Page 48 of Dream with Me

“Please. That man gets on my last nerve. If he wasn’t so damn good at his job—and if you ever meet him, Shannon, don’t tell him I said that—I’d have gotten somebody new by now. I swear if I say it’s up, he says it’s down. If I say it’s black, he says it’s white. I think he does it to irritate me.”

“I’m confused. When Lincoln and I had our house built, he worked with the contractor, and I was involved somewhat, but we didn’t have those kinds of problems. And I can bereallytype-A. I don’t understand why it’s an issue. You’re the client. If you say white, then you get white. He can make recommendations, but?—”

“Oh, it’s not that kind of stuff. He actually has pretty good taste. That’s another thing not to tell him I said if you ever meet him. It’s other stuff, though. Like when we’re talking about what’s happening in politics or whether cats are better than dogs.”

I’m grinning now even though I’m trying to hold it in, and I’m biting the inside of my cheek to keep myself from saying anything. I want to see how this plays out between Shyley and her.

Shyley stares at Tillie for a solid minute.

Then her eyes widen with delight, and her lips turn up into a knowing smirk. “You don’t hate him. Youlikehim.”

Tillie stops mid bite and sneers at Shyley.

“What? No, I don’t. I promise I really, really dislike him. Well, except his arms... okay, and his ass. But otherwise, I almost hate him.”

“Nope. You don’t hate him at all. First of all, your face does something weird when you’re talking about him. You get this twitchy eye thing. Plus, if you hate him so much, how are you getting into conversations about politics and cats? Why are you even around each other enough to have that kind of conversation?”

I can’t keep my mouth shut. “Because she hangs out there when he’s working.”

Tillie whips her head toward me and shoots me a death glare. Her mouth drops open, and by the look in her eyes, I swear she’s trying to curse me. “Narc...”

“Really?” Shyley asks, now even more intrigued.

Tillie tilts her head to me and gives me a devious grin. “We should talk about Shannon’s love life instead. Ask her about Will...”

“Oh, no... Isn’t he that creepy guy at the office who got a little touchy?” Shyley looks at me for an explanation.

“He’s my supervisor. Yes, he’s the one that got a little too close for comfort. But I’ve been managing to stay out of situations where I’m alone with him. It seems to be working, and he seems to have lost interest, if that’s what it even was in the beginning. Maybe I misread his signals. It’s been a while since I’ve been with anyone I wasn’t married to.”

“Is that all? What’s that look on your face for?” Shyley eyes me suspiciously.

I hate that I’ve never been able to keep things from my sister. Not that I’ve wanted to keep a lot of things from her in our lifetime, but the fact that she can read me so well means I can’t keepanythingfrom her.

“What look?” I feign innocence.

“Oh, I see what you’re talking about,” Tillie says. She rests her elbow table and her chin in her hand, looking at my face with far too much interest for my liking. “It’s that same look you had the day of the fire.”

I roll my eyes at her, hoping that she’ll think she missed the target, and they’ll take their attention off of me.

No such luck.

“You’re thinking of your hot husband, aren’t you?”

I ignore them and take another sip of my wine, dragging it out to buy me some time to come up with a response that will distract them.

“Of course not.” Even I can hear the lie in my words. The truth is, Troy is never far from my thoughts lately.

Shyley’s eyes widen. “Shannon?”

Heat rushes into my cheeks, and my heart pounds in my chest. I glance back and forth between them, and they’re like two lionesses ready to pounce on a sweet, frightened gazelle. The gazelle being me.

An annoyed huff rushes past my lips. “Fine. Yes, I’ve been thinking about Troy.”

Shyley’s eye narrow at me in suspicion. “What do you mean thinking about him? Why?”

I shrug and look back and forth between them, my nerves frazzled. “I just am. We’ve had some time to talk. To remember why we lo—. Why we liked each other in the first place. It’s good for everyone involved if we get along well.”

“Is that all?” Tillie questions. Her expression has changed from teasing when she first brought it up to concern. I look down at the table. “Shannon, are you okay?”

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