having it, and what happens? Zach walks through the door to where they were seated.
With a glance at the dark sky above her, Laney mumbled, “Really?” Because, God surely had a wicked sense of humor. And what the heck was the deal with Zach looking like that? He was in a pair of very dark-washed jeans, a leather belt that accentuated his trim waist, and—wait a minute—a maroon-colored button-down shirt?
“Aww, how cuuuuute! Twinsies!” Lawson exclaimed. “Did you two call each other on the phone and plan your outfits? A-dor-a-ble!” he sang the last word and clasped his hands together.
Tate grinned. “But, really. This,” she waved a hand between Laney and Zach, “is pretty coincidental.” She giggled. “You’re just missing the black sweater, Zach.”
“Ha, ha, freaking ha,” Zach muttered, setting his bag down at the foot of the chair he slid into—the chair beside Tate which had been one of two chairs available.
And obviously not choosing the available chair right beside her.
Message received, loud and clear.
* * *
He noticed the quick flash of hurt on Laney’s face when he chose the open chair next to Tate. She had masked it quickly, but he still caught it. And he didn’t care.
Okay, that was a lie. He was working on not caring. On shutting those feelings down, locking them up tight.
“I saw Foster’s truck just as I was walking up so he should be here soon.” Zach avoided looking in Laney’s direction. “Anyone want anything from the bar? I’m going to get a beer.”
Lawson nodded. “Sounds good, man. The usual for me.”
“I think I’ll just have a water tonight.” Tate’s eyes darted uneasily from Zach to Laney.
Zach turned his gaze to Laney, focusing on a point over her shoulder. “Anything for you?” His voice was casual and he was proud at how collected he sounded.
“The usual, please?” Her answer came out more as a question, tentative and so unlike Laney that his gaze almost slipped to meet her eyes. Almost.
“Got it.” He stood abruptly to get their drinks.
“Actually, I’ll give you a hand.” He heard Lawson follow him and the two of them walked through the side door.
Making their way to the end of the bar where they saw Big Mike, he caught sight of them and came over. “What’re you guys drinking tonight?”
Zach gave him their order, adding Foster’s usual beer to the list. He watched as Big Mike filled the order and waited. Waited on what was sure to come.
“Soooo,” Lawson dragged out the word. “Your strategy is to not sit near her, not make eye contact and, last but not least, be all matchy-matchy with her outfit?” Lawson held up his hands, palms facing Zach. “I mean, I don’t have anything against it, but it really wasn’t what I was expecting.
“Can I just add that if you’re planning on taking this whole dress-like-Laney thing seriously I would highly, and I mean highly, advise against adding makeup to your look? Because, dude, I have to be honest. Your skin is great. You’re like one of those true beauties—”
“Laws.” Zach gave him a death glare. “Enough.”
“Oooh! I bet she would find that low, growly voice sexy. Why don’t I go get her right now?”
Resisting the urge to slap the smile off his friend’s face was painful. Downright pain-ful.
He inhaled deeply, in an attempt to calm himself. “Remind me again why we’re friends?”
Lawson just laughed and slapped him on the back. “Because you know the truth, Z. That I kid because I care,” Lawson told him with a wide, toothy grin.
“Any chance you could start caring less?”
“Mmmm, let me think. Nope.”
Zach released a long, drawn out sigh, shaking his head with a dry laugh. “That’s what I thought.”
C HAPTER F IFTEEN
“I LOVE IT! THANK YOU , Fos!” Tate shot out of her chair to run around and hug him, still holding the set of earrings he had bought her. They were dangly, two thin, silver wisps curling into the shape of a heart at the tail
With a glance at the dark sky above her, Laney mumbled, “Really?” Because, God surely had a wicked sense of humor. And what the heck was the deal with Zach looking like that? He was in a pair of very dark-washed jeans, a leather belt that accentuated his trim waist, and—wait a minute—a maroon-colored button-down shirt?
“Aww, how cuuuuute! Twinsies!” Lawson exclaimed. “Did you two call each other on the phone and plan your outfits? A-dor-a-ble!” he sang the last word and clasped his hands together.
Tate grinned. “But, really. This,” she waved a hand between Laney and Zach, “is pretty coincidental.” She giggled. “You’re just missing the black sweater, Zach.”
“Ha, ha, freaking ha,” Zach muttered, setting his bag down at the foot of the chair he slid into—the chair beside Tate which had been one of two chairs available.
And obviously not choosing the available chair right beside her.
Message received, loud and clear.
* * *
He noticed the quick flash of hurt on Laney’s face when he chose the open chair next to Tate. She had masked it quickly, but he still caught it. And he didn’t care.
Okay, that was a lie. He was working on not caring. On shutting those feelings down, locking them up tight.
“I saw Foster’s truck just as I was walking up so he should be here soon.” Zach avoided looking in Laney’s direction. “Anyone want anything from the bar? I’m going to get a beer.”
Lawson nodded. “Sounds good, man. The usual for me.”
“I think I’ll just have a water tonight.” Tate’s eyes darted uneasily from Zach to Laney.
Zach turned his gaze to Laney, focusing on a point over her shoulder. “Anything for you?” His voice was casual and he was proud at how collected he sounded.
“The usual, please?” Her answer came out more as a question, tentative and so unlike Laney that his gaze almost slipped to meet her eyes. Almost.
“Got it.” He stood abruptly to get their drinks.
“Actually, I’ll give you a hand.” He heard Lawson follow him and the two of them walked through the side door.
Making their way to the end of the bar where they saw Big Mike, he caught sight of them and came over. “What’re you guys drinking tonight?”
Zach gave him their order, adding Foster’s usual beer to the list. He watched as Big Mike filled the order and waited. Waited on what was sure to come.
“Soooo,” Lawson dragged out the word. “Your strategy is to not sit near her, not make eye contact and, last but not least, be all matchy-matchy with her outfit?” Lawson held up his hands, palms facing Zach. “I mean, I don’t have anything against it, but it really wasn’t what I was expecting.
“Can I just add that if you’re planning on taking this whole dress-like-Laney thing seriously I would highly, and I mean highly, advise against adding makeup to your look? Because, dude, I have to be honest. Your skin is great. You’re like one of those true beauties—”
“Laws.” Zach gave him a death glare. “Enough.”
“Oooh! I bet she would find that low, growly voice sexy. Why don’t I go get her right now?”
Resisting the urge to slap the smile off his friend’s face was painful. Downright pain-ful.
He inhaled deeply, in an attempt to calm himself. “Remind me again why we’re friends?”
Lawson just laughed and slapped him on the back. “Because you know the truth, Z. That I kid because I care,” Lawson told him with a wide, toothy grin.
“Any chance you could start caring less?”
“Mmmm, let me think. Nope.”
Zach released a long, drawn out sigh, shaking his head with a dry laugh. “That’s what I thought.”
C HAPTER F IFTEEN
“I LOVE IT! THANK YOU , Fos!” Tate shot out of her chair to run around and hug him, still holding the set of earrings he had bought her. They were dangly, two thin, silver wisps curling into the shape of a heart at the tail
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