“Thanks, call me if you need anything.” I fish my keys out of my pocket and start for the truck.
“We won’t,” June singsongs back into the house, closing the door behind her.
I feel like I’m getting ahead of myself, but this feels like the beginning of something really good, and I hope Mae sees it that way too.
***
There’s not a lot to do in Paxton, let alone places to take someone for a nice dinner. I considered taking her to the next town over with more options, but I thought Mae might enjoy a classic option — the truck bed date.
I want to learn everything about her, but even more, I want to understand her. She keeps things locked up tight. I figured that out the night she timidly told Jacob to go stick it where the sun don’t shine. If I’m lucky, she’ll open up to me.
Turning onto the gravel driveway, I roll up to her house and flip the truck off, taking a deep breath.
The sun is starting to go down. The evening is supposed to be comfortable, and I’m hoping the weather holds out for us.
Rapping my knuckles against the door, I wait for her to answer, and she doesn’t right away. Maybe she’s still getting ready. I take a step back to sit on the step and wait for her. Then the door swings open.
“Hi,” she says, breathless.
“Hey.” I grin.
“Sorry, I’m still getting ready. Come in,” she says.
“No problem, take your time,” I tell her, stepping over the threshold. I’m immediately hit with Mae’s perfume. It smells sweet with a hint of floral, and I nearly follow her like a dog with chicken in her hand.
I’ve never been to Francesca and Leo’s house. But there are flowers everywhere, and I hope one of them is the bouquet I got Mae. It’s a log cabin-style house, but it doesn’t feel like it. Some of the walls aren’t the classic wood of the cabin, but are drywalled, making the space feel lighter and more open.
The kitchen is a mix of painted walls, log cabin, and tile. The cabinets are natural hickory, and the stone countertops are white with large veining throughout. The living room looks well worn, and comfortable with two large sofas and a chair to the side of the TV.
It smells like her everywhere. I take a deep breath and sit at the dining table to wait for her.
“I’m almost done! I had a big project my boss tossed on me and it took me longer than I thought it would, on top of the internet going in and out,” she yells across the house.
“What do you do? Other than the shop, of course,” I ask her.
“I’m a forensic accountant,” she says, but not as loud as she comes into the kitchen.
“That sounds … fun,” I say.
She snorts. “I like numbers, but let’s be honest, it’s not cool or fun at all.”
“I mean, someone has to be good with numbers, right?”
She lifts a shoulder and grabs her purse off the hook. “I guess. Okay, I’m ready.”
Mae stares at me nervously, and I bite my lip, looking her up and down. She’s got black cowboy boots, the ones from the other night, dark jeans, and a shirt with a denim jacket on.
“Is this okay? You said dress for outside.”
I bob my head, dumbstruck. “You look great.”
The corner of her mouth lifts. “Thanks.”
“Shall we?” I ask her, gesturing toward the door.
She flips off the lights as I open the front door for her, and flip the knob lock.
I hold my arm out to her and wait for her to take it before going down the stairs.
