Page 11 of Bad Boy Crush

“If you’re sure?”

“I offered, didn’t I? See you tomorrow.” He’d nodded and started for his truck, chain saw in hand.

“Let me know what I owe you for the work!” she’d called out.

He’d stopped, turned, and regarded her like she’d asked if he’d like to borrow her bra. “No.”

“No?”

“Yeah. No. I don’t want your money."

“Technically, some of it is Liam’s.”

“Definitely don’t want that asshole’s money.” He’d grinned, and the tension in her chest loosened. “Let’s call us even. I’ve been meaning to make up for lost time. This is a good way to do it.”

Then he’d left.

Against the rim of her coffee cup, Lou smiled. What she hadn’t realized when she’d unfriended him was how much she’d missed having him on her side. She’d been so angry with Liam, she’d lumped Ant in with him, when they were nothing alike. She had the most uncomfortable feeling that she’d lost time she’d never be able to get back.

Liam had seemed the perfect candidate for a husband at first—successful, wealthy, attentive. Over the years, his work as a forensic accountant had taken up more and more of his time, or so he’d claimed.

There was no saving what had spoiled between her and Liam, but she could crawl out of the rubble with Ant. That would require her to stop admiring how hot he was shirtless, but she could do that if pressed.

Possibly.

She chewed on her lip as she considered the sorts of thoughts she’d entertained mere hours ago. They weren’t exactly “friendly” thoughts.

“I’ll just stop, then,” she said as she rinsed her empty coffee cup. The goal was to firm up their friendship. He brought a sense of peace with him wherever he was, and she missed that. She’d once teased him about being a fitter version of Buddha reincarnated.

Yes, her life had seen too much drama to continue having any more of it. She had a wonderful house, with amazing friends in Elliott, Lisa, May, and now Ant. Plus, she loved her job. How many people could say that?

Speaking of, she should probably prepare for said job lest she find herself in the unemployment line. She plopped down at the dining room table and opened her laptop.

In a twist she’d never seen coming, Lou had been employed by the town to write and report for their tourism website. She’d landed her new gig shortly after moving to the Cove and meeting Lisa Labreck, who seemed to know literally everyone. Lisa worked for the mayor doing a bit of everything. She was a self-proclaimed “matchmaker.” If you needed to know where to buy the perfect date-night dress, the best local trail to hike, or find a job, she could tell you.

Lisa had been standing behind Lou at Abundance Market when she’d started up a conversation about the travel magazine in Lou’s hand. Lou had mentioned she used to have a travel vlog, and Lisa had asked the name of it. That evening, Lisa had sent Lou an email via the contact form on the travel website and told her about the position available for the city’s tourism department. It’s work from home and you’re a great writer. You’d be an asset!

Lou had stopped updating her own website after she and Liam had split. With her life crumbling to bits around her, she couldn’t find the motivation to write about their travels. There were plenty of stories and photos the world had never seen, but most of them involved her ex-husband. A gig reporting the news in the Cove, including spotlighting local eateries, festivals, and events, had sounded perfect.

When she wasn’t writing articles and updating tourists about how to fill their calendars, she busied herself with a side project no one knew about. It’d started out as a journal. Just a place to type in her feelings without censorship. In that password-protected document, she could write the travel stories she hadn’t been able to share publicly. Like the time Liam had argued he wanted to sell the lake house while they were supposed to be enjoying the romantic city of Paris. Or the trip to India when their credit cards wouldn’t work. Liam hadn’t been calm in the slightest, yelling at the hotel staff while Lou had spent hours on the phone with American Express. The trip that should have been memorable for the good stuff stood out in her mind as a display of her ex’s rudeness and impatience.

Over the last several months, her journal had evolved from private bitch sesh to a memoir of sorts. Her own Eat, Pray, Love. Unlike the Elizabeth Gilbert novel, and movie of the same name, Lou had no plans to publish her work. The opposite, actually. She’d vowed not to show it to a living soul. The writing was cathartic, but for her eyes only.

After making the final preparations for the interview, she was ahead of schedule. She decided to write an entry about yesterday. Making up with Ant had been significant. Not to mention those odd tingles she’d felt when he’d stood on her beach wearing naught but his briefs. Or…should she leave that part out?

She placed her fingers on the keyboard and began to type. Censoring herself when she was writing for herself made no sense. If she could tell the truth anywhere, it was on this hallowed computer processor. No one outside of her and her MacBook needed to know she’d had a rogue dart of attraction to Anthony Renaldo.

No one.

* * *

Ant arrived five minutes earlier than he’d intended to pick up Lou for her appointment. Driving from her place to Donny and Sofie’s mansion would take longer than usual given it was a Saturday. Summer was primetime for tourists.

He rolled his shoulder, his muscles sore from the work he’d done at her house—and after. When he’d arrived home, he’d stacked the wood from his truck bed into a pile in his backyard to dry out. His mind had spun a mile a minute, and not only because he’d been thinking about what he could craft out of the pieces. He had also thought about Lou, and what being friends with her again would mean. He’d gone to bed late, unable to sleep for hours as his mind turned over the possibilities—on both fronts.

At first, a life without her had made him feel as if someone had scooped out his insides and replaced them with thorns and thumbtacks. Gradually, those pointed tips had dulled as he’d grown accustomed to her distance. Ironically, he hadn’t missed Liam, who Ant had promptly stopped contacting after the affair. Fine by him. Liam had made his bed and had put another woman in it. That was his shit to work out.

Lou was a different story. Ant had known she was hurting; a good bit of that hurt had been inadvertently caused by him. He’d attempted contact so that she wouldn’t have to navigate that hurt alone. Then it had become clear she wasn’t interested in what he had to say, so he’d let that go too.

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