Page 42 of The Good Guy on My Porch

“I’m ready,” Dilly said. I was sitting on the couch, Buddy next to me, when she walked into the living room wearing a white, lacy sun dress. Her hair was in a French braid and her eyelids sparkled with glittery make-up. I resisted the urge to ask her to go back upstairs and change because I didn’t think my heart could handle sitting next to her all evening when she looked so beautiful and sexy and perfect.

Somehow, I stood. “That was fast.”

She shrugged. “I don’t take long to get ready.” She kissed Buddy on the top of his head and we left.

On the porch, she linked her arm through mine. “Should we walk?”

“I don’t think there’s time,” I said. “I can drive.”

She smiled. “Great.” She lifted her left foot and twisted her ankle from side to side in her wedge sandals. “These are super cute, but hell on my feet for walking any farther than one end of the house to the other.”

I wanted to kiss her so badly, but I pushed the thought down. Together, we walked to my car and I opened the door for her, chanting to myself, this is not a date, this is not a date, this is not a date. I shut the door and got in behind the wheel.

“How has your week been?” I asked as I pulled out onto the street.

“Long,” she said. “Exhausting. But I’m working on a new project at the library and I’m really excited about it.”

She told me about her project connecting high school students with elderly residents. Her excitement was palpable and filled the car with a happy energy.

I parked in front of the Mexican restaurant and started to get out when her phone rang. She paled when she glanced at the screen. “I should get this,” she said.

“I’ll get us a table inside.”

She nodded, already lifting the phone to her ear. “I’m so sorry I forgot to call.”

I shut the door on her and walked toward the restaurant wondering if it was her grandmother again or if it was her boyfriend. I wanted to go back and wrap my arms around her and tell her that anyone who put that panicked look on her face shouldn’t be someone she allowed in her life, but I wasn’t the person who could do that for her. I was just the neighbor. Some guy who’d wormed his way into her life.

I was more than halfway through our basket of chips and beginning to think I was going to have to order something for both of us when Dilly plopped down in the booth across from me. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “Work emergency. Everything’s totally fine now.”

I didn’t know Dilly well enough to be able to tell when she was lying, but I wasn’t buying her story. Especially since I’d heard her apologize for not calling. “I didn’t realize the library had emergencies.”

Her cheeks pinked and she bit her lip before her expression closed off and her shoulders stiffened. “We have programs at the library all the time. People depend on us to be prepared and have the right materials. One of my colleagues couldn’t find something vital for a program.”

“Right.” I’d meant to sound agreeable, but the word came out harsher than I’d intended.

“It’s not as important as a salt spa program, I’m sure, but it matters to us at the library.”

Shit. She was getting pissed and she had every right to be. I didn’t know what the hell was wrong with me. “People do get fired up when their spa class is running late,” I said, giving her an easy smile. I needed to let it go. I didn’t know what was going on with her and I had no right to judge. “I had to cancel yoga class once and barely avoided a riot.”

She gave me a small smile, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I can’t say I’ve ever had a riot over a library program.”

“Probably because they have you to keep things in line and make sure everything is running smoothly.”

She looked down at her menu. “What’s good? I haven’t eaten here in ages.”

“I’m an enchilada man myself.”

She didn’t seem to hear me, her eyes scanning the menu, her lips pinched tight. She stayed that way until the waiter stopped by our table and took our orders. She asked for the tacos and handed over her menu reluctantly.

After the waiter left, she stared at her hands for several long moments before she looked up at me. “I didn’t say congratulations before,” she said. “You’re going to be an uncle again.”

I smiled with relief. “Yes. I’m looking forward to it. I think I may have to start my own summer camp here for all my nieces and nephews.”

Finally, her smile reached her eyes. “You should. You’d be so good at that! You could take them hiking and swimming at the waterfall.”

I loved that idea more than I could say. “They’ll have to get a little bit older and I’ll have to make enough money to hire someone else to run the spa for a couple weeks, but it would be awesome.”

“You must be their favorite uncle.”

---