Hartley: Feeding Pigasso.
A picture of the piglet smiling up at the camera pops up on my screen. It makes me laugh.
Me: I knew you’d be friends.
Hartley: I figured we may as well become friendly since you’d forget to try to find a rescue.
Me: Oops.
Hartley:
Me: In my defense, I have had a lot going on over the past few days. I’m getting married, you know.
Hartley: I heard about that.
Me: Did you?
Hartley: Sure did. From every damn person I saw this evening. The people who I didn’t see? I heard it via text.
My laughter grows louder as I wonder how many people that includes.
Hartley: I was thinking that it might quiet down the locals a bit if I took my fiancée on a date before our wedding. They’ve never really seen us together, and it might take some wind out of their speculation.
I take a seat at the little table Markie keeps on the back deck as my body begins to tingle. I’m sure it’s from the tequila. But tequila doesn’t usually make me smile like this.
Me: That makes sense. It might be good for your fiancée, too. It’d be a practice run, if you will.
Hartley: There’s gonna be a band in the park tomorrow evening around six. They have live music there every Tuesday unless it rains. Wanna go?
Me: Sounds fun.
Hartley: I’ll pick you up at 5:45.
Me: I’ll see you then.
Hartley: See you then, Mira.
I stare at his message until the screen locks.
It’s wild how safe and dangerous he feels at the same time. I don’t know if my pulse is warning me away from this, or if it wants to gallop toward him.
Probably both.
“Keep your eyes on the prize,” I say, heading inside the house. “This is to satisfy an inheritance. Nothing more. Keep your damn heart out of it.”
The door swings shut behind me, echoing through the night.
CHAPTER
FIFTEEN
Mira
“Don’t you dare think about opening that door,” Hartley says, grinning at me from the driver’s seat of his truck.
I pull my hand away from the handle. “I apologize for the audacity.”
“As you should.”
