Page 44 of Growing Into Love

“Is he a funny bloke?” Jaz asks.

“Oh yeah,” I say. “He’s calling me princess.” I roll my eyes. “I’ve told him it’s a silly nickname, but he thinks it’s romantic.”

“Sounds rather patronizing to me,” Jaz sniffs.

I raise an eyebrow. “Oh really,” I say. “David is being patronizing. Takes one to know one, Jaz.”

“I’m not patronizing,” he insists.

“Saying things likeI’m only looking out for you,oryou should tell Declan about himis absolutely patronizing.”

“You aren’t going to let that go, are you,” Jaz grumbles.

“No, I’m not,” I say. “I’m done being treated like a child.” I sweep my arm out at the opulence around us. “I made it to Windy Acres. I’m so close to reaching my dream. David believes in me.”

Who cares if it was really Zara saying that. I bet if I did have a boyfriend named David, he would believe in me too.

“How long have you even been together?” Jaz asks. He leans forward and his eyes burn into mine. “I’ve known you most of my life, so don’t act like David knows you better than me.”

My heart shivers. “It’s been six months,” I lie.

“Six months?” Jaz says. “How the hell have you kept this from Declan for six months?”

I slap my hand on the table. “There you go again, acting like it’s my duty to inform Declan about every aspect of my personal life. I can keep some things forme, Jaz.”

Jaz flushes and starts to backtrack. “No, I know, I—how the hell did you keep it from Mrs. Pritz though?”

I stiffen. I’d forgotten the old matchmaker. Mrs. Pritz knows everything about everyone in Hart’s Crossing and there is no way she wouldn’t know if I were dating someone. She’s been trying to set me up with Tom or Nigel for ages. I shudder at the thought.

“How do you know she doesn’t know?” I insist.

“Because she tried to set me up on a date with you after I delivered the puppies,” Jaz says, tossing the information on the table like he’s playing a trump card.

“Maybe I’m craftier than you give me credit for,” I snap.

“Who says I don’t think you’re crafty?”

“You did!” I cry. “Just now, you said—”

But I don’t get to finish because the waiter arrives with our food.

“Chicken?” he says, putting the plate in front of me. The scent of it banishes all other thoughts from my mind. I set the argument with Jaz aside temporarily so I can shovel the food into my face as fast as possible.

I can’t believe he’s acting all high-and-mighty again. It’s like he doesn’t even see himself doing it.

We’re halfway through our meal when his phone buzzes. He glances at it and then his face twists into an expression I’ve come to know so well over the years—and not in a good way. I put my fork down, my stomach uncomfortably tight. Jaz stares at the screen, unblinking.

“Jaz,” I say. “Who’s that.”

“No one,” he says quickly. Then he bites his lips and straightens his shoulders. “Actually, if you must know, it was Theresa.”

My stomach plummets to floor. I feel queasy.

“Jaz, no. Please tell me you didn’t let her back into your life again.”

His eyes flash. “Now who’s being patronizing?”

“I’m not patronizing,” I say. “I care about you. She can’t keep you like bait on a line. It’s not fair. It’s not right. You deserve better.”

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