Knowing his friends as he did, he figured on the latter.
Remembering what he’d heard right before getting stung, he turned back and said to Skye, “A dog is a good idea. When do you want to go to the shelter?I’lltake you.”
Put on the spot, she stood, too, then needlessly dusted off her backside and stalled.
Ford said, “I’m off at four tomorrow.”
“Shelter closes at six,” Knox offered.
She drew a deep breath, curved her mouth in a tight smile, and said, “That should give us enough time to see the dogs.”
Something dangerously close to relief loosened Ford’s chest. He nodded. “I’ll pick you up at four fifteen.” Then, keeping as much dignity intact as he could and keenly eyeing the grass for more bees, he limped back to his own house. Odd as it all seemed, progress had been made.
Progress to what though? That’s what he didn’t know.
* * *
It shouldn’t matter, yet Skye stared in the mirror, studying her reflection, seeing all the flaws, and taking extra time to try to disguise them. Concealer, contour shadow, the right application of blusher . . . Blowing out a breath, she knew it didn’t matter.
Ford shouldn’t matter.
Damn it, he was a neighbor, maybe a bit of a friend now, and he was her wingman. Period. Nothing more than that.
He’d come to the task grudgingly, so she wouldn’t do a single thing to make it more difficult for him.
Such as admire him. Like him.Wanthim.
She groaned. Wanting guys had never quite worked out for her. She wasn’t just twice burned. She was like . . . five times burned. It sucked.
Her self-esteem had taken a beating, but the desire remained. And why not? She was only twenty-five, healthy, strong and fit.
Sure, she could have a random hookup, but that wasn’t for her.
Clyde would have been so willing, but oh no, her fickle heart hadn’t been interested. That would have been too easy, and she knew by now that somehow, someway, everything was more complicated for her.
When the knock sounded on her door, she froze. He was early.
Fifteen blasted minutes early!
Quickly she fluffed her hair again, pulling forward several long tresses, dragged in a breath, and headed to the living room. Clyde’s persistence prompted her to peek out the window before opening the door.
Well, crap. Worse than Clyde. Worse than Ford jumping the gun.
Aggrieved, she jerked open the door and said, “What are you doing here?”
Laylee, her younger twin by minutes, pressed her way in with a giant smile and an exuberant hug. “Surprise, Skye. I’m taking you to dinner.”
“Dinner?”
“Yup. You’re free, and now I’m free, so—”
“Um, see, the thing is . . .”
“Ugh.” Laylee held Skye back so she’d get the full brunt of her frown. “Donottell me you’re back to seeing Clyde.”
“Nope. I ended that.” And she was doing her best to ensure he was out of her life for good.
“Thank God. He was all wrong for you.” Grabbing Skye’s arm and dragging her to the sofa before she could even close the door, Laylee asked, “How did he take it?” As if to offer sympathyand support, she gripped Skye’s hands. “I’m sure he was a complete and total jerk, wasn’t he? I only had to meet Clyde to know it. Strange that you didn’t realize it sooner.”
