She blinks a few times. “No.”
“Let’s go get a bite.” I’m trying to be casual here. Yes, I’d like to ask her on a real date, but this is as good as it gets right now, because I need to feel her out.
“Go out? You want to go out? With me? Tonight?”
I nod. “I do.” And there. I said it.
“Right now?”
“I need to make a couple of calls. Why don’t I pick you up at 6:30?”
She slides open her patio door and peeks inside. “Thirty minutes?”
“Sure. Thirty is plenty of time.”
“Okay.”
“Yeah?”
She nods. “See you in a few.”
Damn. That was easier than I thought.
Why am I nervous?
****
Jesus.
She’s wearing a tiny fucking summer dress and those flip-flop sandal things.
Okay. It’s not tiny in a bad way. It’s got skinny little straps that sit on very pale shoulders. There are freckles dotted all over the place. The urge to lick her shoulder to trace those dots with my tongue is strong. Very strong.
Calm your ass down, Griffin.
Baby steps.
“You look great.” I know I could have said something better than that, but that’s what came out of my damn mouth.
“Thanks.”
“I like your hair down.” I reach out to touch, but quickly pull my hand away. I feel like a goddamn pervert around this woman. It’s not a typical Sam Griffin move, let me tell you. It’s just … she’s been on my mind. A lot.
“You do?” She runs her hand over the top of her head, then down.
“It’s the first thing I noticed about you.” I cough. “One of the first things.” That and her ass. And her tits. But that’s crass shit right there, so I’ll knock it off.
“Oh.” She runs her fingers through her long red hair again like she’s nervous.
“Come on.” I reach out and touch her arm right above her wrist. “I’ll drive.”
I step around to the passenger side of my truck, open the door, and gesture for her to hop up. She looks around for something to grasp to hike herself up. Sliding my hands on either side of her waist, I say, “Let me help. Little thing like you.”
“Little.” She snorts as I lift. “You can just stop with the bogus compliments.”
I’m taken aback by her comment because I don’t do “bogus compliments.” Once she’s in her seat, I lean in a little closer—close enough to see her pale blue eyes sparkle. It looks like she’s got on a dab of makeup, but not enough to hide those pretty freckles. “I don’t give phony compliments, Colette.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not tiny, and you know it.” She crosses her arms in front of her and releases a little huffing sound. If she weren’t pissing me off, I’d say her little pout was adorable.
