by Cindi Madsen
“Yeah. I almost didn’t reply, because he doesn’t look like my type, but he messaged me twice, and when I looked at his profile, we did have a lot in common—we both went to The University of Georgia, we’re obsessed with the same TV shows, and he doesn’t have a cat, but he’s crazy about his dog. Anyway, we got to chatting online, and he makes me actually laugh out loud, which is something I hardly ever do, despite how often I type ‘LOL.’”
Curiosity peaked, I leaned in. “So you went to the park to meet him?”
Abigail nodded so enthusiastically her glasses slipped down her nose, and she had to push them back into place. “He noticed all of the flower pictures I put on Instagram, so we met at the botanical gardens. Since I was so focused on answering his questions about the different types of flowers, I forgot to be nervous. Then I realized I’d talked way too much, and awkwardly apologized for hogging the conversation, but he told me he could listen to me all day.”
A smile curved her lips, the warmth of it echoing through me. “But after that I employed your tips and asked him questions about himself. He’s part owner in the moving company he runs with his dad and brother, his eyes light up when he talks about his dog, and halfway through the gardens, he reached over and grabbed my hand.” Her voice pitched up on the end, and she bit her lip as she drifted off into dreamyville. “I like him so much.”
Her excitement and happiness transferred to me. “I’m so glad to hear that your date with him went so well. And go you for getting right back out there after a meh date.”
Of course my concern had to rear its ugly head and take a bite out of my happy mood. I didn’t want some burly dude crushing sweet, sensitive Abigail. I only caught a brief glimpse of his picture, but with those rugged looks, he had possible player potential. Since a Mafia-type, you-hurt-her, I-hurt-you sit down might be going too far, I planned to dig into his profile tonight and vet him the best I could.
At least he looked at her hobbies and picked a location he knew she’d love. That shows promise, as well as suggests he’s looking for more than a hook up. That thought, combined with the comment he’d made about listening to her talk all day, helped tip the mood scale back to optimistic.
“I almost called him yesterday,” Abigail said, her eyes bulging in a way I thought was only possible on cartoons before now. “And this morning. But I’m trying to play it cool. You said three days, right?”
Worry clouded her expression and she bit her thumbnail. “He should’ve texted or messaged me back by now if he had a good time, though, right? What if I did or said something I shouldn’t, and I didn’t even realize it?”
I placed my hand over hers. “I’m sure you did great. Let’s talk about dos and don’ts, boundaries, and that kind of thing, though.” I pulled out one of my dating packets and combed through it with her, stopping to highlight points I thought she might need more than the others, and to answer her questions.
Our hour was almost up when the door to the coffee shop opened, and I automatically glanced toward it. My breath caught in my throat as Linc stepped inside. I thought he’d glance my way and I could smile and wave, but he strode straight for the counter, newspaper tucked under his arm.
I bet he’s filling out the crossword puzzle. A pang of longing echoed through my chest. How could he fill it in without me?
Maybe “I miss you” was too needy, but it was okay to miss a friend, and I wanted nothing more than to be doing that puzzle with him, laughing and making jokes. Hell, I’d settle for a simple hello at this point.
“I’m so sorry,” I said to Abigail. “Can you give me just a minute?” I pushed the packet toward her. “Study that and I’ll be right back. I’ll grab you a drink, too. Latte, right?”
“That’d be awesome.” Abigail lifted the packet, her lips moving as she began to read, and I walked toward Linc, each step tightening the band around my lungs that much more.
For a moment I remained in limbo, not sure whether to just say “hi” or touch his arm or shoulder, which was stupid, because I knew how to talk to guys. In theory.
Finally I went for the arm touch. He turned, and I noticed the earbuds leading to the phone in his pocket. No wonder he hadn’t heard me approach. Now that he saw me, though, he didn’t exactly look excited.
He tugged out one of the earbuds—apparently I only merited half his attention. Frustration bubbled under the surface, but I pushed through, determined to get back our easy, joking vibe.
“How’s the crossword puzzle today? You know, you never did tell me what the answer for Parisian gal pal was, and the suspense is killing me.”
“A-m-i-e,” he said, completely factual and emotionless.
“Really?” I scratched the back of my neck, then dropped my hand when I realized I was giving off such nervous body language. “That seems…disappointing.”
“And you waited all this time, too.” He cracked half a smile, and even though it didn’t hold the same power as his full smile, my pulse still kicked up a notch.
“I never got a chance to really talk to you the other night at Azure. It’s just that…” That I should’ve known how to finish this sentence before I started it.
“You blew me off for a week,” he said. “I got the message. You don’t have to try to break it to me easy, or tell me that you’re too busy to hang out all over again.”
“No, I didn’t—” At his eyebrow raise, I knew I couldn’t completely deny it. “I’ve had a lot on my mind lately.” Like you and me, and how exactly we should fit into each other’s lives. “And I have been busy with work, I swear. You saw how crazy it was the other night.”
“Mm-hm,” was his only response, and yet it held a whole lot of tone I didn’t like.
We reached the front of the line, so Linc ordered and then turned to me, arching his eyebrows in a silent question.
“Don’t worry about me,” I said, waving off the offer. “I’m grabbing one for my client as well, so I’ll just wait and order after you.”
He tugged my elbow, pulling me right in front of the cashier. “Just order already.”
I crossed my arms. “You’re really bossy, you know that.”
“Yes. Now…”He tipped his head toward the cashier, a challenge in those blue eyes.
With a sigh, I ordered two lattes, and thanked Linc when he paid for them. As we waited for the barista, I leaned against the counter. Linc had crashed back into my life in this very spot, and while so much had changed, in a lot of ways, nothing had. I wanted to be strong. Wanted to show him how okay I was.
But I didn’t feel okay without our hangouts anymore, and I decided to accept it instead of fight it. “So, do you know any events going on this week? My list is coming along, but I’d like to check out a few more places.”
Linc tapped the paper under his arm. “I’ll look through this and let you know.” One corner of his mouth tilted up, and the wicked slant put my defenses on high alert. “If you’ll answer my texts, instead of playing it cool for three hours before replying that you’re too busy.”
My mouth dropped. “I was busy.”
Linc shrugged, the perfect image of nonchalance. The guy seriously drove me crazy. Why I wanted to hang out with him, I had no idea.
The barista slid three coffee cups our way, and I grabbed Abigail’s and mine. Of course they all had Linc’s name scrawled on them, which meant I’d get to re-question my sanity every time I took a sip.
“Thanks again for the coffee, but I better get back to my client,” I said, indicating Abigail. “She’s had a bit of a rough time with guys in the past, but sometimes a heartbreak shakes you awake and helps you see that you’re worth more than what you were settling for.”
Linc shot me a sidelong glance. “Tell me the truth. Do you eat motivational affirmations for breakfast so you can regurgitate them at a moment’s notice?”
I elbowed him in the side, satisfaction going through me at his grunt. “No, I put them in my brain by studying. You remember studying, right?”
“I remember pretending to study at your place because you always ordered a ton of Chinese food for cram sessions.” His eyes lit up. “I know. Tonight I’m coming over to your place for Chinese food, just like old times. I’ll pick it up on my way from the baseball camp and be at your place around six.”
“I…”
“What? Have plans? You’re”—he made air quotes, the right side sloppier because of the coffee cup in his hand—“busy?”
“Would that really be so unbelievable?”
“No. But I guarantee you’ll have a better time with me. So cancel whatever plans you’re going to pretend to have, because you and I are having dinner together.”
“See,” I said, tilting my coffee cup toward him. “Bossy.”
He grinned like I’d given him a huge compliment. “Later, Gamble.”
You’d think his using my last name would make it sound more like I was on his ball team, and less like he was promising a night of sexy fun.
It didn’t.
Which was why having him alone in my loft with no “research” activity to turn to when I started thinking thoughts about his body that I shouldn’t was a very bad idea.
And yet, the internal clock in my head went off, counting down the minutes until I’d get to see him again.
Chapter Nineteen
By the time Linc arrived at my loft, I’d been trying to get Aunt Velma out the door for twenty minutes. She’d dropped by to go over last-minute details for the party on Friday, which only took about ten minutes. The rest of the hour had been spent prying into my dating life and critiquing everything from my decorating to cooking skills. (Couldn’t I at least spruce the place up with some fresh flowers? Why had I chosen blue for the kitchen? Did I even know how to bake a pie from scratch? What about biscuits? Many a southern gentleman had been won over by a woman’s biscuits.)
It took every ounce of my self-control to not turn that last one into an innuendo.
Don’t get her started on my “holey jeans,” either—they were distressed, designer, and happened to be in-style right now, but she didn’t know “what was so wrong with a nice dress to impress.”
I didn’t bother telling her I’d worn a dress more often than not this week, because again, I’d been trying to nudge her toward the door, and the fastest way to get her to stop giving me advice was to nod and agree—at one point I think I even agreed to go shopping for a “proper couch” with her.
With every minute closer to six, my blood pressure rose that much higher, and I cursed myself for not claiming I needed to meet someone somewhere else, so I could leave and she’d be forced to go. Then I could’ve doubled back.
But it was too late for should’ves and could’ves. All I could do now was introduce her to the guy who’d shown up at my door. “Lincoln, this is my aunt Velma, who was just on her way out. Aunt Velma, this is Ivy’s cousin, Lincoln Wells.”
In other words, don’t turn this into a big deal or get ideas about us dating.
“Ma’am,” he said, adding a polite nod and shifting the plastic bags in his hands so he could free one up and shake hers.
Aunt Velma scrutinized him, but she didn’t say anything about his jeans. Instead she brought out her debutante smile, and I instinctively knew I wouldn’t like the next words out of her mouth. “How nice to meet you, Lincoln.”
Okay, that wasn’t so bad.
“Savannah, you should bring Lincoln to the party on Friday.”
And there it is. I shot Linc an apologetic glance over her shoulder. “I’m sure he’s busy. He probably has to work.”
“I don’t, actually,” Linc said, not helping my cause at all. “And if there’s a party—”
“It’s my parents’ anniversary. There will just be a lot of old people there.”
Aunt Velma gasped. “Savannah Grace Gamble! I am not old, and there will be people of all ages.”
“Sorry, Aunt Velma. Of course you’re not old.” I gave her a quick hug and managed to turn her toward the open doorway in the process. “Good-bye. See you on Friday.”
As I was closing the door, she rattled off the time and address. My cheeks needed a couple of extra seconds to cool down, so I took a deep breath before slowly spinning around. “Sorry about that. My family has boundary issues.” I gestured toward the couch. “Have a seat.”
The scent of garlic and spices made my stomach rumble. Linc pulled out white and red boxes and spread them on my coffee table. I sat next to him and he held out a plastic fork and paper-wrapped chopsticks, and it did feel just like old times. Except for the lack of stacked college books and stress of upcoming tests, praise the Lord.
I took the chopsticks, and he raised that one eyebrow.
“How do you do that?” I asked.
“Pick a fork over chopsticks? Well you see, a fork’s much easier to eat with, although I do like watching you struggle with chopsticks.”
“One, I was talking about raising your eyebrow without the other one automatically coming along for the ride. And two, I do not struggle. I prefer to work for every bite.”
A snarky smile spread across his lips. “Let me guess, you have a motivational quote about how struggling makes you grow stronger.”
I lifted my chin. “I have a ton, but now you don’t get to hear them.”
He snapped his fingers. “Damn. You really showed me.” His smile widened, and he handed me a box of chicken lo mein.
Aw, he remembers what I like.
Wait. No aw-ing over him. Unless it’s a friendly type aw. Which mine totally was.
Linc scooped fried rice into the box of sweet and sour pork and leaned back, his knee resting against my thigh, and there was nothing friendly about the somersault my stomach performed.
We ate a couple of bites and then he randomly said, “Control.”
When he didn’t expand, I swallowed and stabbed my chopsticks into my noodles. “What?”
“That’s how I raise an eyebrow. You just have to tell it to do it. Go on. Try it.”
“No. You’ll mock me.” Already I regretted admitting that I’d noticed the gesture, because it felt like admitting to more.
“Lower them both,” he said.
“You’re doing the bossy thing again. I’m going to show you that it doesn’t work on me.” I retrieved my chopsticks, but he continued to stare, and then each bite became a practice in not showing my self-consciousness. “How was the baseball camp today?”
“Fun. I can see the kids progressing, which is cool.” He propped his elbow on the back of the couch, fully turning to face me. “Not going to give up this eyebrow discussion, though, no matter what you ask me.”
Refusing to give in, I focused on my food. At the halfway mark, I glanced at his box.
“Switch?” he asked, extending the sweet and sour pork to me.
“Switch.” If we were keeping up the college tradition, we’d switch again once we got about a fourth of the way to the bottom, so we could finish with our favorites. But this way we never had to decide on only one dish.
We made small talk. My job. His two jobs. I dug to see if he’d confess the other job he was working on, but he replied with a cryptic, “All will be revealed in time.”
“Now that you’ve got your eyebrows lowered,” he said, pointing his fork at my perplexed expression, “try to only lift one. I can do both, but my right one’s easier and often pops up on its own.”
Oh, I knew all about that damn right eyebrow. Since he obviously wasn’t going to give up, I sighed and gave it a try. “Am I doing it?”
“Looking overly surprised on one side? Yes.”
I smacked his arm and he laughed.
“Here.” He took my box of food and set it and his down on the table. Then he leaned in and put his thumb on my eyebrow.
“This feels very odd,” I said as he pushed my eyebrow higher.
“Now, just…” He dropped his thumb and frowned. “It didn’t stay.”
He tried to help me by demonstrating, arching the ri
ght and then switching and lifting the left—it didn’t look as natural, which made me laugh. I tried first my right, and when that didn’t work, my left, and pretty soon, we both got the giggles.
“What can I say? My eyebrows like to present a united front.” I lifted the box of sweet and sour pork and handed it to him, and then took up my lo mein.
I ate all I could and set the box aside. Linc finished off his food, and the plastic bag crinkled as he dug out the fortune cookies. With two in each open palm, he extended them to me.
I hovered my hand over one before moving to another, but I couldn’t quite commit.
“I forgot how crazy you get about fortune cookies,” Linc said, shaking his head.
I told him the same, slightly overdramatic thing I did in college whenever he teased me about taking forever to choose a cookie. “It’s an important decision. My very future depends on it.”
“I thought you said that the easiest way to predict the future was to create it.”
Honestly, I was impressed that he remembered one of the inspirational affirmations he liked to mock me for, but now was no time for logic. “Shh. Stop trying to distract me from picking the best one so that you can have it for yourself.”
Last minute I changed my mind and went for the closest cookie. Seemed like that one was meant to be mine, right?
Linc held on to the one in the hand I’d picked from and tossed the other two aside. We tore open the plastic at the same time. The broken edges of the cookie dug into my palm when I split it. I threw the top half in my mouth and pulled out the white slip of paper.
“Let’s hear it,” Linc said.
“The weather is wonderful.” I frowned at the red letters. “Really? That’s not even a fortune, just an opinion.”
One corner of Linc’s mouth quirked up, and for only half a smile, he managed to pack a whole lot of teasing in there. “Maybe you’re just so filled up on your positive affirmations that the cookie cracked under the pressure.”
“Ha-ha. Read yours.”
Linc lifted the paper strip that came in his cookie and cleared his throat. “The greatest risk is not taking one.”