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winced. “A visit home?”
    “ Yeah.”
    She wasn't against going home, but being in
the same room as her mother. First, the subtle questions would
come. The kind of questions that would uncover simple facts that
would lead to whether or not she was seeing someone. Then, there
would be the inquiries about when she would get married as though
that was Brooke's only purpose in life. Her mother was stuck in an
era where that kind of existence wasn't only okay, but the only
acceptable existence.
    There was a time when she would have happily
lived that Donna Reed dream, would have been hopeful right along
with her mother. Those days were gone. Revisiting them just put a
sour taste in her mouth.
    Brooke shrugged. “I see you were trying to
distract me. How's Tate?”
    Peyton blushed. “Fine.”
    “ Don't you mean 'none of my
business?'”
    “ Shut up.” Peyton laughed
but her face reddened even more. “I'm going to go troll for empties
and see if I can sell some more beer, but think about what I said.
Dane isn't a bad guy.”
    Even when they bickered at each other he
didn't get nasty. That said a lot about him. And if she was willing
to be reasonable, she could admit it said good things about him.
Things that made her like him more. “Maybe.”
    Her friend left her alone with her thoughts.
The other, much more private reason why she volunteered to help at
The Grog was to escape that. Her mind seemed to get stuck on how
her skin prickled with sexual awareness whenever they lost track of
why they hated each other, and Dane looked at Brooke as though he
wanted to eat her up.
    It started with the first car that morning.
She thought nothing about bending over in front of him until she'd
turned around and caught his expression of pure sexual hunger in
his gaze. She hadn't been able to breathe, and then she couldn't
help but wonder how he would kiss her, how he'd touch her.
    She'd spent way too much time since that
morning imagining what naughty words he'd murmur in her ear if they
ever lost their goddamn minds. She shivered. No. No. They were
partners. Soon they'd go back to their respective corners. She just
had to survive the next few months with her sanity intact.
    Brooke turned, pulled down the bottle of
tequila, and poured herself a shot. It felt necessary.

CHAPTER FOUR
     
    The hairs on Brooke's arm rose. She peeked
around the hood of the old Chevelle. Dane stood at the opening of
the garage, looking as though he didn't want any parts of the
building to come in contact with his pristine, cream-colored
sweater. No sideways buttons on this one, but these buttons looked
to be made of expensive wood and were purposefully off-center. He
had a plain white shirt and jeans. His boots looked gruff but only
because a factory made them appear that way.
    She shucked off her gloves and took out her
earplugs. His appearance meant it was lunch-slash-meeting time. He
stepped forward, skirting her toolbox, which was covered with grime
along its sides.
    Dane probably kept baby wipes next to his
bed for cleanup after sex. The thought made her chuckle.
    She straightened and stretched. She'd spent
her morning hunched over the beater. “Where are we going today?”
she asked.
    His gaze followed the languid movement of
her body. Every part of her went hot from the perusal.
    “ Brooke,” he said as a
greeting, then added, “Town square. I can piggyback on the mayor's
Wi-Fi and show you my finds.”
    She gasped in false scandalization. “You're
breaking society's rules?”
    “ It's not illegal, and if
he didn't want anyone to use it, he'd put a password on
it.”
    “ That you could probably
get from Naomi, but I'm still scandalized.”
    His jaw clenched for a second. “Not my fault
you assumed I followed all the rules.”
    “ You're right,” she said
and happily watched shock play over his face at her admission. She
unzipped the coveralls and tied the arms around her waist. “Let me
grab my lunch, lock up, yada, yada.”
    Five minutes