“Not as much as I am, I promise you that, Rawley Bowman.” She hugged a throw pillow to her chest, inhaling the faint scent of her lavender fabric softener.
She glanced at the antique wall clock, its brass pendulum swinging hypnotically beneath the roman numerals that read only eleven. Two hours would feel like an eternity. With a resigned sigh, she set her laptop aside, the screen still glowing with her blank document, and walked across the sun-dappled hardwood floor to her bedroom. Standing before her cedar closet, she fingered through hangers of possibilities. Jeans were non-negotiable, but what to pair them with? A blouse or a T-shirt?
After splashing cool water on her flushed cheeks, she slipped into her favorite faded jeans that hugged her curves just right, and a blue sleeveless blouse. Her white sandals clicked against the floor as she returned to the living room, where she sat for precisely thirty seconds before jumping up again to pace the room.
“He’s just a man,” she whispered to the empty room, her voice betraying her racing pulse.
No man had ever tied her stomach in such elaborate knots. Handsome men were a dime a dozen, but Rawley was different, his chiseled jawline and dark eyes were just the beginning. It was the easy confidence in his broad shoulders, the way he held himself. He also had manners. Her mother would love him, she thought with a smile.
Her phone buzzed against the coffee table, screen illuminating with Ryan’s name and a thumbnail photo of her best friend.
Hey. How’s your Monday going?
It’s wonderful. I’m meeting Rawley for lunch at the diner. Her fingers trembled slightly as she typed.
Today?
Yes. At one. I can’t wait. I’m ready to go now. She added a blushing emoji that captured her schoolgirl’s excitement.
I’m sure you are. I just wanted to tell you that I loved the book. It was great, as usual.
That is something all authors want to hear. Trust me, I can never hear it enough.She smiled, grateful for the momentary distraction.
You know I’d tell you the truth.
I know you would, and I appreciate it.
I see another bestseller!
Skylar laughed, the sound echoing in her quiet house.I’m hoping!
I’ll let you go. Please let me know how lunch goes.
I will. Love you!She added a heart emoji.
Love you back. Have fun!
Skylar pointed the remote at her flat-screen TV, flipping through channels until settling on a home renovation show where a couple argued about kitchen backsplashes. The fifteen-minute drive into town meant she still had an agonizing wait ahead. She could practically taste the anticipation, sweet and sharp like the lemonade the diner was famous for.
“Yeah, now watch him turn out to be a jerk,” she muttered to her reflection on the TV screen, trying to temper her expectations even as butterflies performed an elaborate ballet in her stomach. God, she hoped not. He had seemed like a nice guy Saturday night, but she had to admit, she didn’t know anything about him other than he was a livestock agent and incredibly handsome.
At twelve-thirty, she walked out to her vehicle, where the scent of cut grass lingered in the stuffy air. She slid into her SUV, pressed the ‘start’ button, and the engine purred to life. She put it in reverse and backed out of the driveway and glanced into the rearview mirror to check her makeup, then drove toward town. Her stomach twisted into a pretzel at the thought of seeing him.
When she arrived in town, she drove down Main Street, past the faded brick storefronts with their colorful awnings fluttering in the breeze, then pulled into the diner parking lot. After finding a place to park between a dusty pickup and a gleaming motorcycle, she shut the SUV off, took a deep breath, opened the door and stepped out into the August heat that wrapped around her like a suffocating blanket.
Skylar strode through the parking lot to the sidewalk, opened the glass door and entered the diner. The blast of air conditioning raised goosebumps on her sun-warmed skin as she looked around the checkered-floor space but didn’t see Rawley yet, so she slid into a worn red vinyl booth to wait.
Every time the brass bell above the door jingled, she’d look up from fidgeting with her silver bracelet, hoping to see him enter, but he hadn’t yet.
“Hi, Skylar. What can I get you, hon?” Connie, the owner of the diner with her salt-and-pepper hair piled high in a messy bun, asked as she stood beside the booth and set down a sweating glass of ice water.
“I’m waiting for someone, Connie. I’ll order once he gets here, but I’ll just drink water for now.”
“Okay, hon. You just wave me down when you’re ready.”
“I will. Oh, there he is now.” Her heart skipped as the bell chimed.
Connie looked toward the door then back at Skylar, a knowing smile crinkling the corners of her eyes.
