And now here she was, with a genuinely concerned detective, a handsome as sin one, and she was half undressed. In public. And not for sexy reasons.
She stepped back, his hands hesitating before fully dropping, and lowered her head, pressing it through where her arms were holding her sweater open. When she popped back up, a tug down and once again fully dressed, she smiled brightly at the detective who was now looking at her like she was an enigma.
She liked how he looked at her. She couldn't name it, decipher it, but it made her feel feminine, like she was the best kind of curiosity.
"Ah, you just witnessed a sexy hot flash," she said.
His eyebrows raised the slightest and he looked surprised, which quickly and smoothly morphed into a smile.
"I am really glad you weren't about to solicit someone you know to be on the police force."
She smiled, charmed by his wit. "Too much paperwork?"
He nodded with crinkled eyes. "Way too much paperwork." And then his eyes looked into hers, the humor shining in them circled by an honesty and directness she felt.
Sweet oranges bloomed.
She closed her eyes at the suddenness of the scent flooding her and the moment was broken. When she opened her eyes he had taken a step back and put himself together in a relaxed but less warm stance.
"Uh, so I apologize for yelling at you and then embarrassing you in public by stripping on the street corner. I'm usually pretty cool."
His mouth fought a strong-pulling smile but he captured it and nodded. "I am just glad someone was there to stop you from your urge to revisit your high school summer camp flashing days."
She fought her own smirk. "I never went to summer camp."
"Probably for the best. You would have been a menace."
His blue eyes couldn't hide their mirth, and something was happening between them. It was bubbly and uncomfortable in that pleasant and curious way. Being around Detective Taylor White reminded Eloise of the seriousness of being playful. It was far too easy to grow up and leave behind laughter and wonder, forgetting how deeply important they are for a full life, for joy. And Eloise was a woman who had placed joy on a shelf before she left her Midwest town to run.
What would it be like to dust it off and learn its voice again? The way it laughs and sometimes cries, the way joy has a penchant to wrap itself around the ribs of people who understand simple things like planting flowers and sitting quietly with coffee, laughing with a good friend, finishing a good book.
He seemed like the kind of man who understood those things and it was comforting in a way, and frightening in an altogether different way.
But then he shifted and looked down at his boots clearing his throat before he looked back at her. His eyes were carefullymasked now, the easy banter and the growing moment between them gone.
"Hey, the guy I told you about. He's really interested."
"Oh," she said, a shocked tone not hiding her whiplash. "That's good. Nice. I would want that if I decide to go on a date with him."
"Right," he said lifting a shoulder. "That makes sense. So?"
"Hmm?" she asked, still disoriented by his less open demeanor, by his shocking shift of mood.
"Do you want me to set you up with him?"
"Oh! Right!" she exclaimed and laughed twice before she shook her head and said, "But still, no."
"Oh," he said nodding, his own thoughts scattered like hers. The awkwardness smelled like a high school gym. "Is it because of the blueberry poptarts?"
"Obviously." A small smile from her and a flash of dimple from him.
"Okay, so I'm going to go home because I clearly need that nap and then butter."
"Right," he said, his eyes lighting again. "Because when I almost flash the town, butter is...on...my....mind." He tapped his temple with the words and one side of her mouth lifted at him trying to dispel the awkward mood.
"I'll see you around, detective," she said shaking her head and turning toward The Lost Souls House. "And just because I flashed you doesn't mean we're finished with the loose end of no one looking into Bess being bullied," she called over her shoulder.
"Fair," he replied. "Do you really eat butter when you're having a rough day? Because it's supposed to be ice cream," he shouted as she walked away. "Did someone who didn't like you tell you it's butter?"
