Page 30 of More Than a Good Friend

“Did you hear me?” He holds up a glass. “Want anything?”

Is it wrong that I want him to say it again? “Hear what? And I’m good.”

He fills a glass with water, then walks up to me. “I said you looked pretty. That dress was great.”

“Thanks.” I skirt past him and drop onto the couch. “You didn’t go out?”

“Nope. Went shopping. Otherwise, I would’ve gone to poker night. But not going gave the other guys a chance to win.” That smirk is back. He sits down beside me. “It’s not that late. Let’s watch a movie.”

“Sure.” Because that’s what friends do.

* * *

Whenever my momisn’t making nice with other party guests, she’s glaring at me. I guess bringing Dag violated some unspoken rule. But he’s been nothing but a sweetheart. Currently, he’s pushing my niece on the swing, and she giggles every time she goes up high.

It’s sweet and completely out of character for him. People at the ranch wouldn’t believe me if I told them.

Ricky bumps my shoulder. “Dag’s a good guy. I like him.”

My younger brother has always been kind to Dag. I’ve never mentioned my feelings, but it’s probably obvious.

“Good. Will you tell Mom that you invited him so that she’ll stop glaring at me? She very clearly doesn’t want him here.”

“It’s my house and my kid. I can invite whoever I want.” He crosses his arms, acting indignant.

“Tell her that.”

He pulls a face. “I’d rather not.”

Missy runs up, her pink dress swishing back and forth. “Daddy, can we do the piñata now?”

“Sure thing, pumpkin. And when you need me to break it for you, just say so.” He covers half his mouth and whispers. “They’re hard to crack open. It requires a bit of muscle.”

Missy shakes her head. “You don’t have to. Dag can do it. He has muscles.” Pigtails bouncing, she hurries away.

I bite back a laugh. “Still like him?”

“Not as much.” He’s grinning, so I know he’s joking.

Dag walks over and hands me a cup of punch. “Candy next, huh?”

“Yep. And once the kids have all that candy, the adults distract them with cake.”

He leans in closer. “When will she open presents?”

“That’s last.”

“I hope she likes what I brought.” His face lights up as kids take turns whacking the princess piñata. “This is fun. Thanks for letting me come.”

“I’m glad you did.” I don’t feel as conflicted about being so aware of Dag’s muscles. My niece noticed them, and she’s six.

The children’s energy wanes as the hits only knock off small flecks of paper.

Missy points at Dag. “Your turn. You have to hit it reallyreallyhard.”

He hands me his cup. “They need me.”

My goal of distancing myself isn’t working as planned. But I wouldn’t trade today for anything. Even if I’m being glared at again.

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