He’d put on a red button-up shirt because he knew Charlotte was partial to the color. But that looked too dressy by itself. Lizzie recommended a gray, circle-neck sweater and his tweed, knee-length jacket. He slipped on a pair of cowboy boots he saved for special occasions and tucked his jeans over the tops.
She’d said he looked: snatched.
He wasn’t sure that was a good thing or where she’d learned the vernacular–the school opened so many doors he wished would stay shut for his little girl.
He felt like he was trying too hard. Then he felt dumb because Lizzie had seen him in snow clothes and his rock and roll-themed tee shirts, and she’d still agreed to go out with him.
He shouldn’t worry so much about what he wore.
But … were his shoes too shiny?
He needed to think about something else. That parent guilt that Jenny warned him about crept in like a mouse after a crumb. He was careful not to call tonight a date in front of his little girl. He didn’t need her getting any ideas. In fact, he’d fudged things a bit and focused more on her night with Jenny than on his with Charlotte–only mentioning in passing that he might spend some time with his friend, too.
Thankfully, Lizzie was nearly feverish over her first late night. He planned to pick her up by ten, so it wasn’t all that late, but for a kindergartener, who would probably fall asleep in front of a movie around 8:30, it all sounded so glamorous.
After dropping her off, he pulled up to Charlotte’s place and opened the truck door, grateful for the cold air that cooled him down. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but he was nervous. This was his first date in a long time.
Walking along the freshly shoveled walkway and down the steps was a blur. His arm was burdensome as he knocked, and he didn’t feel the contact with the door, though it echoed from far away. His breath clouded in front of his face and made him feel dizzy.
He reached for something to steady himself; this was a mistake. He wasn’t ready.
As darkness started to close around his vision, the door swung open and warm air lifted him like a gentle hand.
He focused on the enchantress standing before him, highlighted from behind by the soft lights on the tree and over the mantle.
Charlotte smiled softly. “You look good.”
He couldn’t speak.Shewas a vision in a caramel-colored sweater dress that hugged her hips and balanced on one shoulder, revealing a hint of creamy skin around her collarbone. He’d never know how she managed to keep it in such a precarious location. But that fact that shecouldmade her elegant and way out of his league. She’d pulled her hair over one shoulder, and she wore earrings made of feathers and beads. Though she didn’t need makeup, the dark lining around her eyes made them bigger, and her lips were a deep shade of kissable red.
He suddenly hated everything he wore. Which made him mad at himself because he was a guy and shouldn’t care. Except he cared for Charlotte’s sake. She should have a man equally as beautiful as her.
She ducked her head. At the sight of cheeks in high color, his brain kicked on, and he realized he hadn’t said a word since she opened the door. He said the first compliment that came to mind. “You’re a snowflake.”
A tiny line formed between her brows, and she glanced down, probably noting that her dress was brown, not white, and she didn’t have a sparkle on her.
“Not in color.” He wanted to smack his forehead. So far, he was doing a great job of messing this all up. “Beautiful, stunning, elegant, dazzling, and unique,” he hurriedly explained.
Her eyes rounded. “Well then, I guess I can be a snowflake.” She tucked one foot back and did a little curtsy. Grabbing a dark green wrap, she expertly twisted it around her shoulders and secured it with a large offset button. “Shall we?”
His stomach fell out again. She used words like: shall. He never used that word. He touched her arm. “What in the world made you say yes to going out with a guy like me?”
She gently took his hand. “Because I wasn’t saying yes to a guy like you–I said yes to you.” She stepped into the small stairwell and shut the door behind her, bringing them close enough that he could see the silver flecks in her eyes. Her skin glowed in the porch light.
Obviously, he couldn’t trust his head or his mouth. He offered his hand, and she took it, threading her fingers with his and leaning into him as they climbed the stairs. Her leather ankle boots had a belt and gold chain around each of them. Dang, she’d pulled out her sexy shoes for him.
They chatted about their days and what had happened between seeing one another. She’d spread Christmas cheer as far as FedEx would take it, and he’d finished a contract and signed another one with the same artist. It was a good feeling to be re-signed–recognizing a job well done and his talents meeting or surpassing expectations.
“I get that,” Charlotte said as they pulled into the church parking lot. “When customers ask for a design consult and then come back the next year, wanting to do it again–it’s validating.”
“Exactly!” He put the truck in park and jogged around to open the door for Charlotte. She took his hand and slid to the ground.
They plowed the parking lot, and the asphalt looked new, with bright white lines defining the parking spaces. Its appearance said that someone cared about this place and what happened there. “Do you know much about this preacher?” he asked.
Charlotte slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, making him feel protective as he steered them toward the building. They were a half hour early for the show, but the tickets said they had to be in their seat fifteen minutes before they went live.
“He came to town a couple of years back. This place was pretty run down. Moose Hollow wasn’t big on going to church back then.”
“What about the white church on Main?” He pulled the door open for them.
