They contemplated the view. Main Street was empty, which made sense given that everyone was around back for the Anti-Festival. But it was a gorgeous night. The sun over the lake was turning the sky orange, and it was cool and breezy with that crisp scent of autumn in the air.

“Sawyer, have you been sending tradespeople here?” She was pretty sure she knew the answer, but she wanted to hear him admit it.

He winced. “I might have sent one or two your way.”

“Why would you do that?” Was it because he felt guilty? In order to be able to decide how she felt about his meddling, she needed to know the answer to that question.

He rotated his neck like he was uncomfortable. “Trades are hard to find around here. And all the new development in Grand View has sucked up a lot of them. There’s one guy in the area who’s a total crook—I think the douchebag developer used him—and I didn’t want you to get mixed up with him.”

“But why? And not just the inn.” She gestured to the lake. “The swimming, too. I mean, I know we’re not not-friends now, but why are you being so nice to me?”

He didn’t say anything. Just stood there and stared down at the town, while he gripped the wrought-iron railing like it was the only thing between him and certain death.

Just when she was about to give up and suggest they go inside, he let go of the railing, grabbed her shoulders, leaned in, and— Oh my God, was he going to kiss her?

Thunk.

Their hard hats bonked into each other.

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Thirteen

The next day, as he was getting himself settled in a lawn chair in the audience for Medea, Sawyer’s face was still burning. His mouth was talking to Law, but his mind was freaking out.

What the hell was the matter with him? What had he been thinking?

Well, he hadn’t been, clearly.

Thank God for those hard hats. They were supposed to protect against falling debris, against physical danger. Turned out they were also good at protecting weak-willed men from making epic mistakes.

He looked around anxiously, not sure whether he wanted her to be here or didn’t want her to be here. She made him feel like a bumbling teenager. Which was weird, because he hadn’t felt that way around her back when he was a bumbling teenager.

“Hello?” Law was waving his hand in front of Sawyer’s face.

“Sorry. Yeah?” He leaned back in his chair and slouched down.

“Are you hiding?”

He sat up straight. “No.”

“She’s helping with the costumes, so she’s not even here.”

“Who isn’t here?”

Law snorted.