"Yes, dinner ... could work. Is Vance's place open during the winter?" I ask, trying to think of the name of it. I should find out if Dolly likes fancy food, though. Babs and Ms. Diane exchange a look, but they don't have time to respond because the kitchen door slams open, and I whip my head around bracing myself.
Thankfully, it's Whitney Moore, and she's yelling at Flint, Dean, and Hale, who do not look disturbed in the least by her ire. What I wouldn't give to be that comfortable around Dolly.
I'm still contemplating date options when I see her. Dolly's wavy blonde hair bobs above the crowd, giving me a peek of her before my view is cut off again as people move back and forth from the bar. I watch the top of Dolly's head as she stops to talk to Whitney, who scrambles up on a barstool and locks eyes with me before pointing my way.
Shit.
I need time. Time to plan. Time to breathe. Time to become a different person.
This is the most spontaneous thing I've ever done in my life, and I'm worried if I try to talk to her now, then I'll just screw everything up. I'm a measure twice, cut once kind of guy, born and raised. It's an attitude that comes in handy when I'm felling trees in the woods, but I don't have the foggiest clue what I'm supposed to do when it comes to love.
Babs and Ms. Diane both look at me expectantly when I turn their way, and I nod once before booking it to the door of the bar.
Once outside, I run like a scared little boy or at least walk quickly to my truck. Sliding into the driver's side, I place both hands on the wheel and stare straight ahead.
Holy shit.
Why is that the only damn thing my brain can think right now?
"Go back in there and talk to her, you idiot." I fog up the windows yelling at myself. It's a habit I've picked up over the years. Kind of like, if a tree falls in the forest and nobody is around, does it make a sound? If nobody hears you talking to yourself, then it's just loud thinking. It's not crazy unless you expect someone to answer you back.
Fuck me. Dolly deserves an explanation, and I need to man up. Take responsibility for my actions.
I pull my key from the ignition, then take a couple deep breaths, preparing to head back in and face my fate. Suddenly, the passenger door opens. I lift my fists on instinct.
My heart stops when Dolly climbs up into the seat and slams the door before turning to me looking like she's about to spit fire.
"And just where in the hell do you think you're going, Silas Jansen?"
Chapter two
Dolly
The scent of Silas washes over me. Clean, woodsy, mixed with the citrus from his shampoo. It's one of my favorite things about him, and it used to pain me to wash it out of his hair each month. I stalked the shelves at the market, assuming he would most likely buy his shampoo in town, pulling the caps off every brand until I found it. I started keeping a bottle in my shop for his monthly visit. Yeah, it's crazy pants, but I'm head over heels for this man. Silas left his flannel behind one day, and I sniffed it like a psychopath for months until I couldn't smell him anymore.
I've wanted Silas Jansen since the moment I laid eyes on him. His strong back, chiseled jaw, and those muscles that look like they could lift my curvy ass up against a wall any day. But more than that, his gentle spirit pulls me in like a love magnet. I'mnot exactly what you'd call a wilting flower. I'm a big personality, so I need balance. And finally—finally!—this man has made his move, and now he's going back up the mountain without me?
Hell no.
"Hi."
My eyes widen in disbelief. "Hi? Hi? That's all you have to say to me?" I huff out a sharp breath, begging the angels for patience.
If I wasn't so in love with this man, I might have to get Whitney and Nora to help me bury his body. "You just bid on all three dates, claiming me in front of the entire town, and now all you can say to me ishi?" I glare at him, wishing he didn't look so damn handsome. It would be easier to stay mad.
"Hello."
Silas's deep voice lands right between my legs, but my mouth drops open. "Are you mocking me? Who the hell do you think you are?" I finally spit out, and he shakes his head quickly. I narrow my eyes at him when he still doesn't say a word. This is our dynamic. I babble on, sharing my entire life story, and he sits quietly, revealing diddly-squat about himself. I've told the entire town my intentions, and they all say the same thing:good luck.
Silas has been in my chair over a dozen times, and I know this attraction cannot all be one-sided, but I'd half convinced myself it was. And then he bids on me, getting my hopes up, only to dash them again?
No, sir.
My favorite auntie always said sometimes you need to call a stubborn mule's bluff. "Fine. Maybe I'll go back in there and put myself up for three more dates then."
I reach for the door handle, but the growl from behind me stops me in my tracks and my heart soars.
"The hell you will!"
