Page 62 of Dashing for Love

“Me? Or Dawn?” I probably shouldn’t push him, but I can’t help it.

“You, Goldie. Just you. Tomorrow night.”

“Really?”

He meets my eyes. “Really.”

I don’t hesitate. “Yes.”

Chapter 24

Matty

IPULL UP in front of Agatha’s house and hop out of my truck, only to be stopped by the suspiciously happy woman herself.

“Matty! Hello!” She waves and sing-songs my name.

I throw a hand up in greeting, but don’t veer in the direction of her porch. “Hi, Agatha.”

Sensing my plan to slip by without a conversation, Agatha hustles down her porch steps and aims toward me.Damn. Guess we’re talking.“How are things with our girl?”

I raise an eyebrow. “Willa? She’s…good?” I’m not sure how to answer.

She swats my arm gently. “Oh, you’re funny. Not Willa, silly. Goldie. How are things withGoldie?”

I blink. How the hell—you know what? Doesn’t matter. “Things are…fine,” I answer. I’m not loving the way I keep hesitating to answer her questions about the Dash sisters, but this whole line of questioning has me way out of my depth.

Agatha’s eyes brighten. “That’s so good to hear! You know, when she was messaging you on that app, I thought it was themost amazing thing. The two of you—who would have thought I’d be responsible forboththose girls’ happiness?” She holds a hand over her heart and gazes into the distance. “Truly wonderful. A gift, really.”

I have no idea what she’s going on about, but I also know that I need to wrap this up. Immediately, if not sooner. “A gift,” I echo.

She beams, which tells me I’ve probably said something really stupid.

Wouldn’t be the first time.

I hitch a thumb toward the carriage house. “I’ve got to, you know, go.”

She clasps her hands to her chest. “Of course you do.” She leans forward and winks. “Be good, now.”

If I didn’t know any better, I’d swear she was talking about…well.

“But I’m sure you are,” she says as she turns.

My jaw drops open. Holy shit. She reallywastalking about sex.

Shaking my head, I close the short distance to Goldie’s door and rap on the window.

“Come in!” she calls. “Door’s unlocked!”

I open the door and cross the threshold. I’ve not been in the place since Willa lived here, and a lot is the same. As I move through the kitchen and into the living room, though, one thing is noticeably absent. “Where are the doilies?”

Goldie snorts from the bathroom. “Packed away like the menaces they are.” She emerges with a bright smile, and I’m shocked into silence again.

She’s gorgeous.

Absolutely, drop-dead, I-have-been-an-absolute-fool-all-these-years flawless.

Seeing my obvious glitch—which, come to think of it, seems to be a pattern of mine when faced with Goldie lately—she twirls. When her bright blue eyes meet mine again, she asks, “You like?”

---