you’re okay with that.”
I roll my eyes at him. “I’m fine with chilly weather. I live in Ohio, don’t I?”
“Ah, yes, you do. But as I recall, you once told me how much you hate snow. I’m assuming that includes the cold.”
Ah, so he does remember what I said that night in the theatre.
Smiling, I tell him, “You are absolutely right about me hating snow and being cold. That’s why I plan to check the forecast religiously before we go. I’m going to make sure it’s A-okay for a day trip.”
That makes Lars laugh. “I’m sure you’ll do that, Becca. I’m sure you will.”
He already knows me so well.
Eek, that’s a little scary.
But I’m not running.
Road Trip
Becca and I pick a day for our Niagara Falls adventure. She’s calling it that now, and I’m happy to go along with it.
I hope it is an adventure, a great one.
We end up choosing the last Friday in March. She’s not working at the consultant shop that day, and hell, I can take time off from working out anytime I want.
Becca, as I knew she would, checks the weather faithfully in the days leading up to our trip.
All is good, meaning there’s no snow in the forecast and no frigid cold.
With the plan on, I pick her up early Friday morning at her house.
As she hops into the Navigator, she asks, “You have your passport, right?”
I reply, “I sure do.”
“Good.” She nods approvingly. “We’re still in great shape with the weather too. There could be some light rain showers off and on, but the temperature is supposed to hover in the low fifties.”
Laughing, I say, “Thank you for that weather report. Do you have a traffic update too?”
“Ha, ha, Lars. You’re so funny.”
She smacks my arm as I place the car in gear.
“Seriously, though,” I go on, “that sounds great. It won’t be freezing cold or pouring snow. And”—I nod down to the jeans, hiking boots, dark long-sleeved tee, and olive green rain jacket I’m wearing—“I came prepared for rain.”
“I did too,” Becca says, smiling as she gestures to her own attire.
After I turn around in her long driveway, I stop the vehicle and take a look.
She is indeed ready for rain, having on pretty much the same style of clothes I have on: a rain jacket—though hers is black, not green—hiking boots, a long-sleeved tee, and jeans.
Her jeans are of the skinny variety, and I can’t help but notice how they accentuate her curves in a way that makes me have to look away.
If Becca catches me, she’ll see the want and longing in my eyes.
I’m trying to play it cool, be her “friend.”
Oh, hell.
“We better get going.” I blow out a breath as I hit the gas. “We have a long drive ahead of us.”
I’m worried that trying not to think dirty thoughts about Becca when she’s sitting this close to me for the next five hours may prove a challenge. I’ve already had one lusty thought and we’re only just now heading away from her house.
I’ve been so good lately too, keeping my innuendo and flirting to a minimum.
You can do this, I remind myself.
I can.
I got this.
I so very much do.
As we travel through the state of Ohio, I keep our conversation strictly platonic.
Becca does too.
She tells me more details about her life growing up in Columbus. And I share info with her about my younger years in Florida.
“I had a lot of friends in the neighborhood I grew up in. That made it really easy to put together ragtag football games with me and my brothers. We did that pretty much all the time.”
“No wonder you’re so good,” Becca remarks.
I smile over at her before returning my eyes to the road. “Thanks for saying that.”
“It’s true, Lars. Watching all those highlights and games from the end of the Comets season last year showed me one thing.”
I’m curious, so I ask, “Yeah? What’s that?”
“It proves you weren’t the problem with the team.”
“No.” I blow out a breath. “I guess not. I played pretty well as an individual. But, as you know, it takes a whole team to win. Sadly, our defense was consistently weak, and the quarterback we had for most of the season was absolutely horrible.”
Becca sighs. “Yeah, I heard about him. He was a real jerk and kind of a nut.”
I chuckle. “That’s putting it mildly.”
“Good thing he’s gone, yeah?”
“Yeah, good thing.”
I shake my head, thinking of the details of the sordid quarterback mess. It’s a long