Page 50 of More Than a Good Friend

“Hey, you.” Dag is using his flirting voice, which he has never ever directed at me.

I only just called him, so he shouldn’t even be here yet. “Were you following me?” I’m surprised, but his answer may switch that to anger super quick.

Hands in a defensive position, he shakes his head. “No, ma’am. I was headed back to the ranch from visiting with my mom, and you called. The speed limit is seventy-five. So it took no time at all to get here.”

I study his face, searching for any sign of deception. But there’s none. And this guy can’t lie convincingly to save his life. “Thanks for hurrying over. The date didn’t work out, so we parted ways.”

He saunters toward me, a determined look in his eyes.

I step back and bump into the stone pillar that’s attached to the gate. “What?”

“You aren’t dating Evan anymore?”

Wagging my head back and forth, I stare at him, flustered by the way he’s behaving.

Our bodies are nearly touching when he finally stops. With one hand on the stone, he leans in close. “I’ve been thinking.”

I hold my breath, waiting.

“You’re really pretty, especially in that dress. And since you are in love with me—”

“Was. I’m past that now.” I hang onto that one little lie. Even if it isn’t so little.

“Right. Anyway, I was thinking we should go out.” His lips touch mine, and the world stills.

But before I can throw my arms around him, he opens his mouth again.

“I’m no good at dating, but you’ll tell me when I’m not doing it right. We’re great on the dance floor. This just makes sense.”

Why did he have to strip all the passion and romance out of dating?

He might as well be asking me if I want to carpool.

I just ended a date because there wasn’t any sizzle. And even though I’ve spent years dreaming about going on a date with Dag—and maybe being caged in like this—he’s managed to make a chocolate-covered strawberry taste like kale.

Daring to meet his gaze, I shake my head.

His lips are so close to mine that I can feel it when he asks, “You don’t want to go out with me?”

Mustering every ounce of determination I have, I say, “We should stick with being friends.”

Muscles clenched, he backs up. “You don’t like me?”

“I didn’t say that, but my answer is still no.”

He drags his hands through his hair. “Mason said that if I wanted you to marry me that I should spend time with you. Then you’d want to be my girlfriend and—you know—marry me. Do we need to spend more time together? I enjoy it, so I’m game.”

I miss some of what he’s saying because I’m hung up on the part about Mason. “You’re taking dating advice from akid?”

Dag sighs. “If it’s good advice, who cares where it came from? Besides, he’s been in the middle of lots of ranch people falling in love. I think he’s learned stuff.”

Laughing, I slap a hand over my mouth.

But the wounded look on Dag’s face shuts me up quickly. “I didn’t think it was funny.”

“I’m sorry. But the visual image of Mason giving you advice on relationships tickles me.” I reach for him, feeling a tad guilty for laughing. “What else is bothering you?”

He shrugs and walks away a few paces before turning around. “I’ve asked out lots and lots of women. No one’s ever told me no before.” Avoiding my gaze, he walks to the passenger side of the truck and opens the door. “You really got over me fast.”

---