He leans his forehead down to mine and says, “I’ll see you again soon, Laney. Be ready for a barrage of coupons coming your way when I do.”
I laugh and say, “I don’t know if you’ll ever let that go.”
His voice drops to a whisper and says, “Like I said, no one has ever done something like that for me before.”
My breath catches in my throat, and I want to say something, but after all the admissions he’s given me today, there’s too much emotion to speak.
Burton lets go and gives me a little wave before heading across the street.
I liked the guy before, but things are moving like a runaway train and there’s no way to stop it now.
CHAPTER 18
BURTON
“What’s the issue?” I ask as I walk into the house.
I almost kissed Laney. I was ready for it, going in for her lips, well, still several inches away but attempting, when Stack broke the moment.
“We need help with this game,” Finny says, pointing to the table where Talisman is set out.
Irritation wells in my chest, and I shake my head. “You couldn’t have waited two minutes until I came in for that? How did you even know I was out there?”
Stack grins. “You know our front window has a direct view of Jessa and Laney’s driveway, right?”
I turn to look, seeing Laney’s car in the driveway. “Good to know.”
“You two looked like you were getting close,” Finny says, giving me a knowing look. “Anything happen?”
Do I want to talk about the snail-like progress between me and Laney? Then again, we’ve only known each other for a couple of weeks. And yet it feels like longer.
“She was just saying thank you for doing yard work at her grandparents’ farm.”
There’s a long beat of silence before Stack says, “How in the world did you get roped into that?”
I wave a hand through the air and say, “It’s a long story, but my sister signed me up for a service project, and it turns out it was to help clean up the farm.”
“Why do you have a black eye?” Finny asks.
I reach up and tenderly touch my nose. “Laney punched me.”
There’s another pause before they laugh.
“Laney punched you?” Stack asks.
I nod and walk over to the fridge to pull out a carton of orange juice.
“It was an accident.”
“Enlighten us,” Jackson says, walking in from the laundry room.
“That’s a big word for you, Jackson,” Finny says, laughing.
What do I say? “I was at the property and saw her over by the goats?—”
“It’s a real farm?” Jackson asks.
“Yes, it’s an actual farm, just not hundreds of acres. Anyway, she was there feeding the chickens?—”
