“I’ve got plans tonight.”
“Oh.” She nodded once, quick and neutral. “Then we can arrange a time tomorrow?—”
“Or,” he said, watching her closely, “you could come with me.”
Honey hesitated. Her heart betrayed her with a single thump. But her voice came out smooth and even. “I’ll bring the file.”
Ethan gave her a look that lingered. “I’m glad you don’t mind working late.”
Chapter 22
Honey
“I feel like you’re being secretive because we’re about to commit a felony,” Honey said, clutching her purse tighter in her lap as Ethan’s truck rumbled to life beneath her.
Ethan shot her a sideways glance, the corner of his mouth twitching. “It’s not a felony.”
“That’s not overwhelmingly reassuring,” she muttered.
It was Honey’s first time in Ethan’s truck, and honestly, it fit her image of him much more than the sports car he’d driven her in the other day.
It was old but sturdy, and full of life. A smiley face sticker was affixed to the dashboard. A stack of mail and school papers sat in the booster seat strapped in the back seat, next to a tiny plastic unicorn figurine she guessed belonged to Melly. The seatbelt cut across her chest uncomfortably, which was maybe a sign she shouldn’t have worn a dress.
But then, he had dressed up. Sort of.
Ethan was in a button-down shirt. It was worn and soft-looking, with the sleeves rolled to his elbows, showing off forearms that had no business looking that good. His jeanswere old but clean, which Honey had discovered was no easy feat when you lived with three children on a farm.
So she’d changed too. Now she sat in a pale blue wrap dress and a cardigan, feeling simultaneously overdressed and underprepared. The cardigan had slipped off one shoulder, and she didn’t know if fixing it would make her seem self-conscious or more relaxed.
She crossed her ankles.
Uncrossed them.
Then turned to face him again.
“We’re not doing something illegal, right?” she asked, pulling the hem of the dress down slightly. “Because as a representative of the bureau, I should remind you that I have a legal obligation to report?—”
“It’s not strictly illegal,” Ethan said, eyes still on the road.
“That sounds like intentionally slippery language.”
He huffed a laugh. “You’ll see.”
The truck bounced a little as they turned off the gravel road and onto the dark stretch of road connecting the orchard to the town. Moonlight streamed in across Ethan’s face, making Honey acutely aware of how attractive he was.
She tried to settle the butterflies in her stomach. They weren’t fear exactly. More like a heady mix of curiosity, nerves, and the undeniable awareness that she was alone in a truck with Ethan Hale. After dark, in a dress, and on a mystery outing that might involve breaking at least one minor law.
When you spend your life knowing and enforcing the rules with spreadsheets and precision, you get used to feeling in control. That had been Honey’s entire identity until she stepped onto the Hale family farm and control went out the window.
She was just working up the nerve to ask again when Ethan’s phone rang through the truck’s speakers. The screen read Auntie Nova.
“Shit,” Ethan muttered under his breath and jabbed the steering wheel button.
It was just past nine which, though Ethan plays pretty loose with most things, Honey knew was past the girls’ bedtime.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Ethan. Sorry to bother you on a Friday. I know you’re probably busy with the?—”
