In the Market for Love

by Squires, Megan

  “Yeah, I picked up on that,” Cole said, laughing.

  They continued their banter throughout dinner, and Cole was pleased that they were able to maintain a cordial tone for the remainder of the evening. He wasn’t sure how long it would last, but he would enjoy it while it did. But what he enjoyed almost more than the conversation was the food. The Lover’s Special was a real winner. They’d divvied up the portions, splitting everything onto two plates of equal size. Sophie hadn’t been exaggerating—she really did love a good meal. She just dove right in and there was something refreshing about watching a woman eat without any worry as to how she came across. Cole had dated too many women in the past that would pick at their salad, just pushing lettuce around their plate with their fork like they were creating a mosaic out of their food. It was such a waste of a good meal, and a good paycheck.

  Several times throughout their night, Cole would say something that would cause Sophie to burst into a fit of laughter and each time it caught him off guard in the best way, even when water sprayed out of her mouth during a particularly boisterous laugh. She’d apologized profusely, but if anyone needed to offer an apology, it was Cole. He’d told Sophie that he would keep their dinner strictly professional, but as their evening progressed, he realized at some point it had shifted from a formal meeting to something more. There was no denying their chemistry. It was clear in the way Sophie looked at him with rapt attention when he spoke about how he’d acquired his GMC as a teenager and it was evident in the way she let him take the bill from the waiter without a challenge.

  “This place is a real winner, Soph,” Cole said, catching himself. “Soph-ie.”

  “You can call me Soph,” she said as she gathered her purse from the back of her chair and unzipped it. She reached in and took out a tube of peach-colored lip gloss and ran it across her mouth. “Since we’ve sort of had our first date and all.”

  Cole perked up like a dog being told it was time for a walk. “Oh really? Is that what this was after all? A date?”

  “Well, I mean, you did pay for my meal.”

  “Correction. I paid for my meal. You just ate half of it.”

  Sophie smiled and tucked her gloss back into her purse. “I would’ve eaten a lot more if you hadn’t hogged all the manicotti. You took the two biggest pieces!”

  “Really? I didn’t even notice. I suppose we’ll just have to come back here again so you can get your fair share.”

  “Nah, next time I’m taking you to One Fish, Two Fish.”

  “Next time?” Cole’s eyebrows shot up. “We’re getting dinner number two on the books already?”

  “Only because you strike me as the sort of guy who’s never had sushi and I want to be with you for that adventure,” Sophie said, shrugging noncommittally. “But in all honesty, Cole, we probably shouldn’t make a habit of this.”

  Cole’s throat tightened with a swallow, the high he’d been riding throughout their evening suddenly crashing like a rug tugged out from underneath him. “We shouldn’t?”

  “My brother works for Channel 12 News.”

  “And that’s a problem because?”

  “Because they sponsor the Backyard and Beyond Summer Showcase. It’s sort of a conflict of interest for us to be involved.”

  A word never sounded so enticing to Cole. “Involved?”

  “Well, you know what I mean,” she stammered, but he didn’t know. “It’s just—I’m not saying we’re anything or that this is anything or even the start of anything.” She waved her hand between them. “I can’t be connected to you since my brother works for the station, Cole. It would jeopardize everything. Two years ago, the first place winner had their title stripped when it was discovered the contestant was second cousins with one of the camera guys. The station seems to take things very seriously when it comes to contest rules.”

  Cole dropped his napkin to his lap. “Well, that stinks.”

  “I probably should’ve brought that up earlier. I’m sorry.”

  “It’s not your fault.” Cole shrugged, hoping to hide his disappointment, but he doubted he did a decent job. He smiled when he joked, “Any chance we can get your brother to quit his job? I mean, he’s not really committed to being an anchorman, is he? What was his back up plan if this career choice didn’t work out?”

  “This was his backup plan after the failed startup business with our brother. But you can ask him yourself on Sunday if you like. We have a family dinner at my parents’ house and you’re welcome to tag along—but only as an acquaintance I barely know,” she said, winking.

  How this ‘strictly business dinner’ had not only turned into a date, but into an invitation to meet Sophie’s parents, Cole couldn’t comprehend, but he didn’t question it. “I’m happy to pretend to be someone you drug in off the street. And believe it or not, I’m actually dying for a decent home cooked meal.”

  “Well, that’s kind of ironic because my mom’s cooking just might kill you.”

  “Man, if that’s the case, I think I should cash in our sushi trip before I kick the bucket.”

  Grinning demurely, Sophie’s lips bent into a smile. “Fair enough. Tomorrow at noon.” Looking up at him in a way that made Cole’s breath catch, she said, “And this time I will take you up on that offer for a ride.”

  7

  Sophie

  WHAT ON EARTH had she been thinking? That was the question that looped in Sophie’s brain throughout a fitful night’s sleep, like an annoying cycle of déjà vu. She knew it wasn’t a good idea to let her guard down with Cole, yet somehow she’d done exactly that the night before at the restaurant. Not only had she let it down, she’d invited him completely in—to her parents’ house, no less! Was she that starved for attention from a man that she would so unabashedly throw herself at the first eligible one to so much as glance her way?

  There was an embarrassment that tainted the memories from their dinner that she couldn’t shake, and she knew she was solely to blame for it. Why did she assume Cole would be interested in exploring any sort of relationship other than a strictly professional one? When she brought up the conflict of interest scenario involving her brother, she’d truly overstepped. It felt foolish to think that just because Cole was nice and that they mutually enjoyed one another’s company that anything would progress beyond a short-lived friendship.

  Cole was in California for two months, after which he would go back to Tennessee and continue working at his father’s firm. Sophie would stay in California. Why she felt the need—or desire—to foster any relationship other than one of being mere acquaintances made no sense.

  After wrestling with these thoughts all night long, Sophie rose well before her alarm and shut it off before it had the chance to do its job. Slipping out from under the covers, she swung her legs over the side of the mattress to let her feet dangle. She was due for a pedicure, but always felt embarrassed when she went in for the first one after the long winter season, her feet calloused and neglected. She just wasn’t a manicured sort of woman and likely never would be. While she’d forced her feet into heels the night before, she was much more comfortable in a pair of muck boots or garden shoes. She doubted many men were attracted to that, but she couldn’t help but notice the way Cole had looked at her the night before. There was a spark just behind those glasses, his eyes bright with interest, hanging on each word of their conversation like he truly wanted to gain something from it.

  Maybe that captivated attentiveness had to do with their lines of work. There was obviously quite a bit of overlap there. While Cole’s knowledge of plant life was just as extensive as hers, he appreciated certain varietals for their drought tolerance or reasonable price tag while Sophie cared more about how a particular flower would look when coupled with others in a market bouquet. But still, they understood one another, spoke the same language, and reciprocated an equal passion.

  Of course they would hit it off. It made sense. But it bothered Sophie that she had been so forward, so bold. And she fe
lt stupid for bringing up the whole bit about her brother. There was no need to even mention that. There were so many degrees of separation between Derek and Cole that it didn’t even matter.

  Yawning, Sophie went to her closet to retrieve her bunny slippers and yellow terrycloth bathrobe. She didn’t have plans to go to the farm that morning and instead intended to spend her hours with her journal, going over her last season to gauge if she was on the right track with this new planting. The previous year had been the most prosperous one yet—the true benchmark of her success. If she followed closely to last year’s strategy, she figured she’d be in great shape.

  As Sophie shuffled through the house toward the kitchen, her slippers collected an alarming amount of dust. The home was well past due for a deep cleaning, but with both women working hard to pursue their dreams, household chores often fell by the wayside. Eventually, someone would drag out the vacuum or swipe a rag over the kitchen tile, but having a neat and tidy townhome was not at the top of either woman’s list of priorities.

  But the thought of bringing a man into her home in this current state of disarray had Sophie reaching for the linen closet to pull out the feather duster and spray. It wasn’t like she would invite him to stay long, but she had agreed to let Cole pick her up. Even if he so much as glanced over her shoulder and into the house, he would likely be shocked by what he saw.

  So she set to it, and after a frenzied morning of housework that had completely gotten away from her, Sophie was horrified by what she saw when her gaze caught her reflection in the oval mirror above the piano. Wild hair sprung out in every direction from her head like Medusa’s tangle of snakes. Her mascara, which she hadn’t wiped clean the night before, was smudged all over her eyelids like two black eyes. Now that the house was sufficiently cleaned, Sophie had to get herself cleaned up, too.

  Just as she spun on her heel to retreat to the bathroom, an unexpected knock on the door nearly shot her through the roof. Eyes wild, she searched for the clock on the wall. It read just after eleven, but now that Sophie thought on it, that was the exact time it had showed an hour earlier when she’d glanced at it. Could it be that the hands hadn’t budged at all during the time that had lapsed?

  Another knock on the door—this one louder—had Sophie’s blood pressure rising sky high.

  “Sophie? You in there?” Cole’s low baritone echoed through the door.

  “Oh no. No, no, no.” Like a cat on a Roomba, Sophie spun in disoriented circles. “Just a minute!” she yelled, but she had no real plans for that minute other than to continue to spiral out of control.

  “We did say today, right?” Cole spoke through the slip of space between the door and the frame.

  “Yep! Today!” Sophie hollered. Frantic, she reached into the hall closet and grabbed her winter coat, flipping the hood up and tugging the drawstrings tightly around her face to cover her unruly hair. She swiped at her cheeks with the back of her hand and pulled on the front door handle, not at all surprised to see Cole’s eyes widen briefly before he recovered with all the controlled finesse Sophie lacked in the moment.

  “Hey,” he said, but his voice was an octave higher than usual. “You ready to go?”

  “Oh, yeah,” she said. “Absolutely. Just give me a second.”

  Cole squinted. “Listen, it’s okay if you forgot.”

  “I didn’t forget,” Sophie stammered. “The morning just got away from me. House cleaning and all.”

  Cole peered over the top of Sophie’s head and into the home. “Looks great.”

  “It might, but I don’t.”

  “I didn’t say that at all. You look very…” He paused, proceeding with extreme caution. “Creative.”

  Sophie looked down at her slipper clad feet, at her fuzzy robe cinched around her body and the army green coat she’d thrown over the ridiculous ensemble. She roared out a laugh. “I’m so sorry, Cole. I thought I was keeping an eye on the time, but today is the day the battery decided to give out on the old clock there,” she explained. “In fairness, it’s probably been out a week or more. I’m not big on details, apparently.”

  “And I’m not in a big hurry, so how about this? Why don’t you go take a shower and get ready while I run over to One Fish, Two Fish and order us some take-out. By the time I get back, you should feel like a new woman.” He caught himself. “Not that you need to. I actually like this whole comfort meets extreme warmth vibe you have going on here.”

  “No, you’re right. I do need to feel like a new woman. Or anything other than the hugely embarrassed one I am at the present moment.”

  “No need to be embarrassed, Soph,” Cole said with an intentional wink that sent a jolt of awareness down Sophie’s spine. “I think it’s adorable.”

  It was as though adorable was the only word left in the English language, because it was all Sophie could hear playing in her head throughout her shower. That Cole found any shred of Sophie even the smallest bit attractive was utterly unfathomable, but he sounded so sincere that she had to choose to believe there was honesty intended in his words. Sophie had to chuckle as she remembered the great lengths she’d gone to the night before to make sure her appearance was nothing but professional. And here she was, looking like a cat lady preparing for the storm of the century, and somehow Cole found even that mildly appealing.

  Something was off with this man, that was the only plausible explanation.

  Since her previous outfits had unintentionally missed the mark, Sophie spent little time choosing today’s attire, figuring it made no real difference, anyway. She threw on a loose, scooped neck white t-shirt that read Support Your Local Farmer in cursive across the front and slipped into her favorite boyfriend cut jeans that had holes worn in the knees and fraying pant hems. She was going for comfort, but not quite as much comfort as she had showcased earlier.

  When Cole returned and knocked on the door, Sophie answered it with much less hesitation now that she felt moderately presentable. Plus, her stomach was eager to dive into that lunch. Without meaning to, she’d cleaned all the way through breakfast.

  “I had no idea what to order, so I got a little bit of everything.” Cole held the large plastic to-go bag up by his face and grinned. “Did you know they have a Fairvale Roll? Must be a pretty incredible town if they named a sushi roll after it.”

  “Oh! That one’s my favorite!” She yanked the bag from his grip, then recoiled. “I’ll share though.”

  “It’s all yours. I ordered plenty.”

  Cole wasn’t kidding, he had ordered more than two people could possibly eat in one sitting. In Sophie’s flurry of cleaning, she’d missed the kitchen table, the plates and dishes from a dinner shared between Caroline and Derek the night before still resting on the tabletop. Rather than waste any more time, Cole and Sophie set up their meal on the coffee table. Sophie grabbed a throw pillow from the couch to sit on and tossed another Cole’s direction. He caught it like a football against his stomach and smiled. It was sure easy to hang out with Cole now that Sophie actually gave herself permission to. Almost overnight, he had become a friend and no longer a competitor. That made all the difference in the world.

  Just as she suspected, Cole was a sushi newbie. But rather than order chicken teriyaki, he seized the opportunity to try something new. He’d ordered multiple rolls, nigiri, sashimi—you name it. The coffee table had become a delectable rainbow of fresh fish cuisine.

  Sophie grabbed two pairs of chopsticks from the bag and opened one, snapping the sticks apart with her hands. She passed the other set to Cole.

  “You mind if I grab a fork? Point me in the direction of the cutlery drawer?” he asked, about to stand.

  “You’re going to eat sushi with a fork? That’s almost blasphemous. Sorry, Cole, but you have to use chopsticks to really get the full experience.”

  “And what if I don’t know how to use them?”

  Sophie’s mouth popped open like the very fish on the table. “You’re teasing.”

  “No
, I’m totally serious.”

  For some reason, that took her by complete surprise. Cole seemed like such a capable man. Chopstick holding certainly didn’t seem like something that would throw him for a loop.

  “Hmm.” He frowned as he pulled the sticks from the paper sleeve. “Looks like I only got one anyway.” He shrugged. “Guess I’ll just have to use a fork.”

  “You need to pull them apart, silly.” Sophie waved at him. “Here, give them to me.” Taking the chopsticks from Cole, she split them at the seam and offered them back.

  Cole looked at Sophie like she had just handed him a scrambled Rubik’s cube. He managed to tangle each finger around the two sticks, like he was knitting a detailed sweater pattern.

  Sophie pursed her lips, eyebrows furrowing. It was almost painful to watch him struggle. “Let me guess, you were the kid that needed to use those pencil grippers in order to hold your pencil correctly back in elementary school, right?”

  “Hey, don’t make fun. Those grippers were awesome.”

  “I know they were. I had an entire collection in my pencil box. Took my teachers until third grade to finally figure out I was actually left handed and didn’t just have really terrible penmanship. So I’m not going to make too much fun of you for not getting this whole chopstick thing down.”

  “How very kind of you,” Cole said at the same moment both sticks clattered to the table.

  Rolling her eyes and laughing, Sophie grabbed ahold of Cole’s wrist. She gathered the discarded chopsticks and placed them back into his hand, pulling apart his thumb and index fingers to slide them into the correct holding position. She tried to ignore the pulse she could feel in her wrist and hoped Cole would do the same. So she didn’t have to stretch awkwardly over the coffee table, she got up on her knees and scooted closer.

  “Like this,” she said, working hard to keep her voice steady. She moved her hand over the top of his large one and mimicked the motion of opening and closing the chopsticks in his grip. “Got it?” she asked almost breathlessly. “What do you think?”