push him lightly in the arm, not even enough to move him. When I realize he’s not going to give in that easily, I resume walking. I really want to keep him away from the driver’s side, but he makes it clear that’s not going to happen. Instead, I do my best to block his view—trying to keep my body between him and Teresa’s poor, sagging tire.
He opens my door, so I slide into the driver’s seat and start the engine.
“Thank you for a lovely night,” I say.
“I should be thanking you. Everybody loves you. Layla says you’re cheery, like her.”
I smile. “I’ll take that as a huge compliment.”
“It was nice having you there.” His voice softens, and when I look in his eyes, there’s a look there I remember seeing once or twice on that first night we met.
He still hasn’t shut my door. Before I realize what’s happening, he leans down and brushes a tender kiss on my cheek. Then, he stands upright, closes my door gently, and steps back onto the trail.
He gives me a slight wave, and I nod in return.
Ineedhim to leave—because I know if I start driving, the tire’s low enough it’s going to sound like a helicopter. But he stands there, hands in his jeans pockets, looking ridiculously gorgeous and watching me.
I open my window and gesture with my hand for him to go.
His eyebrows lift toward his forehead, and he shakes his head.
