“You guys don’t have to do that,” I protested.

Trip walked by me. “Take the help, Miss Independent.”

I couldn’t help it, despite everything going around in my brain, I shook my head at him. “Fine. Help me then.”

Between the two of them, and with one, “What the hell is in these? Lead weights?” from Trip, they carried both boxes into the backyard, holding them high above the four-foot fence with only a small amount of grunting to get them over.

The moment the second one was set in the backyard for Mac to bark at later, Trip wiped his hands on his pants. “I’m gonna get going. There’s some business at the bar I need to handle before it closes. Di, we’ll have a play date again, I’m sure.”

“As long as you don’t ever say ‘play date’ again.”

He laughed and gave me a hug. “See you later, honey. Tell the boys I said bye. See ya, Dal,” he called out, closing the gate behind him with a wave of his fingers as he headed toward his bike.

Josh and Louie had gone straight inside, and it was only us two in the yard with the light outside the kitchen door illuminating the space for us.

There wasn’t a specific emotion on Dallas’s face; in fact, he looked so detached and unemotional, part of me felt like I’d fucked up telling him about who I’d been to let that happen to me years ago. Maybe he saw me different now. He saw that Diana instead of the one I was today and didn’t like her.

I couldn’t blame him. I didn’t like that Diana much either, honestly.

He was looking down at the crates when he finally spoke to me for the first time in almost an hour. “I wanna take a look at the inside so I can see what tools you need. You have a hammer by any chance?”

When I had started rubbing my palm on my jeans, I had no idea. “I have tools. I have a hammer. Let me grab it. It’s inside.”

Dallas still didn’t glance up as I went into my kitchen and grabbed my toolbox from one of the cabinets, lugging the colorful, metal container against my leg as I headed outside with it.

“God, this thing is heavy,” I told him as I walked down the steps with it. His attention was still on the ground as I dropped it right beside one of the crates, admiring the paint job my best friend had given it.

But as I looked up at the man who I thought was my friend and had just, barely an hour ago, offered to go kill someone for me, I frowned. He was staring, really staring, down at my toolbox. And as furious as his expression had been when I told him about my ex, it was nothing compared to the one that he had right then.

What was wrong with my box?

I toed it, glancing back and forth between it and him, not understanding. “It was my brother’s. I kept it after we sold most of his stuff, but it made me too sad and my best friend painted it for me. I thought it was fun. They look like those Giga Pets I used to have when I was a kid,” I explained. “They’re puppies. Who doesn’t like puppies?”

The exhaled, “Jesus fucking Christ,” had me frowning at Dallas.

I watched as both his hands went up to his head and he cupped each side of his skull, interlacing his fingers at the top.

“What is it?” I asked, suddenly getting a little frustrated at his reaction.

He didn’t seem to hear me as he sighed, the sound distraught and almost furious.

“What the hell did I do?” I asked him, not understanding but wanting to.

Dallas was still focused on the toolbox when he answered me, his voice thick and strained. “I can’t do this tonight, Diana. I can’t fucking do this right now.”

“Do what?”

“You’re—” He closed his eyes and covered them with his palms for a moment before dropping his arms at his sides. He finally raised his gaze to mine, something in those hazel irises looking pained as he said, “I’ll help you build it. Don’t ask your dad. I just can’t do it right now. Okay?”

“That’s all right.” I took in his stricken features all over again. “Are you okay?”

He lifted a hand but didn’t confirm yes or no. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He took a step back and eyed my toolbox one more time, his chest taking a big inhale and a bigger exhale. “Night.”

“Goodnight,” I called out to him as he turned and headed out of the backyard through the gate, closing it behind him. Then he was jogging across the street and disappearing up his pathway to his deck.

What the hell had just happened?

Chapter Nineteen

I knew before I even opened my eyes that Louie was standing by the side of the bed again. I just fucking knew, but it didn’t scare me any less.

“There’s a fire,” he whispered immediately before I could remind him he needed to quit scaring me in the middle of the night.

And, just like that, at his words, I sat straight up in bed and took a big inhale. “What?” I asked, knowing he wouldn’t be lying about something like that.

“The house is on fire,” he barely had to say before I threw the covers back, reaching for my phone at the same time.

“Our house?” I pretty much screeched, my thumb already hitting 9-1.

“No,” he answered. His little hands went to mine and squeezed. “The granny’s house.”

“Who?” I blinked.

“The granny. The old lady, Tia, remember? Miss Pearly?”

“Oh shit,” came out of my mouth before I could censor myself.