She couldn’t pet him, but she spoke to him and praised him for not jumping on her before walking the rest of the way to Matt. She set the baking dish on the table and lifted the towel she’d draped over the top.
“I made you shepherd’s pie,” she said. “Welcome to the neighborhood.”
He leaned close enough to smell it. “Thank you. It looks delicious, and I love shepherd’s pie.”
“Of course you do. It’s meat and potatoes.” When he arched an eyebrow at her, she put up her hands. “That wasn’t meant to be a dig. I swear there’s something about you that makes me say stupid things.”
“It happens. It might be the eyelashes.” He batted them at her and she laughed.
“I’m not crazy. And I really don’t think you’re a stalker, which is why I brought you dinner.”
“I don’t stalk a lot of women, but you’re the first to ever reward me with food. I was going to nuke a pizza or make a couple of sandwiches, but this is better. Do you want to join me?”
She looked into those pretty eyes and said yes before she thought it all the way through. Really, it was the neighborly thing to do.
SEVEN
MATT LEFT HAILEY sitting at the patio set and went inside to rummage through the mess that was his half-unpacked kitchen. He grabbed a couple of paper plates, two forks, the salt and pepper, and the butter.
She’d changed her shirt since her dance in her living room. He’d noticed it right away, but wisely decided not to say anything. Her opinion of him wouldn’t be improved any by the thought of him watching her. Although it had only been for a minute, because she’d been in his line of vision.
He took everything outside and set it on the table. “I have milk, lemonade and water to drink.”
“Lemonade, please. And a spoon for serving if you have one.” It only took him a minute to pour two glasses of lemonade and grab a spoon, but she had the table set by the time he returned. “Thanks. I know it’s starting to get chilly, but I can’t really invite you inside to eat because my dining room table is a folding table and it’s currently folded up in the garage. Behind a pile of boxes.”
“This is fine. And Bear’s enjoying himself.”
“If I yell at him, don’t be startled. He’s learning the boundary line and he’s mostly got it, but he needs some correction now and then.”
She picked up the spoon and served them each a steaming helping of the shepherd’s pie and the sight of the hamburger, corn and mashed potatoes made him realize he was starving. He loaded it with butter, salt and pepper, then took a bite.
“This is amazing,” he said, and he meant it.
“Thank you. It’s all in the seasoning.”
“It’s delicious. My mom makes it, but it’s a little more bland.” He pointed his fork at her. “Don’t ever tell her I said that.”
“Now that we’re going to be neighbors, I wanted to reboot our relationship, so to speak. I’m actually a nice person. You just seem to catch me at bad moments, I guess.”
“I was hoping somebody would bring me a pie. Shepherd’s pie definitely counts.”
She shrugged. “I don’t bake a lot. When you live in this town, you bake in the shadow of Rose Davis and Fran Benoit and the rest of that generation.”
“So tell me about yourself.” He sipped the lemonade, watching her over the rim of the glass. “You’re from here?”
“Born and raised.”
“So you have family here?”
She shook her head, swallowing a mouthful of food. “Not anymore. When my younger sister, Tanya, went to UMass, she met my brother-in-law and moved to his hometown when they got married. It’s near Springfield, in the western part of the state. He started a business and invited my dad to join him and, since work was scarce here, my parents moved there, too. I’d just gotten the job at the library, so I stayed.”
“That’s a good hike.”
She shrugged. “It’s a six-hour drive. I don’t make it a lot, but at least twice a year, I try to go down. It’s hard because I have to close the library, but I give the town lots of notice and I try to only go when school’s in session so they still have a library available. What about you?”
“My family’s in and around Augusta. My dad does flooring and my mom’s always been at home. My older sister, Deb, is married and has two kids. Georgia’s eight and Tommy’s six. Her husband’s an orthodontist. Deb stays home with her kids, plus she watches my younger sister Brenna’s son, Caleb, who’s five.”
“And you’re close with them?”
“Very. They’re coming over for a barbecue Saturday after next. My mom can’t stand not being able to visualize where I live.”
“And the camp you were at? That’s yours or a family camp?”
“It’s been in my family since my great-grandfather bought it. The amount of land it has, with the cabin right on the river and everything, would cost a fortune now, so I’m glad he did. I probably spend the most time there, but my dad and I try to go together a few times a year. And the family all goes at least once. Sometimes twice.”
“That must...” He watched her struggle with a grin. “...smell bad. I’m sorry.”
“The key is that if everybody smells, you don’t notice.” The effort she put into not looking horrified was admirable, but he finally laughed and let her off the hook. “I’m kidding. There’s indoor plumbing, installed shortly after my dad took my mother up there for the first time, before they got married. A shower and everything.”
Hailey laid her fork on her empty plate and leaned back in her chair. “We went camping once. Only once. Tanya and I were really young, but we had our own tent next to my parents’. It was fun until it got dark. And then it rained and I woke up and our air mattress was floating in water because my dad pitched our little tent in a big dip in the ground. That was the end of camping.”
“It’s a little different when you have a cabin, although it does get crowded when the whole family’s there. Bear!” He pointed at the dog. “Yard!”
“He seems to listen well.”
“When he wants to.” He took a sip of lemonade and pushed his plate away. “He caught on to the boundaries pretty well. The trees and the bushes help with that. There’s none between our yards, though.”
“I don’t mind if he wanders into my yard. Although if he starts leaving me gifts, you’ll hear about it.”
He laughed. “I’ll pick up after him. And he’ll probably end up there whether I let him or not because he’s going to like you and want to be friends. But he won’t go in the road unless he’s on a leash and the people at the end of the street have a fence, so I know he can’t go far.”
“You think he’ll like me?”
“He’s a black Lab. He likes everybody.”
“Gee, you sure know how to make a woman feel special.” She smiled at him, then rolled her eyes.
Was he supposed to be making her feel special? Suddenly the casual, spur-of-the-moment dinner didn’t seem so casual. He’d taken her desire to apologize and start over as neighbors at face value. Sure, he liked the view when she bent over in the backyard and he liked the way she laughed—and the way she shivered when he touched her neck, which he tried not to think about too much—but they’d be stupid to think about anything more than that.
“I was kidding,” she said softly, and he realized that up-against-the-wall feeling might have shown on his face. “I wasn’t flirting with you, so don’t panic.”
“Oh, I know. I was just...I thought of a work thing I forgot, that’s all.” The lie rolled off his tongue as he stood. “Actually, thanks for the shepherd’s pie, which was the best I’ve ever had, but I need to make a few calls while I’m thinking about it.”
“No problem. I made enough so you’d have leftovers.” She stood up. “Do you want some help carrying stuff in?”
“Nope, I’ve got it. Thanks again. Bear, come on, boy.”
She looked back when she got halfway to her house and caught him watching her. He waved and she waved back, but she didn’t smile this time. It was for the best.
As sexy and funny as she was, he needed to stop focusing on the chemistry crackling between them and start focusing on getting his shit together. He had a house to unpack, a job to do and a town to make home. He didn’t have time for a woman who couldn’t decide if she liked him or not.
IT TOOK TWO trips with the cart for Hailey to empty the night drop box on Monday morning. And there were also a couple of dollar bills at the bottom, which meant some of the books were overdue and the patrons had tucked fine money into them like bookmarks. Sometimes she had no trouble matching the money with the overdue books, but other times she gave up and pinned the dollars to her board to remind her to ask the patrons later.
When she flipped the sign to open at ten, there wasn’t exactly a mad rush to get in, which she’d expected. Mondays were notoriously slow due to all of the residents of Whitford having to survive it being Monday, which meant finding herself busywork. Luckily there wasn’t very often a shortage of that. If all else failed, there were always grants to hunt up and apply for.