Wait...did he just ask me out?
“Did you just...I mean was that you.... were you...” I sputter
“Yes,I amasking you out. Come have lunch with me. Dinner if you would rather. Both if you want. I just...I want to see you again, Nova.”
“Why?” I wonder with a tilt of my head as my brows furrow.
His grin fades but not the intensity in his eyes. “Because I have not been able to think of anything else since I first saw you, Nova.”
Flustered, I turn from him, hiding my face. It feels hot, tears even sting my eyes as I blink fast. Why would that make me upset? I haven’t been able to think of anything else either. Taking a trembling breath, I shake my head.
“I don’t.... I am not sure that is a good idea.”
“Well, I think it is the best idea I have had in ages. Come have lunch. My sister works at the diner, I bet I can score a free milkshake for you.”
Unable to resist his cute charm, I laugh. “One just for me?Or would we have to share it with two straws?”
This is a bad joke that works better than I intended. His eyes flare hot as he leans closer, invading my space with his big body. “I would rather share. Yes, to lunch then? Maybe to dinner later?”
Again, I laugh, shaking my head. “I never said yes to either. Who said I would want to share?” I play along, loving this back and forth.
“Oh, I do not share well, honey,” he mutters, licking his lips as his eyes eat me up. “I would share with you. Anything of mine is yours.”
“Does that count your two lost boys?” I tease, laughing as he chuckles, nodding his head.
“Absolutely. Wedoneed a Wendy, after all,” he teases with a wink. “Consider our little band of misfits incomplete.”
Standing there with this charming man, I sense the air shifting. It thickens. Grows hot. His eyes flame even brighter as he reaches out, brushing his fingertips over my cheeks und the guise of brushing a loose curl out of my eye. His touch lingers, fingertips tracing my brow, down my nose, to the cupid’s bow above my lip. My lip quivers as his thumb comes up, brushing it, pulling a little sigh from me.
“Lost boys would stay lost without their Wendy, this is true.”
“It is. Come on, honey. How can you say no to a lost boy?”
Laughing, I shake my head. “I guess I can’t say no. Can you give me a few hours to create? We just opened; I had some ideas to work out.”
“Take all the time you need. I will be back for you in a few hours.”
Something warm begins to burn inside me as I nod. Yes, I want to see him again. He smiles at me, giving my bottom lip a little rub, before he turns and leaves. Hesitating at the door, heglances back at me and his whole face lights up, making my heart pitter-pat in my chest.
“Holy shit,” Hudson’s voice booms from behind me, startling me. I turn to frown at him, flushing as his gaze bounces between me and the door. “You just got asked out on a date! Holy shit,” he repeats before he grins big.
“Shut up. Go do something with flowers, Hudson,” I retort.
Chuckling, he does as he is told, loading up several deliveries. I spend most of the morning putting together huge, wintery displays of flowers. I am in fine form as I weave babies breathe with roses and twine eucalyptus’ perfumed vines within. I create half a dozen bouquets before the bell on the front door tings just after noon.
Before I even turn from my work, I know it is him. I have no ideahow, but I sense it. Heat singes my skin, my hands shake around the vase I am finishing, so I gingerly set it down. Taking a calming breath, I turn slowly, unable to stop the smile that overtakes my face.
“Here I am, as promised,” he greets with a huge grin on his handsome face. I notice for the first time he has a dimple. I find myself wanting to press my lips to it. Who am I lately? Setting my tools aside, I dust my hands off as I untie my apron.
“Here you are,” I parrot his words, smiling. “I wondered if I might escape lunch with Peter Pan, but I see that was wishful thinking.”
“Oh, Wendy, you wound me,” he shoots back, placing a hand over his heart. “Wishful thinking? We’re making very different wishes then.”
Something about his words, not the words but his tone, and the way his eyes darken, makes my flush spread down to my toes. What does he mean by that? Does he mean he has been making wishes about me?
Would I want this handsome Peter Pan to make a wish onme?
Rounding the edge of the counter, I shake my head. “I am teasing. I have not had a lunch date in…ever, I think.”
