“What?” I asked.
He grinned. “List me as the beneficiary of your life insurance policy.”
I chuckled. “You really are ridiculous.”
“Whatever,” Dean said. “Be careful, though. She said she had hormones from her pregnancy.”
“Yeah, sure she does.” I wiped my hands and headed over to Amber’s table, not sure of what I was going to say.
Maybe Dean was right.
Not about the pregnancy, but about telling her my name is Ryan Scott. Maybe then I would find out what the heck was going on with her because it was baffling beyond belief. I bolstered my courage and made my way to her table.
“Hey there,” I said, placing my hands on the back of the chair across from her and rocking it back and forth. “How are you doing?”
Amber was typing a message on her phone, then set it down on the table and smiled. “I’m okay. How are you doing?”
Her smile wasn’t genuine. I knew that much.
She glanced around the coffeehouse. “This place always seems to be so busy. It’s nice to see you get these brief breaks.”
“You won’t ever hear me complain.” I pointed to the chair. “May I join you?”
“Of course.” She took a sip of juice as her phone dinged.
She leaned forward to glance at the message.
Her phone was turned slightly sideways, so I could see the message.
I felt guilty looking at it, but it was a reflex.
The text message was from Stella, saying she had a surprise for Amber.
What kind of surprise?
Amber glanced over at me.
Uh-oh. She caught me.
I shot my eyes up toward the ceiling. “Is that a spider?”
“Scotty . . .” she said slowly.
“Yeah . . . I really think it is.”
“Did you read the text on my phone?” Amber asked.
Crap, crap, crap.
Dean’s words hit me like a tortilla slap to the face.
Women notice everything.
I wouldn’t lie to her, but I could delay the truth. “Maybe it’s a moth.” I glanced up at the ceiling again, squinting my eyes.
“Scotty . . .”
I blew out an embarrassed breath. “Sorry. Yes—I saw your text. Stella has a surprise for you. I wasn’t being nosy, really. Your phone lit up and dinged and caught my attention! It was completely involuntary. It’s like one of those catchy jingles on the radio, it sucks you in without you even noticing, and soon you’re singing along without even knowing it. Then the person in the car next to you is watching you, thinking you’re crazy.”