Chapters (85)
- Dedication
- A Quick Note from Kathryn
- 1. Dean
- Dean
- 2. Tabitha
- Tabitha
- 3. Dean
- Dean
- 4. Tabitha
- Tabitha
- 5. Dean
- Dean
- 6. Tabitha
- Tabitha
- 7. Dean
- Dean
- 8. Dean
- Dean
- 9. Tabitha
- Tabitha
- 10. Dean
- Dean
- 11. Tabitha
- Tabitha
- 12. Tabitha
- Tabitha
- 13. Dean
- Dean
- 14. Dean
- Dean
- 15. Tabitha
- Tabitha
- 16. Tabitha
- Tabitha
- 17. Dean
- Dean
- 18. Dean
- Dean
- 19. Dean
- Dean
- 20. Tabitha
- Tabitha
- 21. Dean
- Dean
- 22. Tabitha
- Tabitha
- 23. Dean
- Dean
- 24. Tabitha
- Tabitha
- 25. Dean
- Dean
- 26. Tabitha
- Tabitha
- 27. Dean
- Dean
- 28. Tabitha
- Tabitha
- 29. Dean
- Dean
- 30. Tabitha
- Tabitha
- 31. Tabitha
- Tabitha
- 32. Dean
- Dean
- 33. Tabitha
- Tabitha
- 34. Dean
- Dean
- 35. Dean
- Dean
- 36. Tabitha
- Tabitha
- 37. Tabitha
- Tabitha
- 38. Dean
- Dean
- Epilogue
- WANT MORE DEAN AND TABITHA?
- A Note from the Author
- Acknowledgments
- Hang Out With Kathryn!
- About Kathryn
- Books By Kathryn
We all loved our aunt Linda to the moon and back, but she was the epitome of quirky relative and nosy as hell with a devotion to dating shows. It made me wonder if this was some kind of sneaky setup—not that I was complaining. But I’d thrown out a few flirtatious signals to the dark-and-stormy hunk standing in front of me, and I couldn’t read his reactions.
Except when he turned toward the lot, revealing his crooked-nose profile. That reaction I could read just fine. He glowered at it, the look not unlike the scary scowl he’d unleashed on Flailing Guy at the bar.
“Yeah, I know the story,” he said tightly. “After the city tore that house down last year, they’ve left it there. I spoke to a guy a few days ago; he said we were on our own with it. I’m trying to figure out what to do, but…” He trailed off, hand on the back of his head.
“Huh.” I tilted forward, craned my neck, and winced at how wrecked it looked. “I bet you could fix it up. In fact, I bet folks on this street would help. I would help you too.”
He grunted and shrugged. I was curious about the last few years since his retirement, about the depth of emotion buried beneath the surface of his words. How the sentence It’s all fine though made it obvious that everything was not, in fact, fine. I was an expert in bullshitting my way through questions that required a vulnerable answer, and I was pretty sure Dean was bullshitting me.
“For what it’s worth, I’ve been lucky to meet a lot of neighborhoods across the country facing abandoned structures like this, in cities with a lot of blight and a lot of people willing to fix it themselves if no one else will.”
Dean cut his eyes toward me but didn’t respond.
“It’s something beautiful to behold.” I held his gaze. “A block coming together to do some good. Just an idea to chew on, neighbor to neighbor.”
He nodded. “Thank you. And, uh…thanks for…” He trailed off again, and I almost thought he was blushing under the streetlight.
“Literally falling into your lap?” I suggested.
There was that ghost of a smile again. Swoop went my insides. “It was nice. Seeing you, I mean. Not…the lap part. That wasn’t not nice though.”
I grinned as I stepped inside. “I agree. It wasn’t not nice.” I winked at him before closing the door behind me. “Good night, neighbor. I’ll see you on the stoop tomorrow.”
As soon as the door shut, I fell back against it and let out a long, happy sigh.
The next two weeks just got a whole lot more interesting.
7. Dean
Seven