Man, I miss a few things about Trish, of course; I really did love her, and I’ll always care about her. But I’m surprised by how much Idon’tmiss. By how many things are actually better without her there to gripe and moan.
I’m not going to feel guilty for feeling that way, either. I also refuse to feel guilty for enjoying Kirsten’s company so much. And man, I seriously do. She is a breath of fresh air. Up for adventure and fun. She’s just so easy to be around. So far, we’ve only done stuff as a group. Now it’s time to see if she’s up for a little alone time, just the two of us. A date.
That kiss we shared on Friday night was, as Parker or Jack would say,fire. I want more, and I hope she does too.
There’s only one way to find out.
I scroll through my contacts until I get to Kirsten’s number. So far, I’ve had Jack do most of the inviting. He was a good buffer and, honestly, harder to say no to; I’m no dummy. But now for the test. Wednesday night is fast-approaching. If we can get together while the kids are gone mid-week, we might just decide we want a whole lot more while they’re gone over the weekend.
I type out a text and read through it while my thumb hovers over the send button:Hey, got any plans this Wednesday? I’d love to take you out to dinner to thank you for coming to Paige’s recital. And for making our trip to Spicer’s this year so special.
Is it a cop-out to say it’s to thank her? She’ll just say it’s her pleasure, and then I’ll have to say that I’d still like to take her or that I insist and that could get awkward. I tap the delete button until only part remains:
Hey, got any plans this Wednesday? I’d love to take you out to dinner.
I hit send before I can chicken out, then drop the phone on my desk and smear my palms over my slacks.Sheesh,I’m like a kid again.
My phone lets out a buzz.
Kirsten:That sounds fun. I’d love to.
“Yes!” I pump a fist and shoot to my feet, pacing the office like I do every time I close a deal.I rush back to my phone and text her back:
We both have to drop our kids off at Greg and Trish’s. Actually, you’re probably doing what I’m doing and letting the kid with the driver’s permit drive on the way there. Should we say seven o’clock just to be safe? I’ve gotta make sure Parker finishes his essay first; homework enforcement isn’t Trish’s forte.
“Hit send, Beau,” I tell myself, so I do.
She’s quick to text back. Probably doing voice to text.
Kirsten:What a coincidence. It’s not Greg’s forte either. Sexting is perfect.
My eyes nearly pop right out of my face when I read it. My phone buzzes again in my hand.
Kirsten:Not sexting. Sexting is not perfect, but seven is. Sheesh!!!She adds faces in agony to prove her embarrassment. I decide to have a little fun with it.
Beau:Are you sure?
Kirsten:I’m sure.
Beau:Because I don’t condone that type of thing, you know. It’s…icky.
I chuckle and hit send.
Kirsten:Noted.
My eyes go wide again. It’s not what I expected her to say at all. I thought she’d ramble on and on about how she thinks it’s icky too. I’ve met the woman—I already know that’s how she feels about it. She’s just flirting with me.
I like that.
Kirsten:What should I wear?
I know exactly where I want to take her, so I type back.
Beau:Business casual, bring a jacket.
A knock comes to my door a second before it flies open.
“What the heck?” Luke says. “Are we going to lunch or not?”
