Page 57 of More Than a Good Friend

“Sure. See you soon. And, oh, should I put a shirt on before walking into the living room?”

I end the call.

For being clueless, he does pick up on little things like my throbbing vein and my reaction to seeing him without a shirt. And that makes him harder to figure out.

But Dag is back to being just my friend, which is good. Mostly. He hasn’t brought up going out, so it was just a blip because when he sees something he really wants, he goes after it.

I’m so thankful our friendship has survived the craziness of the last month.

When I get to his cabin, I knock as I push open the front door. “I’m here.”

He walks down the hall, carrying a shirt. “Celebratory dinner. Have you ever been to that steak place in Bandera? The cowboy capital has great steaks. My treat.”

“You don’t have to buy my dinner.”

He pulls on the shirt. “I know.” After setting his hat on his head, he drapes an arm around my shoulders. “I have my own personal driver. This is going to be great.”

“I guess I owe you.”

“Nah, but I’m happy you’ll be able to leave dates whenever you want. Not that I don’t like scooping in to rescue you.”

“I think you mean swooping. But I don’t need to be swooped or scooped.” I hurry to the car.

He’s quiet while we both get buckled in, then turns to face me. “Yeah, you have something against being carried. But I could pick you up easy.”

“Let’s focus on where we’re going.”

He chuckles. “You mean relationship-wise?”

“That isn’t what I mean at all, and you know it.” I swat his arm. “Don’t be a distraction.”

“I’ll do my best.”

Maybe back to normal isn’t the best description of how things are.

CHAPTER20

DAG

Because Goldie is a good and responsible driver, she’s focused on the road, which gives me a chance to steal glances at her. I’ve known her a long time, but the other night when she walked across the room to answer that call, it was like I was seeing her for the first time.

Not only is she beautiful, but she’s also wicked smart and kindhearted. How have I spent so much time with her and not realized any of this?

She’s pretty much the opposite—except the pretty part—of the other women I’ve dated. Well, they might not be dumb, but we didn’t really have any conversations that provided an opportunity to gauge intelligence. We did other stuff.

I bet all that other stuff is why Goldie turned me down. Some have labeled me a player, and they wouldn’t be wrong. I shunned long-term relationships, but I’m beginning to think that was not smart.

Or maybe I just needed to grow up a little—or a lot—to see that maybe what I’d been avoiding is what will make me happy. And I want Goldie to be happy. I’d like it even more if I made her happy.

And to do that, I need to be the kind of guy she’d want to go out with.

Maybe I should share that bit of advice with Mason so he can add it to his arsenal.

Rubbing my jaw and thinking of what I need to change—newsflash, it’s a lot—I glance over again.

Shock etches on Goldie’s face, and the car screeches to a stop.

“What?” I reach for my seat belt, which is locked and has me pinned. “Why did you stop like that?”

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