A Walk Along the Beach by Debbie Macomber Page 0,18
awaiting her response before I realized I asked her not to give me one.
Sucking in a breath, I charged forward. “I like you, Willa, and I’d enjoy getting to know you better.” I brushed my wet hair off my forehead. “You should know I don’t drink coffee. I don’t like the taste. The only reason I stop by Bean There is for the chance to see you.”
Her dark eyes widened as if my words had offended her. I probably shouldn’t have admitted that.
“Don’t get me wrong. You make good coffee; it just so happens that I’m not a coffee drinker. I felt I had to justify coming in every day. I add cream to make it tolerable.” Seeing that Starbucks was one of my major accounts, I felt the need to add, “If you ever have the opportunity, promise me you won’t let the folks at Starbucks know that.”
“Ah…”
“That’s beside the point.” Already I was screwing this up. “What I’m doing a piss-poor job of saying is that if you’re agreeable I’d like to date you. We can go out to eat, take in a show, take a walk along the beach. I’m willing to do anything you want.”
She continued to stare at me with her mouth half open as if she didn’t know what to say.
Finally I couldn’t stand it any longer. “Say something,” I urged.
It appeared she had no words.
“If you’re not interested, tell me.” She should know her silence was deflating my ego. And physically I was already all wet.
“Okay,” she said.
A single word, and it was as if someone had resuscitated me back to life. “Okay you’ll say something, or okay you’re willing to go out with me?”
“Both, I guess.”
“You will?” I had to be sure I understood correctly.
She nodded.
“Good.” Nervous as I was, I left her and walked all the way to the end of the aisle before I realized that I’d abandoned her. Doing an abrupt about-face, I hurried back to her. “When would you like to start?”
“I…anytime,” she said. She seemed to have gone pale. “I wouldn’t be able to stay out late, though. Three-thirty comes early.”
“You get up at three-thirty?” That seemed unbelievable. “What time do you go to bed?”
Lowering her gaze, Willa gave the impression that if she said too early, I’d have a change of heart. I needed to correct that impression.
“It doesn’t matter—nothing does, as long as you’re willing to go on a date with me.” I was convinced the pleading in my voice destroyed my man card.
“Lights are off around nine.” She sounded unsure, as if her hours remained a deal-breaker.
I did the math in my head. “Is that enough sleep?”
“I can stay out later if you want.”
“No need,” I rushed to assure her. “I’m willing to take whatever time you give me. I’ll get up at three-thirty, too, if that helps.”
Willa smiled. The only thing I could equate her smile to was watching the sun rise, spilling light over the Olympic Mountains. I’d managed to capture that shot in one of the several magazine covers I’d had over the years. The photo, which I considered my best to date, took my breath away once the film was developed. I swear I stared at it for a good fifteen minutes, unable to tear my eyes off the image I’d captured.
The same feeling flowed over me with Willa’s smile. “Is tomorrow too soon?” I asked, calmer now, my heart returning to an acceptable beat. From the way it had pounded earlier, I should have been light-headed.
“Tomorrow would be perfect.”
“What would you like to do?” I was game for anything, as long as it was with Willa.
She met my gaze. “Would you mind a walk along the beach?” she asked.
A walk along the beach. “That sounds perfect.”
I would have gladly taken her to the priciest restaurant in the state, had she asked. This was Willa, though. Nothing fancy. Nothing out of the ordinary. A simple walk along the beach. If I wasn’t half in love with her already, this simple request would have done it.
CHAPTER 7
Willa
I arrived home, bubbling with excitement, eager to tell Harper about running into Sean. I flew in and nearly tripped over the rug in my eagerness. My shoulders deflated when I found her in her room, fast asleep. Snowball was nowhere in sight. Careful to keep the screen door closed as I traipsed back and forth hauling grocery bags into the apartment, I kept an eye out for my sister’s kitten.