you taking on that task. If I’m there, we’ll seem like a couple.”
“Okay.” He was both relieved and apprehensive. He just wanted to get it over with. The diner was a microcosm of the town. The initial reaction would represent how everyone felt. “When will you be ready to move?”
“Friday.”
Four days from now. He wondered why she was stalling. She’d already told him she didn’t have much to pack. “How about Saturday, instead? I book as few jobs as possible on weekends.”
“Works for me. Have you lined up a date for Saturday night?”
“I’m thumbing through my black book as we speak.”
She laughed.
“Do you need boxes?” he asked.
“I’m good, thanks. I called Dixie to fill her in, but I had to leave a message and she hasn’t called back. Have you talked to her?”
“We email about the house now and then.” Not only were he and Dixie connected through business, he’d been remodeling and expanding Dixie and Joe’s house for months while they were honeymooning and working overseas.
“I’ll try her again later. Um, would you ask Dylan to call me, please?” she asked. “We can set up a time for him to stop by the apartment and see what he’d like changed to suit him.”
“Sure.” He saw Dylan pull up in his Kincaid Construction truck. “I’ll stay in touch during the week, Shana. Let me know if you need anything.”
“I’d like to see your house before I move in. Figure out what I need to buy for our bedrooms.”
“How does tomorrow evening suit you?” They finalized their plans, then he ended the call and walked to where Dylan was parking.
“Hey, boss!” Dylan called out as he hopped down from the pickup.
“How’d the bathroom demo go?”
“All done.”
They went through the diner door. “Even the tub?” Kincaid asked.
“Room’s down to the studs. Found a few spots of dry rot.”
“How’d you get the tub out on your own? The thing weighed a ton.”
Dylan grinned. “Guess I’m stronger than you.” He jabbed Kincaid in the arm and danced around as if boxing.
It was hard to believe that until two months ago the kid had been homeless. He’d already packed about fifteen pounds onto his six-foot frame, but still didn’t weigh over one-fifty. He kept his hair a little long, and girls had started giving him the eye.
Kincaid waved at Honey, then they grabbed seats in the only open booth.
“Be right there, boys!” she called out, a plate in each hand, her long salt-and-pepper braid swinging side to side behind her.
“Eric called today,” Dylan said. “He and Marcy are coming up to see Gavin and Becca on Saturday. They invited me for lunch.” He looked away, his attention caught by four girls at a far booth who were sneaking glances at him and giggling.
Eric and Marcy Sheridan had rescued Dylan from the streets a couple months back. Eric’s sister, Becca, had recently married Shana’s brother, Gavin. Almost everyone in Chance City seemed to have a family connection to someone else.
Dylan dragged his gaze back to Kincaid. “Anyway, do you have something lined up for me on Saturday or is it okay if I have lunch with them?”
“You’re going to be a little busy on Saturday.”
Disappointment dulled his eyes, but Kincaid knew he wouldn’t argue about it. Dylan was grateful for the job, and more responsible than most eighteen-year-olds.
“You’re going to be moving,” Kincaid said, timing his words to coincide with Honey coming up to get their orders.
“Moving? Where? Why?” Dylan asked.
“Into the apartment above Respite.”
Dylan frowned. “That beauty shop place downtown?”
“It’s a salon, yes, but also a day spa. There’s a nice one-bedroom above it.”
“Where’s Shana going?” Honey asked.
“I hired her through At Your Service to work for me. I need a housekeeper, for one thing, but more than that. Shana is perfect for the job.”
Honey’s brows rose. “Isn’t that interesting.”
“It’s not personal, Honey. It’s strictly business.”
“I get an apartment all to myself?” Dylan asked, his eyes wide.
“Yes. It’s a building I own, so you’ll be paying me rent. I figure you’ve been freeloading off me for long enough.”
Dylan’s grin lit up the space.
“So … Emma, too, I suppose,” Honey said.
“Of course.”
“I’ve never seen you interact with a little one before.”
Probably because he hadn’t. He didn’t have an opinion on children one way or the other, but he also wasn’t going to be taking care of her. “I think she’ll enjoy having a yard to play in,” he said to Honey. “And I know Shana’s happy not to be commuting to Sacramento. It’s a good fit for everyone.”
Kincaid’s nerves settled some. Honey had reacted to the news, but she didn’t turn around and announce it to the crowd to egg on some bigger reaction. She would spread the word without fanfare, he figured.
Kincaid and Dylan ordered their dinners and talked about what it would mean for Dylan to have his own place, and all the responsibilities it entailed. Kincaid wasn’t sure Dylan was completely ready for the move, but it was the only way Kincaid could help Shana—at least, that she would accept. He’d keep a close eye on Dylan, make sure he didn’t flounder in his independence. Being homeless and forced to fend for himself was different from living in an apartment alone, where there were more temptations, not just a need to survive.
“Can we go see the place?” Dylan asked as Kincaid was paying the bill a while later.
“Not tonight. She said you should call her, though, and come over so she can help you redecorate a little. It’s kinda girly right now, I guess.”
The four teenage girls walked past them, each one smiling at Dylan. Kincaid had lived on his own at sixteen. He knew the potential hazards of it, especially when it came to the opposite sex. “We’ll need to have a birds-and-bees talk,” he said.
Dylan rolled his eyes.
“If you’re as smart as I think you are, you’ll pay attention to what I have to say,” Kincaid said.
“Yes,
