She giggles, and I want to inhale her laughter. Mouth to mouth. Lip to lip. But the next time I give kissing the lady a go, it won’t be within range of her meddling little sis’s eye. Besides, this thing between us is in its infancy. No need to rush.
“So, Knox—”
“I have a question, Everly.”
I flip my palm up. “Ladies first.”
She scuffs her hands along her sleeves as if to generate warmth. “That call I got, from my new boss? There’s a company Christmas party next Saturday night. He strongly suggested I attend and begin meeting people. So…I was wondering…” Her teeth sink into her luscious lower lip.
I tip my head to the side. “Are you asking me on a date, Everly Anne?”
Her eyes widen, presumably because I’ve picked up her middle name over the course of the afternoon. “What if I am?”
“Are you?”
“Knox!” She bats at my chest. I snag the offending hand and draw her in, which may be a tactical error since I decided against kissing her tonight.
With Everly, I constantly feel a smile on my face. I hold our clasped hands between us and gravel my voice. “Yes, I will be your date, Everly.”
She clasps her hands, and the sheer pleasure my acceptance gives her cheers me to the core. I can’t wait to have her on my arm for an entire evening.
She launches into details. Seven o’clock, a Dallas hotel, fancy. Her hand flies to her mouth. “Oh no.”
“What?”
“Do you have a suit?” She waves her hand. “You know what? Don’t worry about Saturday—”
“I have a suit, Everly.”
“But isn’t it back in Kansas City? Please don’t go buy one on my account.” She chews her lip.
Most of my suits are, yes, but I always keep a couple on hand for the impromptu business meetings Rand tends to drop on me. I place my hands on her shoulders and turn her toward the door. “Let me worry about my wardrobe. You get inside and get warm.”
Chapter 17
Everly
To call or not to call.
Text, maybe?
Grr. This is why dating stinks. Seriously. Ask a man on a date and then he ghosts you.
“That’s a mighty big sigh, young lady.” Marlene clips an order on the old-style wheel Charlie still uses. He clings to outdated ways when a modernized computer system would be ten times more efficient.
I lean my hip to the stainless counter under the window. “Marlene, you date a lot.”
She laughs. Hard.
Right. Okay. I sigh again, and she lifts a painted-on eyebrow. I’m at the feet of the dating master, so here goes nothing. “I invited Knox to a Christmas party on Saturday. He said yes, but now it’s been four days and I haven’t heard a word from him. I texted once, but he never answered.”
“Ooo, honey. I’m so happy the two of you are dating.” She shimmies her shoulders as if my tale were a juicy piece of prime rib.
“I think you’re missing the point. This isn’t good news. Knox is ghosting me.” I slam my arms over my chest. “Now what am I supposed to do? I need a date for Saturday.” The passel of hurt feelings can keep until later.
“Aw, that doesn’t sound right at all. Cliff’s been talking about how he hasn’t seen the pup—as he calls him—this happy in ages. You need to just call the man, sugar.”
“Nope.” I tip my nose into the air—but all I get is a snout fulleau de diner.
