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“Uh, nope, no dueling. It’s nothing.” I panic a little. I don’t want Cole feeling sorry for me. I square my shoulders and put on my brave face. “I’m fine, honestly.”

His arched brow doesn’t retract, and I don’t think he believes me, even when he says, “You got any problems, just let me know. We’re neighbors now.”

“Does that mean I get to burden you with all my woes?” I tease playfully.

He doesn’t balk, not once. “Absolutely, if that’s what you need.” He grips my shoulder with one firm hand. “You with me,Shorty?”

I try not to swoon. He really is sweet, and I get he’s trying to make me feel better because he has some weird sixth sense.

“I’m with you if you stop calling meShorty.”

“Why? It suits you.”

“Haha. I’m vertically challenged, but good things come in small packages, or so they say.”

“Like poison?” Emma snarks as she passes by.

I poke my tongue at her. “Like marshmallows.”

“And diamonds,” Cole hollers after her. “And pearls. Well, any gemstone, really. Also, those little chocolate-covered cherries and mini pretzels.”

His words don’t help my fast developing crush. “See, that’s my point.”

“If you ask me, there’s not enough little things in the world.”

“Now you’re just being silly.”

He puts his hand over his heart. “I would never.”

I roll my lips. “Seriously, Cole. You’re the real gemstone.” The words are out before I can stop them. I mean, what am I saying? I quickly add, “I mean, the way you helped today. That was really sweet of you.”

He thumbs behind him. “I’m gonna head back to work if you’re all good here.”

I pale suddenly. “You’re doing overtime because of me?”

“I’d hardly call it overtime.I just need to catch up so we can finish on time.”

“I hope Trav didn’t mind you taking off early?” Now I feel bad.

“Nah, besides, I basically tell him what to do.” He pops a shoulder. “And he’s too busy with Pres and the baby to care.”

“Well, you were very good with April.”

“She’s very cute, though I’m pretty sure I won’t be babysitting anytime soon.”

“But you didn’t drop her, and you didn’t make her cry.”

“That’s true.Then again, I couldn’t keep my egg baby alive for more than two hours,” he confesses.

“What?” I snort. “Egg baby?”

“Yeah, you know, in school for sex education. They give you a paper mache egg to look after like it’s a baby, and you have to care for it over the weekend and make sure it stays ‘alive’ until Monday.”

“I’ve never heard of that. How did your egg baby fare?”

“I sat on him and he exploded.”

I burst out laughing, and he does too. “Oh, boy.”