Page 10 of High Density

With barely a minute to spare, I walk up to the door of the modest, single-story house set back from the road. I’ve been here before when Doc Evans was still living here, but I never realized how isolated this property is. Janey has a few neighbors, but they’re not exactly within shouting distance since the house and clinic sit on a couple of acres. It’s not like she can easily hop off her porch and knock on a neighbor’s door for help. I should ask her about security.

But when I hear her footsteps approach, and the door opens to reveal Janey, every noble thought dissipates, only to be replaced with mostly indecent ones. It’s the hair; dark and shiny, hanging loose in generous waves skimming her shoulders. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her without braids or a ponytail, and I immediately want to sink my hands in those thick tresses.

The jean jacket and cowboy boots are familiar, but the blue floral, flowy sundress underneath is also very different. Unexpected and very feminine, yet still Janey. She looks gorgeous. I’d like to think she dressed up for me, but I haven’t seen that much of her outside of work, so I wouldn’t really know if this is more the norm than the exception. Either way, I’m glad I thought to put on my dark jeans, good boots, and a navy dress shirt.

“Ready?” I ask when I’m finally able to peel my tongue off the roof of my mouth.

“Sure, let me grab my keys.”

I notice her purse is a small, crossbody bag the size of a wallet, which can’t house more than her phone, maybe a tubeof lip balm, and now her house keys. She’s clearly not a fussy woman, which suits me just fine.

As I open the passenger side door of my truck for her, she turns to face me.

“So where are we going?”

Fuck.

Maybe I should’ve planned this better.

Chapter Four

Janey

I was seriously temptedto pretend I got called out before he got here.

Especially after that call this afternoon, adding even more to my already substantial workload.

But then I caught myself.

It’s not like invitations to dinner are a weekly occurrence. On the rare occasion I do eat out, it’s by myself. I’ve been too busy for much of a social life since moving here last year. Hell, I haven’t even started on any of the projects I had hoped to tackle in the house. The place was built in 1976, and I want to bet nothing much has changed since then. Not even the olive-colored appliances.

All that to say, I don’t get out much, so why not enjoy when the opportunity presents itself? Even if it’s just over dinner because I have to eat sometime.

So, instead of bailing, I had a quick shower, blow-dried my hair, left it loose, and put on one of the two dresses I own. I evenput on some mascara, even though it had almost dried up in the tube I found in the back of the bathroom vanity drawer. I made an effort.

Not that I should have bothered, since he barely even seems to notice.

Of course,heis handsome as hell. He always is, but the dark navy of his jeans and shirt enhance his good looks even more. Still, he appears a bit distracted, and even though he said our destination is a surprise, I’m starting to wonder if he even knows.

“Is everything okay?” I ask cautiously as he drives us into town.

“Fine. Why?”

I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know, you seem a little…preoccupied?”

His grin is a little shy as he shakes his head.

“Nah. I’m just trying to figure out where the hell to take you.”

I knew it.

“You don’thaveto take me anywhere,” flies out of my mouth.

To be honest, I am pretty annoyed. Why the hell would he insist I have dinner with him, when it’s apparently a chore?

“But I want to,” he responds immediately, looking rather startled. “Otherwise, I wouldn’t have asked.”

Fair point, I guess. However, I’m starting to think staying home with a grilled cheese sandwich and a bowl of leftover squash soup in front of the TV might’ve been the better choice. Clearly, I’m out of practice socializing and at this point appear to be embarrassing myself.

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