the way to the altar, before she dumped him.
William, however, barely paid her any mind. She’d have to be sure to thank him for putting on such a good show, and it was just for show, she reminded herself.
“Old friends,” Sylvia asked suspiciously. Her gaze moved suspiciously from Layla to William as she nibbled on the end of her sunglasses. “Well, we’re old friends too. Aren’t we, Layla? Yes, sir. We go way back.” Her big blue eyes sparkled with something that would’ve looked like mischief on a nice person, but on her it screamed troublemaker. Her bright red lips curved into a phony smile. “You know, you two should come on over to the Rustic Inn tomorrow night. Tyler’s band is playing, and you’ll have a chance to see old friends.” She winked at William. “And make new ones.”
Layla shrugged. “I don’t know if we can. We just—”
“We’d love to,” William said, cutting her off.
Her face heated with anger, and William just lost any points he’d earned. The man was so damn bossy she wanted to scream. She didn’t want to go anywhere that Sylvia was going to be, but she didn’t want to have a fight with William and give her any fuel for her fire. So instead of screaming, hell no , she plastered on a tight smile and managed to squeak out, “Sure. We can probably come by for a little while.”
Sylvia laughed and slid her oversized sunglasses back on. “Well, that’s just fabulous.” Then quicker than a snake, she slipped over and planted a kiss on William’s cheek. “It was very nice to meet you, handsome.” Then she turned on her heels and flounced away. “See y’all tomorrow evening,” she shouted as she disappeared around the corner. “Eight thirty sharp.”
Once Sylvia was out of sight, Layla shoved William away from her and muttered several unflattering comments about him as she got into the Jeep and slammed the door. She watched as William calmly got into the passenger seat.
“What the hell is wrong with you?” Layla snapped as she started the engine.
“I don’t understand why you’re so upset,” he said in that all-too-calm tone.
She shook her head and backed out of the space. “I guess it doesn’t matter,” she muttered and pulled onto the street.
“What doesn’t matter?” William shouted above the din of traffic.
“Human or Amoveo.” Layla shot him a look, shook her head, and threw it into high gear. “Men are dense.”
They drove back to the farm in silence. She knew that he wanted to talk and fix things, but she wasn’t in the mood. The truth was that she was as confused as he was, and on top of everything else, she couldn’t stop thinking about what Ginny had said about Rosie selling the farm.
When they got home, Layla didn’t say more than a word or two to William. Rosie was nowhere in sight, so she dropped the groceries in the kitchen, mumbled vague directions about where to put things, and went upstairs. All she wanted to do was to take a hot bath and be alone. She needed time to clear her head and think.
Ever since William had come around, everything was all topsy-turvy. Nothing made sense. She couldn’t think straight because her hormones kept getting in the way and muddying up the waters. A nice hot soak in the tub could cure almost any ill, and right now, that ill was a six-foot-two-inch hunk of bossy hotness.
Layla went into her room and closed the door. She leaned against the cool painted wood and shut her eyes. She savored the familiar smell of her childhood bedroom, a combination of cedar chips, clean cotton sheets, and a hint of jasmine, all of which conjured up feelings of peace, comfort, and safety.
Layla glanced at the clock and realized that it was almost dinnertime, but she was too tired to eat. A long hot bath was first, and then maybe a chat with Rosie. She’d sensed something going on with Rosie when she’d gotten home earlier today. She, Raife, and Tati had always made a concerted effort to respect Rosie’s privacy,