the air flows smoothly from my lungs. “This isn’t a date.”
“Fine. It’s not a date. But please have fun. And relax. And believe for a minute that this guy might just like you and that’s perfectly okay.”
My shoulders sag as the kindness of her words sprinkles over my soul. “I love you, Claire.”
“I love you too. Now go have fun on your not-date. And call me after.”
“Goodbye.”
I end the call. Shoving my phone in my bag, I head down the hallway. Doing a quick check of my reflection in the mirror by the door, I wonder if I should’ve worn the green top.
Too late.
My hand wraps around the knob and I tug the door open.
“Hey,” I say, leaning against the doorframe.
“Good evening.”
His eyes twinkle, their blue matching the color of his button-down shirt perfectly. His sleeves are rolled to his elbows, displaying a watch that catches the light above. He’s fresh and perfectly put together in a way that appears to have taken about a minute.
Damn him.
I smooth an imaginary wrinkle out of my shirt, the one I wish with certainty was the green scoop neck. My intentional lack of effort is biting me in the ass. Now I’ll look like the frumpy girl with this gorgeous man, and there’s nothing worse than looking like the girl on a date with a guy totally out of her league.
“I didn’t know we were getting so spiffy for this,” I say.
He chuckles. “Did you just use ‘spiffy’ in a sentence?”
“Yes. You have a problem with that?”
“No, no problem. I just haven’t heard it in dialogue since my grandmother commented on my fifth-grade school pictures.”
“That must’ve been ages ago,” I crack, grabbing my keys off a little table by the door.
“Easy there. You aren’t that much younger than me.”
“You know, the more time I spend with you, the more amazed I am that women fall for you like they do,” I lie. “Are you sure this is a real problem you have?”
He reaches behind me to shut the door. His forearm brushes against my side. It’s like a live wire bites me, sending a ripple of uncontained energy through my veins. If he notices, he doesn’t show it.
“Maybe Penn was right and you’re just a unicorn that’s oblivious to my charm.” He stands straight and smirks. “Nah, just kidding. That’s impossible.”
I sigh, my body still humming from his touch. “This is going to be a long night.”
“Better get it started, then.”
We walk down the sidewalk to his freshly washed truck. I keep a couple of steps behind so I can check him out.
His light-brown hair is combed to the side, angled in a perfect, offset spike. The sandy color matches the leather in the belt wrapped around his trim waist, as well as the boots on his feet.
He carries himself with a confidence I’ve never known but always admired in the rare few I’ve seen who have it. It’s as if the world could be ripping at him from all sides and he wouldn’t even know it. I wonder how people develop that kind of self-assurance.
We reach the truck. He holds the door open for me.
“After you,” he says, waving toward the cab.
“Thank you.”
He waits until I’m settled before closing the door. By the time I’m buckled in, he slides into the seat next to me.
The cab fills with his cologne and mixes with the masculine energy rippling off him in soft waves. Between the two, I’m a little light-headed.
“On a serious note,” he says, starting the engine, “you look very pretty tonight.”
I look down at my shirt. “Thanks. I probably should’ve worn something else, but this will have to do.”
“Why?”
“Why, what?”
“Why should you have worn something else?” He furrows a brow like he’s not able to follow me.
“I just . . . I don’t know,” I admit, feeling slightly foolish.
“Let me give you a little insight into the mind of a man,” he says, twisting to face me. “When a man tells you that you look pretty, he means it. And odds are it has very little to do with your shirt.”
My body warms as I sink into the leather seat and forget all about the green scoop neck. I settle my gaze on the floorboard for a moment so he won’t see me beaming. “Well, in that case, thank you. Again.”
I look up and we exchange a smile. He shifts the truck in gear, and we head down the road.
Dogwood Lane rolls by at a leisurely pace. The pine trees appear