Chapter 8

DARCY

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This is a bad idea. Unfortunately, I'm nothing but a string of bad ideas right now. Taking on this project, for one. I may be full of positive vibes and grit with Chance, but the truth is, I'm in way over my head. I can use all the help I can get, even if it's someone to keep me from jumping off the Cooper River Bridge. After all, I'm sure keeping me alive is the bare minimum of Matt's obligation as Cole's best friend. But being my assistant? Above and beyond.

Matt's offer is generous. Kind. Maybe even noble. Helping his best friend's kid sister is typical Matt behavior because he's a good guy. A great guy. Ah, hell, who am I kidding? He's the guy I measure all other men against. There. Sammie would be proud of me. I admitted it to myself. The first step to solving a problem is acknowledgment, right? So, like step one in a twelve-step program?

Admitting it isn't the problem. The problem is that Matt is a great catch, the guy who lives in my head rent free. The bar is set so high no other guy comes close. I mean, I've dated. I go out with a guy, and there is always something wrong by date two. The problem? They aren't Matt Hartman.

It's more than his downright adorable kindness and his clean-cut charm. Mix in his tall, lean, muscular frame, and then add his thick, luscious, dark hair that I want to run my hands through. Combine it with his expressive brown eyes framed with long, full eyelashes that make me reevaluate my mascara. Whoa, is it warm in here? Top it off with a perfect smile that lights up a room, and he's lethal. He's gorgeous and dare I say, enchanting. And totally off limits. Not that he'd be interested in me.

Matt and Cole are a year older than me, but you'd have thought I was a different generation by how they treated me. I never dated in high school, waiting for the day Matt would notice me. I had notebooks full of my practice signature - Mrs. Darcy Hartman.

Granted, I was a late bloomer. I didn't get boobs until my senior year in high school, and by that time, Matt was off to college.

Sammie says I like Matt because he's unavailable and, therefore, unattainable. He's my brother's best friend, which makes him a no-go. He'll never see me in that way. Not the way he saw Penny Lewis, his high school girlfriend. When he asked her out, I cried for days. My mom was so distraught at my sudden depression she stayed home from work for two days to hang out with me because my behavior was so erratic. When he came home at Christmas during his first year in college with news they broke up, I thought he'd wake up and see me. He didn't. He threw himself more into baseball. I'm sure he hasn't been celibate, but Matt hasn't had a girlfriend in years, that I know of anyway.

A therapist would tell me I have unrealistic ideals and this crush is an unhealthy infatuation. Matt can't be all I make him out to be in my head. Except he is. Case in point. He just offered to be my assistant on this project, which has me so overwhelmed I agreed to the crazy idea. Yeah, this is bad on so many levels. Even though I've accepted that Matt is a nice guy who will never be interested in me romantically, a spark of hope ignites. Maybe?

I get into the passenger seat of his Toyota FJ, the same car he's had since his junior year in high school. I close my eyes and breathe in Matt. There's a hint of leather from the baseball gloves in the back, a lingering scent of his cologne, and coffee. This car smells like Matt.

I shake my head to clear all the errant thoughts and focus on the task at hand. I need to get to the designer's warehouse to review the fabric samples and complete the furniture orders. Matt's going to be miserable. I shudder at his torment and think of something to make it up to him.

Matt gets into the car, and when he turns on the ignition, the blast of the radio jolts me out of my jumbled thoughts with a startled squeak. Matt looks at me and smiles while he turns down the volume.

"Okay, Darce. What's first on the list today?" His fingers are ready to enter our destination into his GPS.

"Really, Matt, you don't have to do this. I need to pick out fabric for the furniture and bedrooms. I imagine getting a bikini wax would be more enjoyable for you."

Matt visibly shudders at the thought. "Damn, girl, can you not make me think about that? Nothing can be worse, can it?"

"Me wading through fabric samples? I'd wager I'm accurately describing the level of pain you'll be in."

"I'll take that bet. I've got time. And a male perspective. I mean, you're putting together a guy's house. That should count for something." He cocks his head to the side, giving me a half-shrug. "My helpfulness will amaze you." He gives me a little wink, and the butterflies in my stomach take flight. My reaction to his gesture is far different than when Chance does the same thing. Oh yeah, I'm in trouble.

"So where to, boss lady?" He hands me his phone to enter the address. With a shake of my head and a resigned sigh, I take it and tap away. He can't say I didn't warn him.

Matt looks at the directions, pulls his sunglasses out of the console, and then covers those beautiful chocolate eyes with his Ray-Bans. He turns the music back up, puts the windows down, pulls away from the curb, and drives toward his own circle of hell. As we cruise through downtown, Matt drums to the song with his thumb on the steering wheel, a genuine smile on his face. I've seen him do it a million times before, but something about it now makes me anxious. How much is Matt the same and how much has he changed over the past few years we've been apart?

I've studied Matt for years. Take his smiles, for instance. I know his fake ones from his polite ones. The smile he has now reaches his eyes. He's happy. It's the same one he has after a good batting practice. And in his prom photos with Penny. I assume he means it when he says he doesn't mind doing this with me. He's happy. For now.

"So, tell me about your vision for Chance's house?"

"You should see it. It's an enormous house with amazing potential. I'm mostly focused on updating the kitchen and the decorating. Jay, that's the contractor, is handling the heavy lifting. I'm most excited about the outdoor space. Chance wants a place where he and his crew can relax, so nothing fancy. Comfort with a masculine style. Not frat house chic, but something that allows guys to relax. His challenge was to make it better than Tripp Stevenson's Mexico house. That's a huge ask. I've seen pictures of that place."

"I've heard stories about Tripp's place from Cole. It's like a private resort, complete with house staff."

I gulp. That's my competition? A place with staff. Great. I fidget with my hair, taking it down and wrapping it back up in a messy ponytail. How am I going to top that?

I focus on Matt instead of the resort house. "Cole is lucky to have a friend like you."

"Nah, I'm the lucky one. Cole's like a brother to me." His smile fades, and he concentrates on the drive.

The change in mood is too noticeable not to comment on. "Something going on with you two?"

"What? No, I don't think so. Why?" He glances at me and looks back at the road.

"You just flinched when I mentioned him."

"No, I didn't."

"Yeah, you did. What's going on, Matt?" I let the silence sit between us.

"I miss him, that's all. We've been together for so long. Honestly, these last few months have been tough. I haven't bonded with anyone on my new team. That's not uncommon when new draftees come in mid-season. Baseball is all about competition, and most of the guys had to work up to where I am, taking them years. I took Frankie's position, who was on third for two years when I came in, and it's just awkward."

"Cole's experienced a little of that, too," I add.

"Yeah, but he has Ashleigh to come home to. It's an adjustment I wasn't prepared for. I always knew it was a possibility we wouldn't play for the same team, but I was hopeful, that's all."

"No, that's not all, Matt. Don't dismiss it. I can't imagine not being around Sammie. It's a huge life change for you. I know I'm not Cole, but maybe I can be your surrogate Davidson? You know, friends?"

It pains me to say friend, but I'll take any piece of Matt I can. Knowing how lonely he is for friendship, I offer that. It's more than I had of him a month ago.

"Well, you're the prettier Davidson, that's for sure," he says with a smile.

"Oh, I don't know about that. Cole is a pretty boy, after all." A blush fills my cheeks.

We pull into the parking lot, and Matt parks the car. He takes his sunglasses off and turns to look at me.

"I may not know much, but Darcy Davidson, you are by far the prettiest girl I know."

My face doesn't hide the look of shock at Matt's statement. He reaches over and puts his hand under my chin to close my mouth, which is literally hanging open.

"Come on, pretty girl," he says as he opens his car door. "Let's get this done so you can graduate."