Page 43 of Dashing for Love

I did, but by the end of the day, the paltry peanut butter and jelly sandwich has long gone. Even worse, I’ve heard exactly nothing from Dawn, so it’s definitely a dinner at Dash In Diner kind of night. They’ve started staying open longer now that Willa is in charge, and of course, business is booming. I tuck Killer into the sling around my chest, fully aware that I look ridiculous, but I’m covered in pet hair anyway. What’s a little three-pound dog on top of it?

I make my way to the packed diner and slide onto the last open stool at the counter. Willa smiles at me through the window, and a little later, she comes out to give me a hug. Naturally, she sees right through my paltry excuse for a smile, and levels the same look on me that’s worked for decades.

“What’s wrong?” She doesn’t take her eyes off mine as she gives Killer a scratch behind his big ears.

Resisting the urge to squirm, I say, “It’s nothing for you to worry about.”

When I don’t say anything else, she hollers at their other line cook, Jake. “I’m taking five. You got it handled back there?”

When he answers in the affirmative, she jerks her head to the door. “Come on. Outside.”

Wordlessly, I follow her out of the diner and sit on one of the wooden benches framing the entrance. “Willa?—”

“No,” she cuts me off. “Don’t ‘Willa’ me. You’ve been weird for a couple of weeks now. You’re hiding something from me. What’s going on?”

I scrub my face and sigh. “It’s complicated.”

“And when has that ever stopped you from talking to me? Need I remind you about the underground kitten ring you ran in elementary school?”

I quirk a smile. “Okay, but they were so cute, and there were just so many of them.”

She leans into me. “Talk to me, bestie.”

But I still hesitate. “I’m not ready to talk about it,” I admit. She stiffens, and I put my arm around her to pull her to me. “Don’t be mad. I’ll tell you, I promise. But I’m still trying to figure things out, and I want to do it on my own.”

She looks at me. “Since when have you done things on your own? You’re a pack animal, Matty.”

She’s not wrong. and yet, for some wild reason, I feel like this is one time where I’d do better talking to Goldie instead of Willa. I’m not calling her, but the instinct hits me like a ton of bricks.

Unless Dawn is Goldie.

I still can’t quite shake the notion, because it would make so much sense if it were her. The ease we have in talking to each other, for one. But it’s not her—it can’t be. The woman I was with at the masquerade ball wasn’t Goldie. Those lush lips, the way they parted for me…no way. Not to mention what we didafterwards. Jesus. If I had video sex with my best friend’slittle sister?

No.

Willa stands abruptly. “Fine. Don’t talk. But if whatever this is blows up in your face, I don’t want to hear it.” She yanks open the door.

“Wait.” I gesture her back to the bench, unable to let her leave with her feelings hurt. “It’s about a girl.”

“Iknewit!” She’s far too satisfied with the answer as she sits back down.

“Yeah, well, don’t get too high and mighty with me. I think it’s over.”

She frowns. “Why?”

“It’s…complicated.”

She snorts. “You said that already. And of course it is.”

I pet Killer. “What do you mean?”

“Because you’re one of the most sensitive people I know. You are a walking, talking golden retriever. Aren’t you the one who reads all the romance novels?”

“Yeah. So?”

She leans into me. “So, don’t you think you can figure this out? What would the dude in one of your novels do?”

I can’t help but laugh. “I don’t know, Willa. I’m pretty sure I’m more like the women in the novels than the men.”

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