“Kelly across the street said her contractor mentioned that someone got a little territorial with the neighbor he was trying to ask out. Naturally, Kelly asked me if something was blossoming between our two neighbors, and we both hope it will take the street arguments down a notch. Then, of course, young Oliver who lives down the street and works with your new beau was more than eager to give his two cents when he was out for his run. Then we have the Browns’ kids who mentioned they saw Keats collect your pizza box at your door the other week. Neighborhood watch also started a separate email chain to discuss our theories.”
My entire face drops from the happenings going on around my back. “Wow, that’s… I have no words,” I reply blankly.
She assesses me. “Are you sure you don’t want to grab a light sweater?”
“No. I’m fine.”
She cocks her head to the side gently. “Just a little coverup or something. You don’t want to give your gentleman caller the impression that you are too easy.”
“What the hell,” I mumble to myself. What is happening? Nervously, I do my best to keep my face bright. “Really. I’m not chilly.” Besides, Keats had already done indecent things to me.
I never knew that I would be so thankful to hear Keats’s car drive up the street.
“Oh, look at that. I need to run. Don’t forget your tomato plants in the side yard.”
“You two kids have fun. Don’t be out too late.”
I almost skip to the street, and Keats doesn’t even have opportunity to fully stop because I already open the passenger’s side door, and for the brief few seconds he does stop, I slide onto the seat in record time and close the door.
“Go. Now. Hurry.”
Keats looks at me strangely but listens, with his foot on the accelerator. “What in the world?”
Buckling up, I take a deep calming breath. “Mrs. Tiller was giving me fashion advice, as I’m apparently encouraging you to be an improper gentleman caller.”
He snorts a laugh. “She’s not exactly wrong.”
I glare at him that I’m not amused. Not because it isn’t funny. “There’s more. The entire street has been talking about us. Even secret conversations and bets, I’m sure. If you actually show me your A-game tonight, then neither one of us can enter the other’s house because someone from neighborhood watch will be out with their binoculars and inform everyone by 8am tomorrow.”
Keats just chuckles. “This is classic. Another reason I live on Everhope Road. We have a great cast of characters.”
My smile is uncontrollable at this point. “You’re not the one that Mrs. Tiller is probably now knitting a sweater for, as I’m apparently dressing too scandalously.”
Keats grows quiet for a second, calming down. “You look good,” he comments in earnest.
Taking in my surroundings, I remind myself why I’m here.
On a date.
With Keats.
For a man who probably just worked a 12-hour day, he seems refreshed. My favorite, with a few buttons undone, and his cologne with a tint of nutmeg tingles just right to my nose.
“Thanks. How was work?”
“The usual. Those are for you, by the way.” He motions with his head as his eyes remain on the road.
It doesn’t take long for me to search the back, as the bunch of flowers are on the middle of the seat. Maybe he noticed my wildflowers in a vase near my desk when we shared pizza and that’s why he chose this bouquet. It’s a far-too-sweet gesture, even for me, but oh gosh, I like it.
“They’re lovely.”
Right away, he seems proud of himself. “I was debating on a fruit basket, but that would insinuate you would need to make me a pie, and that’s more serious than marriage, so we are not going down that road.”
I laugh softly. “For a man who is a little high-strung, I never expected you to be… funny? Relaxed? Somewhat normal.” My face must show that I’m unsure how to phrase that.
He glances to his side with feigned shock. “Thank you, I think.”
Another thought dawns on me. “Where are we going, by the way? You never mentioned. This is your make-it-or-break-it moment on the dating front.”
