Patton tilts his head in question, so I explain the definition.
“Ah, so like your grandmother and Judy Waples.”
“Precisely.”
He almost smiles, then pulls out his phone and sends a text, likely to issue a rescue.
We stand there in silence before it becomes unbearable. Having come from a loud family, if we’re quiet, that means something is wrong.
“So, are you excited about the hockey game at the Fire & Ice Fest?”
“I’m always excited to win.”
I snap my fingers. “There’s that humility again.”
“Humility doesn’t win championships.”
“Maybe not, but it makes you easier to be around.”
He leans against the wall opposite me, studying me with hazel eyes that, right now, remind me of the evergreens in the mountains. “You don’t seem to mind being around me lately.”
My pulse trips and then takes off at a trot. Is he … is this flirting? Or am I reading into things because I’ve been trapped in a small space with him for all of ninety seconds? The room shifts slightly, so I sit back in the chair and turn my focus to all the things that need my attention, rather than the man who strangely has my attention as his gaze scans me from head to toe.
He answers a text and then says, “Is there somewhere you need to be? Hot Valentine’s Day date?”
I realize my leg is jiggling. “What? No. Of course not.”
He looks rather pleased.
I’ve been foolish. Someone with a crush on him probably got him coffee and a doughnut hole this morning for Valentine’s Day, but he didn’t want it, so he left it for the person whose office is nearest his. That makes a lot more sense. No universe exists in which Patton Cross would be anything but tickled pink that I’m alone, lonely on Valentine’s Day.
“Is there a reason you don’t have plans tonight?” he asks.
“If you’re about to tease or ridicule me for being single, save it for someone who cares. I’m focusing on my career at the moment.” I level him with my Nonna’s best sharp-eyed gaze—the one she uses when anyone in our family steps out of line. It’s the shark-like one that comes right before a pinch on the soft skin on the back of the arm.
His eyebrows bobble.
I add, “Plus, there isn’t anyone in this town whom I’d date.”
“No? That’s a shame.”
“Is that what you really think?”
He lets a breath out through his nose. “I really do.”
Well aware that Patton merely wants to pass the time by making me feel bad, I change tactics. Two can play this game. Recalling how annoyed he got when the rookie mentioned grabbing lunch, I say, “Though I wonder if Hayes is available.”
“You’re not going on a date with Handsome.”
“Why ever not? You said it yourself. He is handsome.”
“Is that what you’re looking for in a man? Surface stuff?”
“Well, that and someone who is emotionally literate and has communication skills. Someone kind, thoughtful, and who doesn’t look at me as if he’s calculating how to get away with homicide.” I point a finger gun at him.
“I don’t look at you like that.”
“What makes you think I was talking about you, considering the qualifications?”
