“Thanks,” she said sincerely. “Speaking of that. I’m a little confused about something.” She paused, considering the best way to ask the unsettling and embarrassing question. But, in the end, she decided to just be straightforward and ask him outright. “Josh, why did you ask me to dinner?”

“Because you were upset, and I thought maybe you needed someone to talk to. That’s what friends do.”

“Of course. I just wasn’t sure if you were looking at this as more of a…”

“Date?”

She bit her lip. “Yeah.”

“Nope. I never looked at this evening as anything more than two friends hanging out. While you’re beautiful—inside and out—I know I don’t have a chance in hell. Adam won that particular race while I was still standing at the starting gate. But…” Josh’s face broke with a smirk. “If he doesn’t get his crap together soon, you know where to find me.” He winked to let her know that he was kidding.

Well, she hoped he was anyway.

*  *  *

Adam had spent the entire night pacing and driving himself up the wall. He hated knowing that Preslee was out with another man. Especially since there wasn’t a thing he could do about it.

Damn it. Why hadn’t he told her the truth sooner? Preferably before she found out on her own. While he didn’t doubt that she would have been upset either way, finding out like she did had only made things worse. And he’d never gotten the chance to tell her how he really felt about her.

He’d tried to call her several times last night and then again this morning, but her cellphone went straight to voicemail each time. She must’ve turned it off because she hadn’t wanted to talk to him. But he wasn’t going to let her go that easily. He loved her. Even if she chose to never forgive him, she needed to at least know that.

And she was about to find out.

Adam shoved open the door to the antique shop and stepped inside, heading directly for the desk. No one was there, so he rang the bell sitting on the counter and waited impatiently. When a door to the back room opened, hope bloomed in his chest. But unfortunately it wasn’t Preslee who came through the door.

A tall, dark-haired older man entered, wearing a cast on his arm nestled inside a dark blue sling, his expression curious. “Can I help you, son?”

Adam swallowed. Great. This wasn’t at all the way he pictured himself meeting her father for the first time. “Is Preslee here?”

Her father gazed at him warily before answering. “She’s not available at the moment. Is there something I can do for you?”

“No, I just need to speak to your daughter. It’s important.”