“I don’t know much about datin’, Ginger. But yes,” he said, nodding his head, “you could call it that, I guess.”
“I’m more curious about what you’d call it,” she said, lowering her chin and raising her eyebrows.
Sassy. His heart thundered. His balls tightened. Damn.
He nailed her with his eyes, unable to keep his lips from twitching into a grin. He rubbed his bottom lip with his thumb, staring at her—staring at her the way he would if she was naked on his bed and he had all night long.
“I’d call it a date,” he finally said, his voice gravel.
“Oh,” she murmured, blinking at him. “Huh. I wasn’t, um, I wasn’t . . .”
Shit. Was she turning him down? Oh, fuck. He’d read this situation for shit, and then some.
“You know what? Just, uh, just forget it,” he said, taking a deep breath and trying to hold back the overwhelming wave of disappointment that threatened to flatten him where he stood.
“No, thanks.”
“Right.”
His neck bent forward until he stared at the floor, blinking, wondering where he’d gone so wrong. He’d thought . . . fuck, he’d sort of thought that maybe she was into him too. But he must have misunderstood. She wasn’t interested in him. She just wanted his friendship or comfort or—
“No, thanks. I don’t want to forget it,” she said softly. “I’d . . .”
He jerked his head up, his eyes locking with hers as he held his breath.
“I’d like to go out to dinner with you on Friday. I’d like to go on a date with you, Cain.”
“Oh, yeah?” he asked, exhaling in a rush and running his hand through his bristly hair. He felt his lips tilt up into a relieved smile. “You would?”
She nodded, answering his grin with a sweet one of her own. “I would.”
His chest tightened, aching a little because she looked so clean and soft and pretty standing there behind his desk . . . and because she’d said yes, when he truly thought she was saying no. He held her eyes, smiling at her, wondering if this was how Woodman had felt around Ginger, and understanding—really understanding—why Woodman had staked a claim so long ago and clung to it so fiercely.
She licked her lips and raked her teeth across her bottom lip, staring back at him, a goofy smile covering her face and making her eyes sparkle.
Oh, my heart, princess. I ain’t never given it to anyone before, but it’s yours now. It’s all yours.
“All right then.” He gulped. “I guess I’ll see you Friday.”
“It’s a date,” she said, giggling softly, like she couldn’t believe it. She picked up her purse and walked around the desk, stopping beside Cain to lean up on tiptoe and press her sweet lips to his cheek. “Good night, Cain.”
He froze in place, his breath held, his body taut and still. He listened as she passed by him and walked away, heard her car engine start and the sound of her wheels turning out of his driveway. The office still smelled lightly of lemons, his cheek burned like she’d branded him with a poker . . .
. . . and Friday was three long days away.
Chapter 30
On Friday Ginger arrived at Cain’s place at noon in a pair of jeans, a long-sleeved T-shirt, and sneakers, but out in her Jeep she’d left a black scoop-neck blouse and black boots. As she had on Tuesday, she spent most of the day alone, in the little office, answering the phone and making coffee for the folks waiting on Cain to service their motorcycles. She chatted with many of them as they sat in the guest chairs waiting for him to come and tell them the work was done or how much more time he’d need, and found she enjoyed the company and good-natured small talk. But what she loved the most was that whenever Cain came into the office, he’d cut his eyes to her first, right away, and she came to long for those intimate nanomoments, which quickly became the peak of her whole day.
She’d talked to Gran about Cain after work yesterday, sharing that they had a date set for after work on Friday, and Gran had seemed pleased as punch. Ginger would be just as excited as Gran if an idea stuck in the back of her head wasn’t bothering her so much.
Were she and Cain only bound by grief?
Like most relationships that started under pressure, she worried that it wouldn’t end well in