A few minutes? “How long were you standing there, creeping on me?” And God, what dance moves had she busted out? She didn’t claim to be the most graceful person on the planet, and there had definitely been some ill-timed hip thrusts. Oh jeez, would she ever not come across as awkward and goofy in front of him?

“Long enough.” Wes picked up an earbud and put it in his ear.

A twangy country song about broken hearts now played from the other one dangling at Sarah’s chest. Great. Of all songs, a swoony country ballad?

But Wes closed his eyes and started singing along, off-key…and not exactly the right words.

Sarah looked at him with amusement. “You know this song?”

“It’s my anthem these days. Girl left me, truck keeps breaking down, and dog ran away.”

Her eyes widened. “Your dog ran away?”

He laughed. “Okay, two out of three.”

She held out a hand, and he gave her back the earbud. She hit Pause on the music. “Really, what are you doing here?”

“Told you, I’m here to work.” He set his spiked coffee on the dresser, moved to the middle of the room, and opened a new roller and tray.

“You didn’t have to…” She was glad he did, but having him there, having him choose helping her over a night out, had her feeling all kinds of emotions she had no business feeling.

“Sarah, I’m here. I want to be here,” he said, his gaze burning into hers until she could barely breathe on the thick air surrounding them. He cleared his throat. “Any plan of attack I should know about?” he asked, pouring more paint into the tray.

“Yes. Get it done,” she said in as bossy of a tone as she could muster. He’d come back to help her. He’d given up a rare night out. She wouldn’t read anything into it. She’d practically guilted him into it. And he probably just wanted more billable hours…

“I like it,” he said, getting to work on the opposite wall.

A long beat of silence fell between them before she asked, “So is running your own construction company everything you’d hoped it would be?” She dipped the roller in paint and started on the wall adjacent to him.

“My dream was football,” he said, the longing in his voice after all this time surprising her.

Guess dreams didn’t just evaporate when reality shat all over them. Sarah remembered Wes’s desire to go pro. In fact, one of her best memories of Blue Moon Bay was watching their high school team, the Panthers, play on Friday nights. Wes was a wide receiver, and seeing him out there on the field in his gear had set her teenage hormones ablaze. “At least you got to do what you loved for a little while,” she said.