Page 63 of The Wrong Heart

“Right. Um… and this is Shane, my brother’s friend.”

Shane sidles up beside me, tossing a beer bottle into the recycling bin, then brazenly drapes his arm over my shoulders—some kind of unprecedented, territorial move. “I’m your friend, too,” he notes, the flirtation heavy.

My body stiffens, my gaze instantly floating to Parker. I watch the way his eyes lift, zeroing in on the brawny arm wrapped around me, his jaw ticking. He forces his attention back to his tools as I unravel myself from Shane’s embrace with an uncomfortable chuckle. “That you are. Are you about finished with the pipes?”

“Yeah, just give me a few minutes to gather my stuff and I’ll get out of your hair.”

West saunters over to me, ruffling that hair with his meaty palm. “I’m taking off, too. Stay safe with the weather warnings.”

“Ugh.” I shove him away, irritated, fixing my newly disheveled locks. “Thanks. Be careful driving.”

When my brother ventures out of the kitchen and the front door claps shut, Shane begins to gather his own supplies while Parker fetches the ladder and sets it up below the ceiling hole. I catch the two men eyeing each other every now and then, so I resort to what I always do when I need a distraction: bake. As I’m pulling out baking sheets and mixing bowls, Shane makes his way back over to me with his hands in his pockets.

I swallow as I blink up at him. “All set?”

“Yep. Should we go over payment?”

“Oh, right, of course.” Swiping my palms along the skirt of my dress, I reach for my purse behind me on the back counter. “Is a personal check okay?”

Shane scratches his head, approaching me with a sluggish gait, a coy smile tipping his lips. He curls his fingers around my wrist and begins to tug me away from the kitchen.

I can’t help but glance at Parker’s perch from atop the ladder, noting how his eyes keep cutting over to us, dark and stormy, his stance rigid. Biting into my lip, I lace my fingers together in front of me and trail Shane until we’re just out of Parker’s line of sight. “You don’t take checks?”

“I do,” Shane laughs, still messing with his hair, then massaging the nape of his neck as his blue-gray eyes rake over me. “But I was thinking something a little more unconventional. Let me take you out.”

“Take me out?”

“Yeah, like a date. Dinner.”

“Dinner,” I parrot.

He chuckles again, bobbing his head. “Look, I know you’ve had a really hard year, so I’m not trying to rush you into anything. But if you’re ready… well, I’m interested.”

My cheeks heat at his proposal, and I resist the urge to repeat his words in an attempt to delay my floundering response. I’ve never been asked out before. Charlie and I justhappened, all fireworks and fairytales, and there was never any need for this… formality.

And while I’m flattered, certainly, I don’t feel any sort of attraction to Shane.

I don’t think—I guess I haven’t given him much of a chance yet.

Scuffing my bare toes against the carpeting, I smile, “I’m not really sure what to say. I think I’d feel more comfortable paying you for your time.”

“You’d rather pay me than go out with me?”

“Well, I’d feel better if we kept this a business arrangement, you know? I’m not saying we can’t go out sometime… in the future.”

Shane narrows his eyes, registering my words as he runs his tongue along his upper teeth. “Are you seeing someone?”

“No, I just—”

A familiar presence closes in on me from behind, radiating warmth and command, inciting goosebumps to dance across my skin and light me up like a heatwave.

Parker stalls his feet right beside me, propping a power drill against his shoulder, and my insides buzz with anticipation as I wait for him to say something.

He doesn’t.

He just stands there, looming over us with some kind of silent intensity, some kind of control I don’t understand, glaring daggers at Shane.

Shane raises an eyebrow at him. “Can I help you?”

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