“I’m still not convinced.” I prop my chin on my balled up fist playfully batting my eyes at him.
He gives me a mischievous grin. “Why are we assuming I’d be the serial killer in this scenario? I am all for women succeeding in male-dominated fields. You’re the local that knows where we are. If anything, you’d be the serial killerleading the sweet, gullible—but pretty—tourist to his demise. I’m the one who needs convincing.”
I tap my finger to my lips like I’m considering his ludicrous idea. “Interesting. How do you suppose we cross this horrible impasse?”
The smile on his face is kind, and he flashes those disarming dimples. With looks like his, he could definitely lure me to my demise. “I guess we’ll just have to trust each other.”
I nod, smirking at him. “I guess we’ll have to.” I point up the street, yawning and bringing my fist to my mouth. “Just another block to go.”
After losingtrack of time with no sign of Agnes, we decided to call it a night. Honestly, I don’t even think we really looked for her. We walked along the path by the creek telling stories about growing up in small towns or talking about our favorite junk food and snacks. There’s something endearing about an accomplished chef that insists children’s cereal is his favorite breakfast.
As we’re heading back toward my apartment, my phone pings in my pocket. I pull it out to read the message.
Monica: The apartment is all yours. Make bad decisions. ;) See you in the morning.
I shake my head and tuck the phone away.
“Everything alright?”
“Yeah, just Monica checking in.”
“You two seem close,” he says, walking beside me on the sidewalk. I’ve noticed how much he’s shortened his stride so I don’t have to hurry to keep up with him. He’s kept himself between me and the street, carefully maneuvering us around puddles more than a few times.
“We’ve known each other practically since we were born. Our grandmas were best friends and now so are we. We’ve also been roommates for years now too. I’m lucky to have her.”
I look up from the sidewalk and feel just the slightest bit of disappointment when I see the back of Cowgirl Coffee across the street. I know I just met this guy, but this is the most fun I’ve had with someone besides Monica in a long time. A very neglected part of me does not want this night to end.
He notices that I’ve stopped walking and faces me. “Hey. What’s up?”
I hitch my thumb over my shoulder toward the coffee shop.
“That’s my place over there.”
He nods. “Ah. Got it.”
I’m not one to fawn over men, but a small part of me is relieved when I see his shoulders sag as my words sink in. Maybe I’m not the only one that doesn’t want this night to end. Another moment passes and neither of us move from our spot on the corner of the sidewalk.
“Thanks for showing me around. I’m looking forward to seeing more of town.” His lips tilt in a nervous smile. This hot man—of all people—is nervous around me? I don’t know why, but that does something to me, low in my stomach.
“And I’m sure you’ll see me around.”
“I’d like that… as long as Agnes doesn’t find me first.”
I huff a laugh and roll my eyes. “You’re a dork.”
He shrugs. “Never said I wasn’t.”
He takes one step toward me, leaving what feels like only inches between us. His eyes drop to mine and search my face. I feel his heated gaze on my skin and I don’t know where to look. Instead, I just take all of him in, admiring how the soft moonlight plays across the striking features of hisface. Or how those blue eyes widen even more when my lips part.
Suddenly, I’m craving the way he watches me. The way he wants to be near me. He’s the one that came and sat next to me. He’s the one that wanted to spend his evening walking around my hometown, with me.
I haven’t laughed or smiled this much in ages and something about him just feels different. He’s been nothing but a gentleman all night. Not once has he made some creepy pass at me or even hinted that he’s trying to pick me up. The only sign that he’s remotely interested in me has been those soft, kind eyes and that blinding smile he wields so effortlessly, constantly directing both of them at me for some reason that still baffles me.
When our eyes meet again, I wish he would end my agony of what if and lean down to kiss me. I’m just so lost in his eyes and that damn smile, like I can’t even think straight around him. That terrifying, little notion is enough to make the sensible part of me, with better judgement, take back over.
“Yeah, so I should get going.” I laugh nervously and turn away from him to start crossing the street. The flash of headlights and the sound of a car horn blare. I don’t even have time to react to the car, or process my impending demise, before a big, calmingly strong hand grabs my wrist and his other arm wraps around my waist. Sutton snatches me right out the street and lifts me back up onto the sidewalk, holding me to his chest.
My heart pounds so hard I can hear it. Or maybe that’s his heart I’m hearing with my head pressed tightly to his warm, firm body. I lean into his embrace, staying tight to his chest. I relish in the feeling of his soft, worn flannel shirt against my heated cheeks. I take deep breaths, trying to calm myself down. Each breath is filled with a delicious, masculine scent of charred wood and cooking spices. My breathing slows, butit’s the soothing pressure of his hand splayed across my back and his deep voice that finally settle my nerves.