Page 27 of Never Pucking Ending

“Well, I promise not to be a diva,” I assure him with an easy smile, sipping my coffee. Do I need an espresso at two in the afternoon? Absolutely not. But am I going to drink it and probably get a regular frappe on my way home so I can start filling out paperwork and catching up on emails? Yes.

Dane sets his cup down and crosses his arms over his chest. “If memory serves, you were never one of the pains in my ass growing up. Pretty sure you were one of the only ones who didn’t call me Dumbo.”

Ahh. The ears. I wondered if he was going to bring that up. “Kids can be cruel. I used to be called gap teeth for years until my adult ones grew in. Didn’t even need braces.”

His eyes roam over my face thoughtfully. “It seems like you have a beautiful smile, but I always thought you were cute with the gap too.”

He’s flirting with me. Openly. Unapologetically. It’s kind of nice. “You’re quite the charmer, aren’t you? Is that how you get business?”

His lips quick up higher at the sides. “Most of my clients are rich men with money, so not really my type.”

Is he implying that I am? The thought makes heat prickle my cheeks like needles under the skin, and I hope it’s not noticeable. How long has it been since a man has flirted with me? I can be a bit oblivious at times, but I’m positive it’s been a while.

“Oh,” is my only reply before internally wincing. Oh? Is that the best I can do? I’m clearly out of practice.

Dane must think my awkwardness is endearing because it doesn’t bother him. “I don’t suppose your mother mentioned that I’m also single. You told me she showed you my work, but I don’t know what else she shared.”

If nothing else, Dane is blunt. And I can appreciate a man who gets straight to the point, even if I’m not used to it. “She didn’t tell me about your current relationship status, but it was implied.”

He hums thoughtfully. “So, if I were to ask you out to dinner, it wouldn’t be a surprise.”

I blink. When is the last time anybody asked me out? I try to think about it but can’t trace the amount of time it’s been. Have I been that closed off to the possibility?

I stand a little straighter. “Depends. Is this your way of asking me if I want to get dinner with you? I’m used to your other tactics.”

One of his brows arches. “Other tactics?”

I grin. “I believe you used to get my attention by dumping sand on me back in the day.”

I swear pink dots his cheekbones as if he remembers exactly what I’m talking about. Rubbing the back of his neck, he nods. “I was a little shit back then. What if I promise you there won’t be any sand?”

I can’t help but laugh. “I hope not or that would ruin dinner.”

He stands a little taller. “Is that a yes?”

I bite the inside of my cheek. There’s no reason to hesitate. Going out to dinner with Dane sounds fun. We could catch up. Reminisce about childhood and our meddling mothers. Bond about owning a business.

Just as I’m about to say yes, the door to the store opens and Jesse walks in holding a cup of coffee and a white paper bag. He stops halfway in when he sees Dane and I in the open kitchen area, his eyes narrowing a fraction to study us.

I turn to him. “Hey.”

He’s had away games this week, so we’ve barely seen each other. I always send him good luck texts before the games, then watch them at home as if I were there in the stands. Win or lose, I’d like to think I’m the first one to call him after to either congratulate him or tell him they’ll get them next time.

Jesse’s eyes bounce between Dane and I before landing back on me and closing the distance between us. “Hi. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt. I got back early and saw your note.”

I’d left him a Post-it on the fridge door letting him know where I’d be. I mentioned I had a meeting, but not who it was with. And I’m not sure I like the way he’s sizing up Dane without an ounce of remorse doing it openly.

Dane holds out his hand. “Hey, man. I’m Dane. I came to see the space and figure out if I could help Belle out with some contracting.”

I hate that I notice the way Jesse physically relaxes when he hears the reason Dane is here, only then taking his hand in what appears to be a firm handshake.

I was right. Dane is taller, but only by an inch or so at best. He’s less muscly too. Although, it’s not by that much either. I guess contracting means having to be strong enough to lug around heavy tools and wood. Jesse has bigger thighs than Dane, but Dan is broader in his upper body.

Clearing my throat to regain Jesse’s attention so he doesn’t stare Dane to death, I say, “Dane’s mom and my mom are friends. We’ve known each other since we were little. Before you and Frank came into the picture.”

Recognition lights up Dane’s face. “Oh. You must be Belle’s stepbrother.”

“Jesse,” my stepbrother confirms. “You said it was…Dave?”