Page 25 of Love Songs

“Hey, Conor,” he greeted. He was a big guy with a crocus tattoo running up the back of his neck and onto his bald head.Hence, the name. I could never remember what Crocus’s real name was—I’m not sure I ever knew. “Here for the usual?”

“It’s like you know me,” I joked.

It always amazed me to see the hulking ex-con handle dainty confections with such care. He’d been Haider’s first hire from an ex-offender program that helped reintegrate people back into society. Some guys only stayed a short while, some didn’t work out at all, but Crocus had settled into Caldwell Crossing seamlessly.

“Heard you had a date with that rock star who set the stage on fire,” Crocus said, because of course everyone in town—and probably half of New Hampshire—knew about my date. Or more to the point,whomy date was with.

“You know me,” I chuckled. “Always up for an adventure.”

Crocus chuckled, as though he was afraid to make too much noise, and shook his head. His eyes glinted with humor as he took my money and handed over a box of chocolate treasure.

“See you next week,” he said.

I did a two-finger salute to the brim of my imaginary cowboy hat as I stepped back outside. The sweet aroma of blooming flowers in the myriad baskets and planters that lined Main Street and hung from window boxes in the apartments above filled my senses. I’d always loved this time of year, when everything was fresh and vibrant and full of promise.

As I was about to turn the corner at Bellflower Street, heading back to the station, I saw a familiar man on the sidewalk heading toward me. I would have recognized him anywhere, even now, in his incognito mode, with his lush hair tucked up under a black baseball hat and mirrored sunglasses hiding his electric blue eyes. He wore tight-fitting jeans and a jean jacket over an equally tight-fitting black T-shirt with a design I couldn’t make out. My fingers twitched with the need to reach out and touch.

“Hey,” I said, keeping my hands to myself when he stopped in front of me. “I’m surprised to see you still here.”

“I decided to stick around for the week and explore the area,” Dallas said with a crooked smile. “This is a charming town.”

That my small town had charmed Dallas enough for him to stick around a little longer filled me with happiness. I had the sudden urge to bounce on my toes. But I stayed cool. Just.

“Well. If you’d like a tour guide,” I said, trying not to sound overly eager and no doubt failing. “I’d be happy to offer my services.”

Dallas grinned, and it took me a second to realize what I said. Heat crept up my neck, but I smiled back. Any service he wanted from me, he only had to say the word, and I would grant it wholeheartedly.

“You are a very good tour guide,” Dallas said, his voice low, and I wondered if he was remembering our kiss, too.

We stood there staring at each other for what felt like hours, while energy sparked in the air and the floral breeze ruffled through my hair. Something passed between us. I didn’t know what, and I wasn’t sure how on board I was with it. More kisses? I was there for that. More than kisses? Oh, hell yeah. Butmoremore—

A car horn honked, jolting me back to the here and now.

“Here.” The charged moment gone, I tucked the Harmony Chocolates box under my arm and pulled my phone out of my pants pocket. I handed it to him with a giddy feeling bubbling inside. “Let’s trade numbers and you can let me know when you want that tour.”

I glanced down the street as he entered his digits and saw Mrs. Jennings walking along the sidewalk on the other side. Her red hair glinted in the sun.

Please don’t see me, please don’t see me.

“Hello, Conor,” Mrs. Jennings called out, waving.

I waved back. Grateful she couldn’t tell that my smile was more of a grimace from across the street.

“Is that Dallas Blade with you?” she shouted as a car passed by.

Dallas looked up at his name, a crease in his brow as he waved back. Mrs. Jennings put her hand on her chest, like parents did when they saw their kids doing something adorable, then she looked both ways down the road.

Crap.Don’t cross the street, don’t cross the street.

Luckily, she continued on her way with another wave, but now the whole town would think Dallas and I were together. At least that’s how she would tell it. Then Mrs. Jennings and her silver-haired gang would have a summer wedding planned for us before the end of the week.

“I was heading over to Mabel’s Bistro for a ginger tea,” Dallas said as he handed my phone back after sending a text to himself, so he’d have my number, too. “Would you like to join me for a drink?”

“I’d love to, but I’m on shift until seven,” I said, motioning to the box I was holding. “I’m just picking up treats for the guys at the station.”

“Oh,” he said softly.

That one word sounded heavy. Was he disappointed?

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