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“What?” I found myself feeling defensive.

“Nothing. Just curious.”

We rode in silence for approximately four seconds.

Then he asked, “How long have you and Damon been together?”

And there it was. The reason he’d offered me a ride. He wanted to get the scoop.

“A little while.”

“Really?”

“Yep.”

“That's weird.”

I turned toward him. “Why?”

“Because he never mentioned you two had a thing.”

I smiled tightly. “Maybe he likes his privacy.”

“Privacy?” Dylan laughed. “We are talking about Damon, right?”

I didn't like the sound of that. Mainly because Dylan was right. Damon valuing privacy was laughable.

“We're pretty close,” he continued. “Always have been. He usually tells me everything.”

“Maybe he wanted to keep this to himself.”

“Maybe.”

He glanced at me. There was something calculating in his expression. Something that told me the youngest Lockhart was a lot more observant than his wild man reputation suggested.

“I don’t know about that, but I do know you do make him happy.”

He was the second person to say that. I didn’t understand. Damon was always happy. “I do?”

Dylan nodded. “Yes.”

My heart gave an unexpected little squeeze.

“He's always smiling,” Dylan added. “But for the past couple of days he’s been walking around like he won the lottery.”

I stared out at the rolling hills. Damon was a good actor. That was all. He was committed to our arrangement. Nothing more. Nothing less.

Right?

Dylan pulled up in front of Damon's house.

“Here you go.”

I climbed out. “Thanks for the ride.”

“Anytime.” As he drove away, he called over his shoulder, “Tell my brother I said hi!”

I waved. Then headed up the porch steps. Banjo the cat was stretched out in a patch of sunshine, looking like he'd personally invented relaxation.