“That’s him, isn’t it?” Marybelle pursed her lips as she stared through the windshield.
Layla leaned over the steering wheel to get a better look at it.
It was so Brant.
The advertisement for Light the Night was an eye-catching one, that was for sure.
It was a photo of him from the knees up. He wore his trademark denim shirt with the business logo on the pocket. His shirt was undone to the point of being one button shy of a Mr. November pose. Brant had his hands on his hips, a string of lights around his neck, and a “hey, girl” smile that would give Ryan Gosling a run for his money. Layla swallowed noisily.
“Yeah, that’s him.” The back of her neck tingled.
“What was he doing at your shop?”
“I worked with him last month on that job up in Hendricks.”
“The big fancy inn on the lake?” Marybelle’s eyes widened when she looked her way.
“Yes. I forgot something there, so he brought it to the shop for me.” She rubbed her neck, still staring at supersized Brant.
“He likes you. That’s all there is to it.” She went back to studying Brant’s image.
Layla gaped at her. “Hardly.”
“Are you kidding me? He could have come and stuck it on your porch. But no, he has to make himself at home on the bench, kicking up his feet, waiting until you finished your date with Kyle.”
“No, Marybelle. That was the second time he came.”
“So he’s come to Copper Creektwice?” She chuckled low. “He can’t stand you, all right.”
Layla sighed. “Well, I certainly don’t like him.”
Marybelle clamped her lips together even tighter. “I can’t see why. The man is a two-legged ice cream sundae.”
“Marybelle!”
“What? I’m not too old to appreciate a handsome man.”
“Still.”
Marybelle finally took her eyes off the billboard. “So, you and Kyle have seen each other more than once.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Have you been spying on us?”
The older woman waved her off. “I have better things to do than peek through curtains all night long. No, Kyle tells me everything.”
“He does?” It was a little unsettling that Marybelle’s forty-year-old nephew rehashed his dates with her.
Marybelle ignored the question. “He seems to like you.” She scrunched her shoulders upward and gave her an impish grin. Then she remembered her nephew had some competition and she hooked her thumb toward the billboard. “And this other one does too.”
There was no use denying it. Marybelle had already made up her mind. But Brant’s face drew her attention again. She certainly couldn’t ignore Brant and his swoonworthy aura. If there was such a thing as a two-legged ice cream sundae, he’d be it.
“He’s very nice,” Layla admitted.
“Kyle, you mean?”
She pushed the urge to daydream aside. “Yes, Kyle.Of courseKyle.” She scrunched her face to reassure Marybelle that they weren’t talking about this other guy.
“So I did well?”
