Her hazel eyes widen, and she claps her hands. “Ooh! I love omelets!”
A hot blush flares in my cheeks. “You don’t have to go to all that trouble. I’m fine with a bagel, really.”
The grin he flashes me awakens something in my nether regions, and my cheeks get hotter. “Who says it’s trouble? Hailey and I need to eat, too, and we both love omelets. It’s just a couple more eggs to crack.”
“If you’re sure …”
“You hear that, Hailey? It sounds like it’s a date.” Before I can protest his use of words, he carries Hailey to the front door. “See you in, say, ten or fifteen minutes? I know we woke you up, and I’m sure you’ll want to get ready a bit first.”
My jaw drops, and Micah disappears out the door. I fan myself with my hand as I try to recover from the exchange. A date? Surely, he didn’t mean a date-date! Cursing my awkwardness, I run upstairs to get ready. I need to use the bathroom, brush my teeth and hair, and possibly change into something nicer. But what does one wear to a breakfast date with a hot neighbor?
Chapter 4
Iris
Twenty minutes later, after about three wardrobe changes, I ring Micah’s doorbell. Hailey answers the door.
“Daddy! It’s Miss Iris!”
“Well, invite her in, honey.” I hear the scrape of a spatula on a pan further inside the house. The smell of eggs, bacon, and onions wafts through the air, and my mouth waters.
I step inside and take a look around. For being in the house less than a week, Micah did a great job of unpacking and getting settled. There are only a few boxes left in the living room, and otherwise everything seems to be in place. Bookshelves line one wall, and a large modular TV stand sits opposite them. I recognize a couple different game consoles underneath the television, the games neatly stacked on a shelf. In the center of the room sits a rounded wooden coffee table with two steaming cups of coffee on it. Hailey runs over to a giant fuzzy bean bag in the corner and launches herself onto it, leaving me the couch.
I walk over to the couch and smooth my skirt under me as I sit. My nerves are a little on edge. I haven’t been on a proper date in months, and even though this is just breakfast with a neighbor, I find myself wondering if I’m over- or underdressed. After trying a few things on, I had finally decided on a floral maxi skirt and a white fitted blouse. Nothing too fancy, but not particularly casual, either. I hope it looks okay.
Micah walks in wearing his usual tight jeans and t-shirt, holding a small bowl and stirring something inside it. A dish towel sits draped over his shoulder. He glances up and lets out a low whistle. “Woah. I suddenly feel like I should change.”
I look down at my clothes. “Is it too much?”
“No, not at all. You look great. I just feel a bit like a slob in comparison.” He waves the spatula at the coffee table. “Take your pick. If you need creamer or sugar, I’ve got plenty of both. I never know what other people like in their coffee, so I figured I’d leave it up to you.”
“I’ll take a little bit of both, please.” I pick up a mug with a picture of flowers on the side, wondering if it once belonged to Micah’s wife or if it was just a random cup he ended up with.
He comes back out juggling a small shaker of sugar and three different flavors of creamer. “French vanilla, hazelnut, or mocha?”
“Hazelnut, please.”
I pour some in my mug as he takes the extras back to the kitchen. Hailey wrinkles her nose at me as she plays with a stuffed unicorn. “That stuff is icky.”
“Yeah, it’s definitely an acquired taste. I didn’t like it much when I was a little girl, either.”
She gives me a dubious look. “You were a little girl too?”
I lean forward and wink at her. “I’ll tell you a secret. Most grownup women were once little girls just like you.”
“Nuh-uh!”
I draw an X in the air over my chest. “Cross my heart.” I stop myself just short of finishing the phrase, feeling like an idiot for almost saying it. Hailey probably has enough trouble with death, being so young, that she doesn’t need me reminding her of it.
“Wow!” She sits up and tucks her little legs underneath her. “Does that mean someday I’ll be pretty like you?”
“That would be just my luck.” Micah reappears at the door, leaning against the frame. “I already worry about having to keep the boys away. Don’t make me think about what’ll happen when you’re old enough to date. If you look like Miss Iris, I’ll have my work cut out for me.”
Did he just say I’m pretty? “I’m sure any boys that try to mess with her will regret it.”
He sighs and pushes off the door frame. “Thankfully, that’s a battle for another day. At least now she’s just cute and precocious. I have a few more years before she’s a knockout.”
“It’s wild to think about, isn’t it? We all start out so little, then boom! Adults.”
