Page 23 of How Dare You

Sadie leans into Bea. “You could name it Dandelion. Or Dandy.”

Bea’s eyes widen at the suggestion. “That would be precious.”

That is precisely why I didn’t play this game.

“Let’s go meet Dandy,” Sadie says, looping her arm through Bea’s and looking up at me expectantly.

“Allie’s about to announce the auction winners.”

“Let us know if we miss anything good!” Sadie calls as they walk away. In no time, Bea’s sitting on the ground playing with the dog she’s definitely taking home. I take a few pictures through the glass wall to send to her later.

“Looks like you finally finished that martini,” Rhett’s smooth southern voice says from behind me. Butterflies flutter in my stomach. This is a problem.

“Looks like,” I say with as much nonchalance as I can muster.

He steps into my eyeline. “Let me get you another?”

“Want me drunk, McCoy?”

“Sure, mama.” He smirks, knowing every time he calls me that, I’m reminded of his promise that I’d be calling him daddy. “If that’s what it takes for you to drop that ‘don’t fuck with me’ face.”

Sure, ‘don’t fuck with me’ is one way to put it. Most often, people tell me I have resting bitch face. Works for me. I’m not trying to look pleasant. I’m trying to exist, unbothered. The face serves that purpose. Usually.

When I don’t respond, he continues, “You could let me buy you dinner sometime.”

“You know I don’t date contractors.” I haven’t spoken to him about marring my planner with that same suggestion, but again, his words draw up the exact memory he’s trying to elicit. “We won’t be having dinner together.”

His chest moves with a silent laugh, “I know you don’t hear this often, but you’re wrong.”

I look up at him. “There is a reason I don’t hear it often, McCoy.”

“Oh, Dev,” he smiles, pleased with himself, “you’re making this way too fun for me.”

“Hello, beautiful dog lovers!” Allie’s voice calls out, interrupting his ego. She’s standing on a stool behind the bar that puts her a head above everyone else in the room. Her ear-to-ear smile doesn’t falter as she thanks everyone who made the event happen-donors, attendees, her boyfriend, even the dogs for using their puppy dog eyes to entice more donations.

She moves through the announcements of each item’s winner with admirable speed. Evidently, Rhett donated some time for a carpentry project, which is decent of him. Free coffee for a month goes to Bea. A golf package goes to Hector and Brian. I win the bid for services to the hair salon I frequent.

“Big, big thank you to my bombshell of a best friend for this next item,” Allie’s voice calls. I almost forgot about that. It’s been at least a month since we talked about it. “Two full weeks of quality face time with the incomparably beautiful and highly skilled Devon Blake, principal designer and owner of Friday West Interiors—” Almost sounds like she’s auctioning off more than design time, although any reasonable person will understand. “—goes to our friend, Rhett McCoy.”

His lips curve into a devious smile, and for once the butterflies stay away.

“What do you even have for me to design?” I arch a brow at him. “Don’t you live on Bradley’s sofa?” I point toward his friend, who’s behind the bar mixing drinks.

Rhett laughs. “I stay in his guest room occasionally if I’m there late, but I’ve got a place that needs a lot of design help.”

“What kind of place is it?” I don’t have enough time to squeeze in five extra hours of work, let alone eighty, but maybe it won’t take that long. Either way, I made a commitment to Allie, so I’ll make the time. Even if it has to be spent working for Rhett McCoy.

He shrugs his sculpted shoulders. “I’d like to surprise you.”

“Not interested.”

“Not up to you.” He’s enjoying this more than he should be.

My patience with this situation is quickly evaporating. “You have to tell me what I’m working on if you want anything done.”

“I get your time for two full weeks, face-to-face. You’ll find out when you get there.”

“It’s not two full—” I can’t decide which part of that statement is the most offensive. “Get where?”

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