Page 56 of Just Like Home

Cole shoved his hands in the pockets of his jeans and nodded. “All good. We’ll get out of your hair.”

Charlotte turned to the other woman and smiled warmly. “Thank you so much for letting me look around. This is such a beautiful space.”

Rachel cast a look of longing over the theatre. “It really is, isn’t it? I’m so glad that it’s getting at least a little bit of use. And I can’t wait to see you dance.”

Charlotte smiled, a shyness coming over her. Cole studied her in the lull of the conversation. Connor had said she was one of the best dancers in the country, but her humility seemed genuine.

There he went again—romanticizing his curiosity. He didn’t like the way his own mind was betraying him.

“We should go,” he said.

Charlotte looked at him, brow furrowed as if he’d said something wrong.

“Right,” Rachel said quickly. “And I should go check on my dad.”

A wave of loneliness washed over him, thinking about Silas all alone out here at Wonderland, and he wondered if he’d end up like Silas one day.

Would he regret it if he did?

Charlotte thanked Rachel again, and then followed Cole out the door and back to his truck in the parking lot. She stopped in front of the headlight and looked at him.

“You fixed it.”

He looked away. His buddy at the autobody shop had come through a lot quicker than Cole had expected. “Yep.”

“I didn’t notice before,” she said. He could feel her eyes on him. It was unnerving. “So, you have a bill for me?”

He pulled her door open and motioned for her to get in the truck, but she didn’t move. “It’s not a big deal.”

“I crashed into your truck,” she said.

“Twice.”

Her expression turned to amusement. “Twice.”

“Did you want to get in or . . . ?”

She seemed to be searching for a reply, but she must’ve come up empty because she passed by him and got into the truck. He closed the door and walked around the back, trying to calm nerves that had sprung up without his permission.

Women leave.He’d keep repeating it to himself until he stopped this childish infatuation with a woman who was way out of his league.

He slid into the driver’s seat, aware that it had been a long time since he’d had a woman in his truck—and now, in a matter of days, Charlotte had been in it twice. Would she expect conversation on the drive to Haven House?

He preferred the sounds of the road to the sound of his own voice. And it wasn’t like the two of them had anything in common. What was a high school football coach supposed to talk about with a ballerina?

And why did he care? He wore silence well. It was his comfort zone.

“I can find out how much that headlight cost.” It sounded like a dare.

He tossed her a sideways glance but didn’t respond. When he looked back to the road, he had to hide a smile.

Cole didn’t understand women, but there was something charming about this one.

“Where is Haven House?” she asked, staring out the window.

“Outside of town in the other direction,” he said, thinking of the big farmhouse that had come to feel like a second home to him over the years. “No lake view, but it’s still peaceful.”

“Peaceful,” she repeated. “That’s a good way to think of it.”

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