Page 7 of That Reilly Boy
“Actually it’s because I don’t like you.”
I know I shouldn’t, but I can’t help myself. “You used to.”
“Tomorrow, ten o’clock,” she says, and then the line goes dead.
I smile as I slide the phone into my pocket, which signals Penny it’s time to move. My smile fades, though, when I turn and see my mother standing on Aaron’s porch with her arms crossed and the door open behind her. “What was that about?”
“Penny has a ragged nail I need to get trimmed,” I say, thankful my dog isn’t exactly welcoming when it comes to anybody but me touching her feet. My mom’s not going to be able to confirm or deny my claim.
“Where are you taking her?”
“Pampered Paws Grooming, which is the only groomer in town. And you know that.”
As I expect, her jaw clenches and she presses her lips together before shaking her head. “Trying to buy that house is bad enough, but now this? There’s no reason to be giving a Gamble any of your money.”
“You wouldn’t say that if you’d ever tried to trim Penny’s nails.”
Her eyes narrow. “I might believe Princess Penelope over there needs her nails done if she didn’t have a standing appointment with her own team of groomers who visit her at home.”
“That’s a little dramatic, Mom. The team is the two sisters of my IT manager—one of whom is a teacher and the other a stay-at-home mom—who are trying to get a home dog grooming business off the ground around school hours. They get to use me as a reference in my neighborhood and I don’t have to rearrange my schedule for grooming appointments.”
“Are you denying she’s spoiled?”
I laugh. “Oh, she’s absolutely spoiled, as she should be. But not as ridiculously as you make it sound.”
And she’s worth it. Penny keeps me from disappearing into my work entirely. She came into my life at a time when I was at risk of becoming all focus and hard edges, and loving her softens those edges. Penny gives me a reason to close my laptop, walk in the park, and relax on the couch. She loves me with her whole heart and there’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.
“Why do you have to stir up trouble?” Colleen asks in a low voice when I reach the porch. “You barely come home over the years and now you’re here indefinitely—and don’t get me wrong, I love having you home—but you’re poking at the Gamble hive with a sharp stick and I can’t figure out why.”
“I haven’t even sharpened the stick yet.” Temper flares in her eyes and her hands go to her hips, making me regret the careless words. “Mom, I’ll explain it all to you someday soon, but for now trust that I have my reasons and I’m not going to stir up trouble.”
There’s almost no chance she believes me, but as she’s opening her mouth to give me a piece of her mind, Daisy and AJ explode through the open door.
“Uncle Hayden,” they yell in unison as Penny skirts them and rushes inside to find her favorite spot behind Hope’s knitting basket. She’s only been here twice, but she figured out on her first visit she’s almost invisible there.
The kids hit me with enough force so I have to shift my foot to brace myself and keep us all from tumbling down the three porch steps. Then I laugh and crouch so they can give me proper hugs. With the opportunity for a maternal lecture lost, my mom goes back inside.
Grabbing a kid under each arm and making monster noises to make them giggle, I straighten and follow her inside.
Chapter Five
Cara
How did I not recognize Hayden Reilly’s voice?
I was obsessed with him in high school. We even dated…kind of. To me, dating means driving to the movie theater in the city or two straws in one frappe at the diner. But two small-town teens whose families despised each other couldn’t do any of that.
Instead, we spent one glorious summer hiding in our favorite spot—sitting on a big, flat boulder on the riverbank. It felt so much more intimate than dating.
I also thought about him constantly after he broke my heart, of course, remembering things he’d said to me over and over in my mind. His voice was a record I played on repeat.
I still think about him when I see Aaron or Colleen from a distance. Or when a song from our high school days comes on the radio. He’s certainly been on my mind since Gin told me he’s in town and looking to buy our house.
So ten minutes ago, I would have sworn I’d recognize Hayden’s voice instantly.
I didn’t. The deep voice threaded with confidence and a hint of authority caught my attention on a purely chemical level, of course. It’s the kind of voice that would top a list of things I find attractive in a man, along with sexy forearms, a solid sense of humor, and letting me have the last cookie. But it wasn’t until he said his name that I realized it was Hayden.
I thought about hanging up on him. I’d even pulled the phone away from my face and hovered my thumb over the red X.
