Make Me Yours (Bellamy Creek #2) - Melanie Harlow Page 0,20

armfuls of it and tossing it over my head like glitter.

Cole and I were going out for dinner! Alone! Together! And he’d done the asking!

Not that this was an official first date or anything, but it was something.

It was something.

Five

Cole

For a moment, I stood on the back porch watching her walk away. It struck me then what I’d done—I’d asked her on a date.

Part of me wanted to call out to her, tell her to forget it, apologize for suggesting we go out tonight and explain that I couldn’t go through with it because I didn’t really date. Another part of me thought that was ridiculous. This didn’t have to be a date. It could be two friends going to grab a bite to eat and a beer. Totally casual.

Not that such a thing was possible in this town. If I so much as chatted with a woman at the deli counter at noon, by five o’clock the rumor would be circulating that I was about to propose. Bellamy Creek was a wonderful place, full of old-fashioned traditions and good-hearted people, but the only thing those people loved more than helping their neighbors was spreading rumors about them.

And one of those people was washing dishes at the kitchen sink as I entered the kitchen.

“How was your day?” asked my mother.

“Good.” I took my boots off at the back door as my brother and I had been trained to do our whole lives, so we wouldn’t track snow through the kitchen.

“I made beef barley soup for dinner. Can I get you a bowl?”

“No, thanks. I’m going to go grab a bite in town if that’s okay.”

“Of course, dear. With the boys?” She still referred to my friends as the boys even though we were thirty-three years old.

I cleared my throat. “No, with Cheyenne, actually.”

“Oh.” A pause as she digested this. “She was just here.”

“I know. I saw her outside.” I made my way across the kitchen quickly, hoping to get out of the room without having to discuss it further.

No such luck.

“So is this a date?” she asked.

“Nope, it’s just dinner. She’s been so great with Mariah lately,” I added. “I thought I’d treat her to say thanks.”

“Oh. Well, that’s nice of you.”

I could hear from her tone of voice that she thought there was more to it, but I left the kitchen before she could prod any further.

Before heading upstairs, I poked my head into the living room, where Mariah was watching television. “Hey, you.”

She looked up at me and smiled. “Hi, Daddy.”

“How was school?”

“Good. Did you hear back from Uncle Enzo? Can we go see the new houses?”

“Yep. We have three appointments on Friday.”

Her face lit up. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Are we seeing the one with the doghouse?”

“We sure are.”

“Yay! I’m excited,” she said.

“Me too.” I started up the stairs, then paused. “Hey, is it okay with you if I go out for a little bit tonight?”

“Sure. Where are you going?”

“Just to get something to eat with Miss Cheyenne.”

“Can I come too?” she asked hopefully.

“Not this time, kiddo.”

“Why not?”

I felt guilty trying to come up with a reason. “We just need a little grown-up time.”

“Oh. Okay.” Her disappointment was obvious.

“But we still have our movie date Friday night, don’t we?”

She brightened again. “Yes. Hey, maybe we can invite Miss Cheyenne to come to the movies with us!”

“Maybe,” I said, continuing up the stairs, careful not to commit. People would really start to talk if they saw the three of us at the movies.

Upstairs, I shut the door and took off my uniform, deciding at the last minute to quickly shower and shave.

Back in my room, I pulled some jeans from my drawer, put on a clean T-shirt and underwear, and considered the dress shirts hanging in my closet. Deciding it would be too obvious to choose something blue again, I chose a black button-up this time, taking a moment to roll up the sleeves. I traded my work watch for a nicer one, ran a comb through my hair, and gave in to the temptation to wear a little cologne. I was replacing the bottle on my dresser when the framed wedding photo caught my eye.

I picked it up and looked at it closely, which I hadn’t done in months. Maybe even years. At this point, it was almost just part of the furniture.

What struck me first was how young I looked. No furrow between my brows. No crinkle lines at the corners of my eyes. Nothing but joy and optimism in