Andi
MY DOORBELL RANG an hour before Dalton was due to arrive and I glanced at Aspen with a grimace. “He’s early.”
She smiled. “Who cares? You look adorable.”
“You’re not funny.” I’d just gotten out of the shower and, although I was dressed, my hair was still wrapped in a towel.
“I’m hilarious.”
“Don’t quit your day job.”
“I was born for stand-up,” she continued.
The doorbell rang again.
“I’ll get it,” she offered.
“Thanks.” I started up the stairs, but before I crested the top, Aspen called me down again.
“It’s not Dalton,” she said. “It’s delivery.”
I giggled as I headed back downstairs, because for some reason that sounded like a reverse Diggiorno’s ad.
“Ms. Rivers?” A young man in a very proper polo shirt and khakis stood on my porch.
“Yes.”
He handed me the keys to my car and shoved a clipboard toward me. “I have your car. Please sign this.”
I peeked around him to see my car, shiny and clean with what looked like more than just two new tires on it.
“You have four new tires, and we replaced your donut with a full-size spare...it’s in the trunk. We also gave it a tune up and detail.”
I internally grimaced...that would hit my bank balance in a really bad way. “Okay, thank you...how much do I owe you?”
He frowned, suddenly appearing nervous. “Nothing ma’am. Mr. Moore took care of it.”
“Oh, well, ah...thank you.”
He relaxed. “No problem. If you need anything, call the number on your receipt. My name’s Roger.”
“Thanks, Roger,” I said, and watched him walk toward an awaiting car. I closed the door and faced Aspen who stood watching from the great room. “Dalton fixed my car.”
“I heard.”
I scanned the sheet Roger had left with me. “Holy cow, Aspen. They practically rebuilt my engine with the amount of work they did to it.” I bit my lip. “I don’t know that it’s even worth the amount of labor and parts they put into it.”
“Someone obviously still has a crush.”
“I do not!” I countered.
Aspen laughed. “I was talking about Dalton, but look at you rushing to assumptions...I believe the lady doth protest too much.”
“Well, he doesn’t either.”
“You said that back in high school too. I always thought you were wrong then, and I’m pretty sure you’re wrong now.” She shrugged. “But I’ll let you figure that out. Hopefully, it’ll take you less time than it did with Jeremy.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“No judgment, sweetie, put your sword away,” Aspen said, raising her hands in surrender. “It just took you longer to get away from Jeremy than a few of us would have liked to see, that’s all.”
I sighed. Jeremy had fooled me… again. I’d married him six months after I turned eighteen (no red flags there, obviously), and five months and three weeks after I received the first grant from my trust. What I hadn’t banked on was a husband who couldn’t keep it in his pants and felt the need to belittle me daily. I’d stayed married to him for three horrifying years and didn’t get up the courage to leave him until his fist connected with my face. I had just enough self-esteem left to refuse to allow that to ever happen again, but unfortunately, there was no money left. But with Aspen’s help, I walked out the door and never looked back.
That had been what seemed like forever ago and I was just now getting back on my feet. Jeremy was not only rich (thanks to taking everything from me), he was mean, and he put me through a two-year divorce that sucked me dry...financially and emotionally.
“I know. I should have seen that,” I admitted. “You warned me enough times.”
“You were dealing with a lot of crap, honey, I get it. But, I hope you see this for what it is. Dalton’s a good guy. He was back in high school and he obviously still is, so try not to push him too far away, okay? You kind of get a second chance here.”
“How is it you two seem to know each other after only meeting a couple of times?” I cried.
“It wasn’t just a couple of times. It was every day at lunch,” she reminded me. She’d told me her version of my first interaction with Dalton (which I disputed and continue to dispute, because her memory’s that of a dementia patient), when she and I were walking into the cafeteria as he was walking out. He had first lunch while Aspen and I had second, and it seemed as though I saw him leave every day. Even if I was running late, I ran into him as he was leaving, and he’d smile and say hi, but I could never fully find my voice, so I’d just nod or pretend I didn’t see him.
“For two seconds while he was walking out and we were walking in,” I countered.
“Well,” she smiled, “We’re obviously both smart and extremely intuitive people.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s not interested in me, Aspen.”
“Ohmigod, Andrea!” She threw her hands up in the air. “He’s been interested in you since the second you walked into the cafeteria Freshman year.”
Aspen often spoke for me, and then when we were alone she’d berate me for a few seconds before dropping her head back with a dramatic groan (a bit like she was doing now), and we’d continue on with our lives.
“Okay, let’s drop it,” I said.
“I’ll drop it like it’s hot, babe, as soon as you admit he’s into you.”
I rolled my eyes. “He’s not into me.”
“Andrew Jackson send you down the Rivers!” she snapped.
I snorted as I choked on a laugh. “What the heck was that?”
“I like it.”
“It’s stupid.”
“It’s genius,” she quipped.
“You’re a dork.”
Ever since we’d met, Aspen had made up names for me mostly because she thought Andrea was kind of lame (totally in solidarity to me, because I hated it as well), so she called me anything but. And they just got weirder (and dumber) the older we got. However, Andrew was used whenever she was irritated with me, so I was apparently stuck with that for the evening.
“He likes you, honey,” Aspen continued. “Just lean in a little, okay?”
I bit my lip and gave her a little nod. “I’ll lean in.”
“Halle-freakin-lujah,” she sang, then smiled. “Go get gussied up...make that man weak in the knees.”
“Okay, honey.” I headed back upstairs with a lightness in my heart I hadn’t had for a very long time.
* * *
Dalton
I parked in front of Andi’s home and frowned. I didn’t like how exposed her porch was. Before knocking on the door, I did a perimeter search and made a few mental notes to speak with my buddy about. Alamo Slater was the Sgt. At Arms for the Dogs of Fire Motorcycle Club, and he was good at risk-management, not to mention a kick-ass mechanic. Which is how I met him. He stepped in to run my BMW shop a few years ago, and now did it when I was between managers or someone was on vacation. I’d tried to hire him, but Alamo owned his own place, so he wasn’t interested.
Once I texted Alamo, I rang the doorbell, and couldn’t contain my mild surprise when Aspen opened the door. I’d only met her once or twice outside of the high school cafeteria, but she hadn’t changed much. Her hair was longer, and she had a few extra laugh lines, but she was still just as pretty as ever.
“Dalton Moore, as I live and breathe,” she exclaimed, her hand flat on her chest for affect. “Why, sir, you just get better with age.”
I chuckled, leaning down to kiss her cheek. “And you are just as gorgeous as ever, Aspen.”
“Charmer.” She stepped aside. “Come in. Andi’s almost ready.”
I walked inside and followed Aspen into the great room. The house was bigger than it appeared to be from the outside, and Aspen had obviously upgraded recently. She came from money, so I wasn’t surprised. “Nice place.”
“Thanks. Can I get you a beer?”
“No, thanks. I’m good.”
Aspen looked past me, so I turned and felt my heartbeat speed up.
“Hi,” Andi said.
“Hey. You look beautiful.”
She wore a black knee-length skirt with knee-high boots that brought very inappropriate thoughts to my mind. I took a few deep breaths and thought about football while I took in the rest of her. Silver lace peeked out from a creamy sweater that slid off her right shoulder, and all I wanted to do was run my lips over her skin. Damn, she was stunning.
“Thanks.” Her cheeks flushed as she smiled. “You look nice as well.”
“Ready?” I asked, in an effort to distract myself from wanting to drag her up the stairs.
“Yes,” she breathed out. “I’m starving.”
“Yeah?”
“Yep. I plan to try everything on the menu.”
I chuckled. “Excellent.”
She raised an eyebrow. “I hope you have room on your credit card.”
“Absolutely.”
“Have fun,” Aspen called as Andi led the way out the front door.
“Lock up,” I ordered.
“Always,” Aspen said, and did as I demanded.
I opened the car door for Andi and waited until she was settled before closing it and making my way to the driver’s side. I started toward the restaurant and noticed she was unusually quiet. “You okay?”
“Yep.”
“Was everything okay with your car?”
“About that,” she started, and I hid a smile. “I’m confused as to why you replaced all my tires, including the two that were fine, and then tuned it up when I didn’t need a tune up.”
“You needed a tune up.”
“Not for another few months.”
“Andi, if the sticker on your window was correct, you hadn’t had an oil change in over two years.”
“Which meant I could push it for another few months,” she countered.
“And those two “fine” tires were bald, sugar,” I said.
“They were?”
“Yeah. And I don’t like the idea of you not having a full-size spare. Donuts are dangerous.”
“They’re not dangerous, Dalt. You just have to go slow, which I have no problem doing.”
I loved the way she called me ‘Dalt,’ it meant she was relaxing… finally. “I’ll feel more comfortable if you’re drivin’ a car with a regular sized tire. Humor me.”
She rolled her eyes, but I didn’t miss the smile in them. “I didn’t realize you had much, if any, say in what I drive.”
“I’d like to.”
“Let’s get through dinner and go from there.”
I chuckled. “Well, it’s not a ‘no,’ so… progress.”
“You’re ridiculous.”
“I’m wearin’ you down.”
She didn’t respond as I pulled up to the restaurant and parked, but I was bolstered by her silence. Sliding out of the car, I walked to her side, glad to see she waited for me to open the door for her. There was something special about a woman willing to be treated like a lady.
I held my hand out and she took it, standing with a smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” I kept hold of her hand and we made our way to the door.