Page 12 of Making It Up

Yeah, David is just like my dad.

CHAPTER 3

DAVID

Of course, Scott Hansen’s daughter is great.

Really great.

That’s very annoying.

It would be a lot easier if the asshole’s kids were assholes, but they’re not. I’m going to assume they get their good personalities from their mom.

I don’t know any of them well, but I’ve been around Peyton, Scott’s wife. She co-owns the bakery in town, and well, there’s no way I’m avoiding that place, even if Scott does have ties to it. Peyton is warm and funny and because my parents love to sit around with their friends and tell stories, I’ve overheard enough bits and pieces to know that Peyton gives Scott a hard time.

I like that about her.

But I can’t like Mia. We can’t be friends. We absolutely, definitely, no question about it can not be more than friends.

She’s making it very difficult to just not think about that at all though.

His librarian daughter—how did I forget she was the librarian? Maybe because I’m not really a library kind of guy—is gorgeous, funny, smart, and easy-going.

When we got to the basement, I told her to get comfortable while I did a few things around the house to make sure it was secure for the storm.

When I’d come back downstairs I’d found her stretched out on Tim’s old couch, propped up with a pillow, her boots off, and a blanket over her lap. She looks right at home.

And she took off the ball cap she was wearing. Now her long dark hair is spilling around her shoulders. It’s mussed from, well, everything, but I take in the waves, the coppery highlights, the way she doesn’t seem bothered by the fact that it’s messy.

I also notice the empty plate. She ate the whole sandwich and the banana and drank the entire bottle of water.

My first thought? Good girl.

But, fuck. I can’t say shit like that. I shouldn’t even think it. Or feel it.

But I really fucking like taking care of people and I love it when they just listen to me and follow my directions. It is always a good idea to do what I say, and the fact that Mia Hansen realizes that definitely has my attention.

I like fixing problems. I like helping people.

It’s only peanut butter and jelly. Don’t make this into something bigger.

But she’d been stranded out there alone, in the dark, for hours—my whole body tenses whenever I think about that—with a storm coming. Now she’s here, safe, warm, dry, fed…because of me.

You’re welcome, Chief Hansen.

I shouldn’t be thinking things like that either. I didn’t rescue her because of him. Hell, I hadn’t even known who she was. And it would probably be best if he didn’t know I was the one who helped Mia out tonight.

Kept her safe.

Looked out for her.

Took care of her.

I shove a hand through my hair and cross the room to drop into the recliner perpendicular to the couch.

This isn’t about Scott. Definitely not.

She smiles at me when I look over. “Are the tater tots almost done?”