My brows knit in confusion. “What do you mean?”
He runs a hand through his dark hair, a sheepish smile tugging on his lips, revealing those adorable dimples.
But they have nothing on Hayden’s.
“There’s this girl. Well, girl isn’t exactly the word. She’s…” He huffs a laugh. “She’s older.”
“How much older?” I ask, unable to stop myself.
“Old enough that she used to babysit me.”
“Wow.”
“I wasn’t in diapers or anything,” he adds quickly, stealing a glance at Jemmy. “But she grew up next door. I had the biggest crush on her when I was little. Thought it was just an innocent childhood infatuation. But she came home for the holidays after learning her husband’s been cheating on her. I guess seeing her again has made me realize it wasn’t just an innocent infatuation.”
“And you thought going out with me would help you forget about her,” I say, all too familiar with his thought process.
“Terrible strategy.”
“It is,” I agree with a sigh. “I’ve learned the heart wants what it wants and doesn’t care about reason or circumstance.”
“You’re right about that.” He stares into the distance for a beat before returning his attention to me, extending his hand. “Friends?”
I push out a sigh and place my hand in his. “Definitely.”
“Good.” He leans in and presses a chaste kiss to my cheek.
“Kiss, kiss,” Jemmy says excitedly. “Kiss, kiss.”
We break apart, laughing.
“Sorry, bud,” Joshua says to him. “Didn’t mean to steal your woman.”
“These Lawrence men can be extremely possessive,” I joke, then immediately wish I could take back my words.
“Is that right?” Joshua arches a brow.
“I, uh. I didn’t… That came out wrong.”
“It’s okay. Your secret’s safe with me.” He winks, then leans closer. “Although I’m not sure how much of a secret it is, considering it looked like Hayden was ready to murder me just for talking to you last weekend.” He steps back, flashing me a smile. “See ya around.”
Then he disappears down the aisle, leaving me speechless with an eggplant still in my hand.
I don’t even need eggplant.
But I take it as a sign and put it in my cart anyway.
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
ROWAN
Steam filtersout of a pan on the stove, the aroma of cumin and chili powder surrounding me as Taylor Swift belts about revenge and grudges from the speaker.
I tried to convince Presley to let me put on something more on-theme for enchilada night, something with Spanish guitar or at least a little salsa flair, but she crossed her arms and signed,Reputation.
A girl after my own heart.
She stands beside me on the step stool, her dark hair pulled back, humming as she spoons the chicken, cheese, and bean mixture onto a tortilla. It’s off-key and barely audible, but it’s there.
