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“I’m not a mind reader. How the hell was I supposed to know you were planning to sneak in?”

“When am I not?” He crosses one ankle over the other and leans against the desk.

“Touché. You going out tonight?”

“Maybe,” he replies, so he’s got plans for sure. “You?”

“It’s the fire meeting tonight so we’re grabbing wings after. I’m picking Sam up,” I say, attempting to be casual.

“Look at you blushing!” He slaps his leg as his face lights up. “You finally asked her out?”

“I didn’t call it a date,” I say, feeling the need to clarify this isn’t going to be our first date. No, it’s going to be something special.

One eyebrow raises and he oozes judgment in a way that only Chuck Landen can.

“Shut up,” I grumble.

“Just don’t let her put you in the friend zone.”

Doubt creeps into my mind, reminding me of how easy she was around Jax.

“On second thought, don’t overthink it,” Chuck says. “Listen to your gut.”

My mind races about how I’m approaching the most-perfect human being I’ve ever encountered in an attempt to date her. If only I had half of Chuck’s confidence. Unfortunately, Maisy shredded whatever I had to bits. I just hope that, if she’s interested, Sam really is everything she seems to be.

Chapter 3: Sam

The five outfits that lay neatly organized on my bed have my complete attention until the ticking from the antique alarm clock on my nightstand reminds me I’m not ready. Tommy will be here in fifteen minutes and he’s never late, which means he might show up earlier than he said.

My nerves keep creeping up and it takes a few breaths to settle them so I can avoid breaking out in a full sweat.

Not. A. Date.

Tommy Landen has his pick of people in this town. He has to. Yes, Jacksy has his own charm that seems to draw in people left and right, but Tommy… He’s the full package: smarter than anyone I know, sweet, kind, thoughtful, and so sexy. I could get lost in those sparkling blue eyes of his for days.

Shaking my head to remind myself that this is not a date, I refocus my efforts. He’s simply being a kind friend to me, just like he is with Avery and Courtney. Nothing more. So, if this isn’t a date, what do I wear to a work function that will turn into drinks and apps?

The pencil skirt is too work-centric, especially for this small town. I put that and the blouse I paired with it back in my closet. It’s not hot enough today to have a/c on, so the bar won’t be freezing.

The two sets with pants go back to the closet as well.

Okay, that’s progress.

The flowy skirt with a high-neck sleeveless top with strappy tan, but sensible, heels would work with a casual blazer with the sleeves rolled up for the meeting and would look casual without it after. Or I can wear the long slacks-like shorts with the button down navy shirt with eyelets paired with my tan ballet flats.

My eyes bounce back and forth for another minute and I realize I’m chewing my thumbnail. Again. I turn around and grab the bottle of polish from my bathroom counter to touch up the chip I made. I look back at my bed.

“Just pick one, Samantha,” I mutter, blowing on my nail.

With a rare burst of courage, I let myself consider that maybe, just maybe, Tommy might be thinking of this as a pseudo-date. Grabbing the shorts ensemble, I hang it back up, deciding to wear the flowy skirt.

Only ten minutes, which means I need to be waiting at my door to leave in five. I release a quick breath to steady my nerves and step out of my robe to get dressed, making sure that nothing is out of place. A childhood memory of having my skirt tucked into my underwear pops into my mind and I smooth the fabric down and check myself in the mirror as I add my jewelry.

“That’s not gonna happen again, Samantha, and you know it,” I say to my reflection.

Worst-case scenario is that Tommy will notice before anyone else and fix it himself just like he does for his two besties. Which means I’ll be friend-zoned.

I snort. It’s not like I’m not already there.