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Tanner Building Supply: Delivery confirmed. Friday, 7 AM. Dawson Lodge.

I put the phone away but Lila notices. “What was that?”

“Nothing.”

“That looked suspicious.”

“Text.”

“From?”

“Girlfriend.”

She freezes. “You have a girlfriend?”

Her face is caught between a look that says she’s equal parts hurt and pissed.

“You jealous?”

“No.”

“You look jealous.”

“I’m concerned you’re committing bigamy.”

“Girlfriend’s less demanding.”

Her eyes narrow. “Does she leave mugs everywhere?”

“No.”

“Then go live with her.”

I smile. “Don’t have a girlfriend.”

She smacks my arm. “You’re such a dick.”

“You asked.”

“And you lied.”

“You got jealous.”

“I did not.”

“Sure.”

She turns back toward the stove. Her neck is flushed pink from our banter. I want to put my mouth there. I don’t. And that’s becoming a problem.

The building-supply truck arrives at seven Friday morning. Lila arrives at seven fifteen and I’m on a ladder replacing rotten trim when I hear her car door slam.

“Dane Miller!”

I close my eyes.

Tanner looks up from the lumber pile. “You’re in trouble.”

“Yep.”