Page 86 of Huckleberry Hill
“You didn’t cut me out,” he said, squeezing my hand. “Life took you in a different direction. What were you supposed to do? Call me every night? Promise me a future? It wasn’t realistic.”
He sighed and let go of my hand.
“Even if I don’t go back to New York, you and I?—”
“Oh, I get it.” He smiled slightly. “Heard you loud and clear.”
“You’re better off anyway,” I said with a winsome smile. “I’m a mess.”
“Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Put yourself down like that?” He frowned. “Your ex must be a real piece of shit, because any man would be lucky to be with you. Mess and all.”
“You’re a good friend, Wade. One of the best.”
He sighed. “Yeah, that’s always been my problem. Friend-zoned for life.”
“Have you tried dating apps?”
“I’d rather stick my head in a vise,” he drawled.
“Have you tried a mail-order bride?” I teased.
“It might come to that. There are no datable women in this town. They’ve all paired off or moved away. I’ve all but taken a vow of celibacy. Actually, the celibacy has been thrust upon me.”
“That’s no good. Tell you what. We’ll go to a bar one night and I’ll be your wingman. Nothing makes a woman want a man more than when she thinks he’s already paired up.”
“Name the time and the place. I’m in.”
“Knock on the door,” I muttered to myself. I raised my hand and then stopped. “Hadley, come on. This is ridiculous. He’s seen you naked. You can have dinner with him.”
Anxiety shot up my throat and I lowered my hand. I hastily took the steps down off the guest cabin porch and headed back in the direction of the main house.
“No, come on. You can do this. There’s no reason to be nervous.”
The sun was setting and the temperature was dropping. And I’d made the mistake of wearing a cute sundress with a denim jacket and cowboy boots.
I’d shaved my legs—past the thigh.
And now I was psyching myself out.
I started to pace toward the cabin.
I was muttering to myself like a crazy person while carrying a bag with wine and a dessert from Sweet Teeth.
The door to the cabin opened. Declan was barefoot, his hair was damp, and his shoulders looked miles wide in his black and blue flannel button down.
“You want to come in or should I give you a few more minutes to gather your courage?” he asked with a smile as he leaned against the doorframe.
I groaned.
“You’ve been out here five minutes,” he said. “You could’ve been well into your first glass of wine already.”
“Yeah . . .”
“Come inside, Hadley. I promise I won’t bite. Unless you ask me to.”
