in depth? I bet you’re a little more sensitive than you’re letting on, and being that I know a ton about budgets, I could probably make you feel good about everything before the night was said and done.”
“Is that what you tell all the ladies?” I wink.
He laughs. “Touché.”
Despite the way his offer tempts me and causes a flicker of excitement to jump in my belly, sharing a meal with him would be a giant, gorgeous distraction I don’t need.
“I better not. I have a lot of thinking to do,” I say. “As a matter of fact, I’m canceling on Claire tonight too. I just need to be alone for a while.”
“Fair enough. But if you ever want to talk budgets, I’m your guy. Or if you want to go over ways to feel good . . .”
I laugh, rolling my eyes at his invitation. “I’m good. Thanks. I took some college classes in accounting, so I get it. Budgets are budgets.”
“You’re a math geek like me?”
“No,” I scoff. “I just took some general classes. Dad is an accountant, so I had a built-in tutor.”
“You were almost perfect.”
“I’ve heard that a time or two. Thanks for the offer, though.”
“Yeah. Sure.” He cocks his head to the side. “What do you think you’ll do from here?”
“Heck if I know. That’s why I said I have a lot of thinking to do. The world is my oyster, even though I don’t really understand that analogy.”
He smiles brightly. “Well, if you’ve read The Merry Wives of Windsor, Shakespeare uses it to mean taking what you want by force or violence.”
“And how did you know that?”
He laughs, pointing at himself. “Nerd. Remember?”
He gazes into the distance. I gaze at him. There’s something even sexier about him now, something I can’t quite shake.
Something that completely and utterly rules out me going anywhere alone with him right now.
“You’re staring again.”
I jump at his voice. “I wasn’t staring,” I lie. “I was thinking about something else.”
“Oh, I’m sure you were.”
“Actually,” I say, thinking on my feet, “I was pondering this new chapter in my life.”
He glances in his rearview mirror. A car pulls into the parking lot but takes a spot behind him. He turns his attention back to me and studies me for a long time, the weight of his attention on me almost cozy.
“What’s your biggest dream?” he asks out of nowhere.
“I don’t know. What’s yours?”
His forehead creases as he pops his bottom lip between his teeth. He works it back and forth for a minute. “I think I’m living it. As lame as that sounds.”
“Why?” I press.
“I’m my own boss, more or less. I deal with numbers all day. I work with my brother. Sometimes I get to go outside and play in the dirt.” He grins an easy, simple-yet-heated smile that turns my core into mush. “Sometimes I run into beautiful women who refuse to have dinner with me. Now your turn.”
I swallow, trying to wrangle my wits from his grasp. “I’m not sure, to be honest. But you know what? I do need to go.”
There’s a cloud that passes over his eyes. It dims the sparkle only for a moment, but it’s long enough for me to notice.
My stomach flops, wishing I could climb into his truck and continue this conversation. But what’s the point in that?
“Fine,” he teases, the light back in his eyes again. “Your loss.”
Probably so.
I smack his arm, my palm connecting with his wrist. A giggle escapes my lips but gently rolls away as our eyes meet.
My hand drops to my side, still warm from the contact. I clear my throat.
“So,” he says, clearing his, too, “when I rolled in, I saw a sign for the Dogwood Inn. Is that open?”
“Yeah. It’s open most of the year. I bet you can find a room. Just plan on 1980s decor. It’s way old school in there.”
His eyes go wide. “What are my other options?”
“Drive about twenty minutes back the way you came into town and stay there.” I shrug. “We have one place here. Just be glad it’s not hunting season. You’d be out of luck.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.” I open my door and stick my keys in the ignition. “If you stay in town, just remember that everything closes before ten o’clock. If you need food or whatever, grab it while you can. And,” I say, getting into my car, “if Lorene offers you a slice of pie, take it.”
He puts his truck in drive. “Is that an innuendo?”