“See? Fucking stunning,” Annaleise says with a bright smile.
I laugh.
We share a quick hug before heading downstairs. When sheoffered to come over, I thought she’d bring up Trina Guthrie or the search for Stacy Morrow or the arson investigation. There have been no new stories this week, so maybe it’s old news.
“Give em hell, darlin’,” Annaleise says with a wink, then slips through the door.
I continue to the kitchen and gulp down a glass of water, then slip on my strappy sandals. As I’m touching up my lipstick in the hall mirror, the soft rumble of Linden’s truck descending my driveway sends a rush of jitters through my belly. I snatch my clutch and slip outside.
Linden steps down and shuts his door, giving me a split second to take in his crisp white shirt, chocolate-brown vest and dark trousers, and black cowboy boots that gleam in the sunshine. His tanned face looks freshly shaven but his thick dark hair has been left a little wild. Like he’s been running his fingers through it.
Down, ovaries.
When he sees me in the doorway, his lips part and his eyes soften into a look I don’t know how to read. Surprise? But there’s vulnerability there, too. Could my alphahole neighbor be…nervous?
It’s gone in a flash, replaced by a sincere smile. “You look beautiful.”
“You look pretty good yourself.”
He climbs the steps, giving me a hit of his woodsy aftershave.
I think he’s going to offer me his hand, but instead, he slides a tiny envelope from his pocket. “I was going to wait, but I think you need this now.”
Hold up, he brought me some kind of gift?“What on earth is this for?”
There’s that soft smile again, and a one-shoulder shrug. “Open it and find out.”
I flip open the thick flap and slide a small silver objectonto my palm. It’s a bracelet joined with a slender silver band etched with the wordBRAVE, an arrow shot through it.
“Linden, wow.” I force down a swallow because my breath has turned shaky. “I don’t know what to say.”
“You could say you love it.” He gives me a cocky grin.
“I absolutely love it.” I risk making eye contact, and the space between us crackles with a shock of sudden heat. “Will you help me put it on?”
His thick, calloused fingers fumble a little with the tiny clasp, and the brush of his skin on mine sends a tiny thrill down the backs of my thighs. While I drink in the way he tends to this task with such focus, I try not to hyperventilate.
The bracelet is featherlight and feminine, yet the message carries its own kind of weight. “Where’d you find it?”
“Farmer’s market. Greta and I stopped in last week.” He shoves his hands in his pockets. “I think she’s crushing on this farm kid.”
I have the urge to grab both sides of his face and kiss him so hard right now. Instead, I shut my front door and we descend the steps to the driveway. “Did you meet him?”
He arches an eyebrow. “What makes you assume it’s a him?”
My mind scatters. “Right. My bad.”
His eyes glint with mischief. “It’s a guy, but that look on your face was epic.”
I give his shoulder a little shove, but it’s like trying to push over a brick wall. “You know I wouldn’t judge or anything, right? Greta is one awesome kid.”
He beams. “Agreed.”
“Did Greta tell you about cheer tryouts?” I ask.
“She did.” He gives me a calculating glance. “And that you’re going to be helping. That’s kind of you.”
I swallow the buzz working up my throat. Just because helpingGreta brings up feelings doesn’t mean I can’t handle them. “Happy to help.”
