Page 41 of Hope After Loss

“It was. It’s some league that he and the farm manager play once a month. Rich couldn’t make it, so I was the fill-in.”

“Uh-huh, and thesleeping in his shirtpart?” She looks at me expectantly.

“Was just for convenience. It was late. We were hungry, and Kaela was sleeping, so he invited us to stay. He was a gentleman. End of story.”

“Weston might be a lot of things, but he’s no gentleman,” she quips.

I laugh. “He is a stinker,” I say.

“A stinker? Yes. He’s also dreamy. A little mischievous and a whole lotta sexy,” she muses.

“Yeah, he is, isn’t he? I kind of thought you and he were going to hook up at one point. Did you two ever?” I ask.

“No. Why did you think that?”

I shrug. “I’ve seen him flirting with you before.”

She rolls her eyes. “Lord, Weston flirts with everyone.”

“I know, but you’re single, and you obviously find each other attractive, so I assumed you two had …”

“No. I’m not gonna lie. I considered it, but at the time, Isley was running against Langford, and they’re brothers, so as her campaign manager, I thought it would be a conflict of interest.”

“But Isley was seeing Langford,” I state.

“Right? That bitch hasn’t got a professional bone in her body. I swear I should have jumped Weston when I had the chance.”

“What about now?” I ask.

She grins. “Oh, I don’t think he’s available anymore,” she says.

My attention snaps to her. “What do you mean?”

She laughs. “You know that feeling that just slid through you? The one that felt a little bit like panic and a whole lot like jealousy? That’s what I mean.”

She brings her bottle to her lips and takes a long sip while I process her words.

“I didn’t—” I begin to deny, but she cuts me off.

“It’s okay, you know. You’re allowed to have a crush on your boss.”

“I don’t,” I screech.

“You so do. It’s written all over you.”

Do I?

“Oh, bless your heart. You’ve been out of the cat-and-mouse game of romance for a long time. Don’t worry. It’s like riding a bike. It’ll all come back as soon as you admit it to yourself,” she assures.

“I don’t want to get back on the bike,” I say.

“Why not?”

“It’s too soon. Besides, Weston wouldn’t want me.”

“Are you serious? Why on earth wouldn’t he want you?”

“I mean, look at me. I’m a hot mess most days. I’m a widow with a toddler who rarely sleeps. I’m not exactly a catch,” I say.