“Six thirty work for you, Prudence?”
When he says my name, his voice gets rather deep. I like it.
“Yes. That works.”
“Great. See you there.”
Nate turns to leave, but I’ve got a question. “Uh, Nate?”
His head turns. “Yeah?”
“What can I bring?”
“Nothin’. I’ve got it covered.”
“All right.” No way am I going empty-handed. My mother would have a conniption.
* * *
“Why didI say I’d have dinner with him?” This is Laura’s fault. She’s the one that put these ideas into my head about rubbing and so on. I place my forehead on my steering wheel and pretend to bang my head against it.
I decide to call the person responsible for my current situation because I’m losing my nerve. I’m not sure I can get out of my car.
“Because. He was nice, for once. And he got all hero-ee on you today. When did your ex ever do anything like that for you?”
Never. He hated bugs as much as me. Maybe more. “You’re right.”
“I know.” Ugh. Her arrogance is getting annoying.
My phone chimes, telling me it’s six thirty. “I’ve gotta go.”
“Call me afterwards. I want to knoweverything.”
She means it. She’ll want all the dirty details. Or in my case, the not-so-dirty ones. “Sure. Bye.”
I click off and stare at the brick ranch in front of me. It looks like a nice place. I’d guess his house was built in the 1970s because all the houses in his neighborhood are from after World War II up into the 1980s. Oakdale consists of three main areas. Mine is the oldest with houses built from around the turn of the century to the 1940s with designs like little bungalows and larger, more stately homes. Then, there’s the west side of town with the brand-new houses popping up. Those homes are nice, but boy, they’re expensive. Over three hundred thousand dollars for a place not much bigger than mine.
Pushing open my car door, I place a foot on the ground. I pause, working up the courage to get all the way out of my car. Reaching back into the passenger seat, I grasp my offering with one hand and my purse in the other. I shut my door with my hip and contemplate locking it. It’s unnecessary in our little town, but I do it anyway. Habit. By the time I reach the front step, sweat is starting to gather at my hairline. “Stop it,” I hiss to myself. There’s no reason to be nervous. This is just dinner.
Oh, God. Why did I agree to this?
Prudence. You can do this.
Pushing my shoulders back, I lift my head and take the final step up onto his porch. Pressing the doorbell, I wait. Not long. He’s got the door open before I’ve had to time mentally prepare.
“Hey.” He says as he holds open the screen door for me. Wow. He looks nice. Sure, he’s wearing his usual uniform of jeans and tee, but it’s obvious he’s just showered because his hair is wet and slicked back. I quickly scan him and notice his bare feet, which gives me a bit of a shiver. There’s something intimate about him coming to the door with no shoes.
Shaking that off, I hold out my hand. “I brought something. Even though you told me not to.”
He chuckles, reaching for the six pack of Budweiser in my hand. “Beer?”
“Figured you to be less of a wine guy and more of a Bud man.” Refreshing, actually. Travis was all about wine. He’d spend hours readingWine Enthusiastmagazine, a subscription his mother kept current every year.
I’m not going to think about his awful mother.
“You’d be right.” Holding open the door, he steps aside. “Come on in.”
As soon as I step into the foyer, my mouth drops because his place is, well, nice. The first room we enter is his living room. The walls are a medium blue-gray. He’s got a huge television mounted to the wall and a large sectional sofa in gray against the main wall. The coffee table looks like it was made in the 1970s and same goes for the end tables. There are pretty lamps on each of those and a rug in cream, gray, and blue that ties everything together. It’s masculine without going over-the-top. It looks cozy, like the perfect place to curl up and watch a movie.
