Page 24 of Danny Hall Gets a Lawyer (Goose Run #1)

Grace was sitting with them, chattering away. There were Lucky Charms and splashes of milk all over the table underneath her bowl. “Uncle Danny!”

“Hey, sweet pea. Is your dad still in bed?”

“He’s snoring,” she said. “I was hungry, so Uncle Chase got me Lucky Charms. After this, we’re going to fill up my pool.”

Her pool was one of those cheap-as-shit plastic sandpit things from Walmart.

We’d had it about a year, and it was so brittle from sun exposure that it was probably going to crack any day now, but Grace still loved getting in it and splashing around.

So did Chase, because scratch the surface of that snarky asshole and there was a four-year-old just underneath.

He’d punch me if I ever said that, of course.

“That sounds great,” I said, glancing at Cash, who still looked stressed as hell.

“Yeah,” Chase said. “Did your mom pack your bathing suit?”

Grace dropped her spoon with a clatter. “I’ll go see!”

She raced out of the room, and I took a seat. “What’s up, Cash?”

Chase shot me a grateful look. “He’s in his head. Tell him to stop guilt-tripping over you and Miller.”

I wasn’t awake enough for this. “What about me and Miller?”

Chase sat back and folded his arms. “He thinks he broke you up.”

Cash glared at his brother, then dropped his gaze and stared at his plate as he mumbled, “I freaked Miller out.”

“What?”

“Yeah, he thinks Miller’s avoiding you,” Chase said.

“Why would you think that? Miller’s fine.”

“Then where is he?” Cash ground out, prodding at his cereal like it had offended him.

“He’s out of town for the weekend.”

Cash’s head snapped up and he narrowed his eyes like he thought I was lying or something.

“So to be clear, Miller’s not avoiding you,” Chase said.

“No? He’s in Richmond, visiting his family.”

“See?” Chase said, turning to Cash. “I told you, dumbass. You didn’t scare him away with your nightmare. Danny and his boyfriend are fine.”

I jolted at that. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

The twins looked at me wearing identical expressions of disbelief.

“Uh, pretty sure he is,” Chase said. “He’s gone for you, bruh.”

I listened to make sure Grace wasn’t on her way back. “We’re fuck buddies, that’s all.”

Cash rolled his eyes. “Fuck buddies don’t bring donuts.” The fact he’d said it out loud told me he was convinced he was right, and it was a point he felt was important to make.

“We’re just casual, I swear,” I said. “We’re not dating or anything.”

Cash’s raised eyebrow clearly said he thought I was full of shit. And okay, maybe he had a point. I’d had hookups before. None of them had included dinner and walks in the park and snack delivery, or texting back and forth, or quite so many sleepovers.

Fine, Miller might be more into me than I’d thought. I kind of liked the idea, and I couldn’t stop a dumb smile spreading across my face. Cash seemed to feel better too because he lost that haunted expression he’d been wearing and ate the rest of his cereal.

By the time Grace got back, wearing her swimsuit and ready for the pool, he looked a lot brighter.

After I’d eaten breakfast and done a load of laundry, I drove over to Sunny Fields to see Grandma. When she saw me, she pulled me into a hug, and I soaked it up. It felt like too long since I’d seen her, even though it had only been about a week, and I’d missed her.

When she pulled back, she gave me a knowing smile. “I’d ask where you’ve been, but I’ll bet it has something to do with that cute lawyer.”

My face heated and she laughed, clearly delighted.

“I knew it! You’re dating him!”

“We’re not dating,” I said. “We’re just…”

“Doing the horizontal tango? Bumping uglies? Knocking boots? Saving a horse and riding a cowboy? No, wait, that one doesn’t make sense. Oooh, I know!” She got a gleam in her eye. “Is your lawyer… helping you get off?”

“ Grandma! ” I burst out laughing.

She laughed too and patted my chest. “I’m just teasing. I’m happy for you, Danny.”

I followed her into the living room. Grandma sat in her armchair and I took a seat on her nice, clean, jizz-free couch. At least, I hoped it was jizz-free, but sometimes with Grandma it was better not to think about it.

“We’re just fooling around some,” I said. To change the subject, I pointed at a cat figurine on her bookshelf. “Is that new?”

“Emma-Lee sent it to me,” Grandma said. “Now I believe you were telling me about Miller.”

She was impossible to get off track. “It’s not serious.”

“I never said it was,” she said, tucking her legs up under her in her armchair. “I mean, you’re too smart to get involved with someone like that.”

I had no idea what she was talking about. “Someone like what?”

Grandma raised an eyebrow. “Well, I mean he’s fine for a fling and all but think about it. Miller’s a city boy, isn’t he? Look at the way he dresses. Too fancy for Hopewell, let alone Goose Run. I like him just fine, but he’s hardly a beer and burgers type of guy, is he?”

I stared at her, wondering if she’d taken a fall and cracked her head because Grandma usually didn’t care about stuff like that.

And Miller was a beer and burgers guy—at least he had been last week, briefly.

He was also hot and smart and funny, and a little bit nerdy and generous to a fault.

And he was a guy who, when he smiled at me, made my stomach flutter and my heart beat faster.

And he was way out of my league. I’d thought it more than once myself, and here was Grandma saying the same thing, except maybe she wasn’t saying it exactly how I’d meant it. She was saying that Miller and I didn’t belong in different leagues, but that we came from different worlds.

The sudden queasy swoop in my gut made me realize something.

I was falling for Miller Clarke.

I mean, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise. Miller was the total package, and I wasn’t just talking about his dick—although that was pretty great. A whole lot of my time was spent wondering when I could see him again.

It should have been a happy realization, except we came from different worlds.

And then I saw the expression on Grandma’s face.

She was testing me. Pushing me to make me admit something to myself that I’d been dancing around for a while now.

Of course Grandma didn’t give a shit if Miller polished his real leather shoes and had a law school degree, whereas this morning I’d added water to the shampoo bottle for the third time just to try to stretch it out.

Pretty sure I was washing my hair in just water at this point.

Washing it in cold water since we were still waiting on the plumber.

Anyway, that stuff didn’t matter to Grandma, and she was reminding me that it shouldn’t matter to me. So I guessed the only question was, did it matter to Miller ?

“He is actually a beer and burgers guy,” I said. “And just because he dresses nice doesn’t mean he’s a snob or something.”

“Well, good,” Grandma said with a smile. “I’m glad to hear that.”

I realized she’d been angling to make me say it the whole time.

I thought of Miller again. Maybe we could take this to the next level and actually date. I mean sure, we lived in different towns and lived different lives, but we could make it work. Hell, we’d been making it work so far, right?

That was assuming he felt the same—which was a hell of a leap on my part. Miller thought I was cute, and we were fire between the sheets, but that didn’t automatically mean he wanted more.

But despite telling myself not to get too excited at the idea, I couldn’t stop hope welling up in me. Miller would be back in Hopewell late this afternoon. Would it be weird and stalkery if I drove over and waited for him? Probably.

I’d text him first, and then I’d drive over and meet him.

I just hoped this didn’t turn out to be a mistake.

As the day wore on, restlessness bubbled away under my skin. I tried to ignore it, along with the churning in my gut and the nasty little voice that whispered I was about to make a giant fool of myself.

Miller likes you , I reminded myself. He’d invited me over and asked me to stay.

He called me just to talk. And he was a decent guy.

So even if he wasn’t into the idea of something more, he wasn’t gonna be a dick about it.

And hey, I could always fall back on the classics—namely, I’d suck his dick, and then we’d never mention that me and my stupid feelings had made things awkward ever again.

No big deal.