Page 18 of Dashing for Love

“Damn thing ain’t kept proper time since the fifties!” Jerry exclaims.

“You’d know, you old geezer,” Ox shoots back.

“I’m gonna get Goldie on this—it’s a scoop,” Tom declares.

“None of this is your lane,Chief,” I remind him.

He raises a thick eyebrow. “You clearly haven’t been attending the town halls, or you’d know that these two”—he flicks a dismissive hand at the old men to my right— “have made it my lane.”

“Okay, let’s change topics,” Reid says, patting Ox on the shoulder. “Before Chief Hall comes up with a reason to arrest you two. I need a handyman. Who do you recommend?”

“Probably Jim down at the hardware shop,” Ox says.

“His daughter’s better than he is.” Heads swivel to me. “What? It’s true. Darcy is an actual carpenter. She knows her way around a house. Assuming that’s the kind of handyman you’re after.”

“Ooh, Darcy,” Ox muses, then grins. “She and my brother hate each other.”

“Which one?” Reid asks.

“Anthony.”

“Why?”

Ox shrugs. “Have you met my brother? Bigger than me, grumpy as hell, grunts more than he speaks?”

Reid chuckles. “Fair.”

“Didn’t they date?” I venture.

“Speaking of dating.” Tom waggles his eyebrows.

Barbara slides the patty melt and fries I didn’t have to order in front of me. I look up and smile athanksat Willa. She tips her head in response. Then I look back at Tom. “What are you babbling about now?”

“When are you gonna settle down?” Jerry asks. “Have some babies?”

“See?” Tom says proudly. “We don’t just ask the women.”

“No, you’re equal-opportunity inconsiderate asses,” I joke.

Reid quirks a grin. “Ignore them.”

“Easy for you to say—you’re locked in.”

His smile broadens and softens at the same time as he steals a glance at Willa. “Yeah.”

I chuckle and take a bite of my sandwich. “You’re so gone for her it’s not even funny.”

“Without a doubt,” Reid agrees. “And it’s the fucking best. Just you wait.” He levels a meaningful look at me, and I shove fries in my mouth so I don’t have to think about what that look could possibly mean.

My phone dings when I’m finishing lunch, and while I hate to do it, Iamon break, so I pull it out of my pocket to see if it’s Liv at the clinic.

It’s not. It’s an alert from the Blinding Love app, telling me I’ve got a photo to look at.

The way my heart rate speeds up should concern me. But I really like this girl. We chat so easily every day, and even though we’ve kept who we are pretty much hidden from each other, we’ve started to wade into deeper territory. And I have to hand it to the app—we really do have a lot in common.

The guys are all distracted talking to each other, so I open the app to see the photo. It’s a shiny copper penny, heads-up on a street.

DAWN

---