Candy wasn’t wrong. Heather had picked out designer jeans that did amazing things for her legs, a loose tank top that exposed a peekaboo red bra strap, and her hairwasdown. None of that meant this was anything more than a totally platonic night of prom planning.
“I’ve got to go meet up with Mom.” Candy grabbed her purse and headed for the door. “We are hitting JoAnn Fabric so I can help make her a dress for that thing she’s got with Dad’s office. Unless you want me to stay? I can join the decorating committee.” She sang the last part.
“You already told me no, twice.” Heather flicked on the television and let Pat Sajak talk about the spinning wheel to distract her from Jase, jeans, and hair.
“That was before Jase joined the fun.” Candy rifled through her purse, grabbing her keys. “I’m out. I expect a call later detailing how this goes.”
The knock at the door signaled the start of a totally platonic evening of brainstorming.
That’s all this evening’s…event…was.
She switched off the television she’d just turned on and swung open the door. Jase grinned his patented I’m-here-now-you-can-get-naked smile. At least that’s what she called it in her head. Likely, it was his everyday charisma. In any case—
“Can I come in?” Oversized picnic basket in hand, he nodded toward her living room.
“Yes,” she said, only slightly awkward. She stepped back and let him through.
“Hey, Jase.” Candy pulled her cross-body bag across her chest. “I was just on my way out. Have fun.” Candy blew a kiss at Heather and headed out, the door clicking softly behind her.
Jase turned and studied Heather for longer than an instant. He gave her a solid once-over that she felt right down to the marrow in her bones. She shivered, and her nipples pebbled.Only the air conditioning. Nothing more.“I can honestly say,thathas never happened to me with a member of my family.”
“What’s never happened?” Heather asked.
He glanced to where Candy had closed the door. “They’ve never willingly left. Usually they have to be shoehorned out the door.”
That was not her family. They were there when she needed them, sure, but they also had a solid grasp on personal space. “Yeah? No. My family isn’t clingy.”
“You mean your grandmother doesn’t try to set you up with random nurses from her eye doctor’s office? Your parents don’t insist you check in every few days, and your brothers and sister don’t make it a point to quiz your potential dates about dietary fiber and overall dental hygiene?” he asked, his tone totally serious.
He had to be exaggerating.
“Come on, your siblings haven’t done that.” She held out her hand for the basket.
“I’d call them so they can confirm it for you, but then they’d know where I am. Then they’d know how often you brush, floss, and eat salads. It’s better for everyone if they can’t find me.” He passed the basket over to her still extended hand. “No comments on the basket. Not my idea.”
Cumin and chili powder drifted from the blue cloth covering the top. Her taste buds did a happy dance at the scent. “What’d you bring?”
“Tacos,” he said, deadpan.
Tacos. Like their imaginary first date. Her heart gave an extra beat at the memory.
“You didn’t think I’d forget?” Oh, the way his voice went husky. It did funny things to her stomach, making her question her resolve that this was not a date.
What could she say to that? It was…sweet. Sweet in a non-date kind of way.
“There’s a pitcher of margaritas in there, too.” He pulled the covering off the basket and snatched the pitcher with the screw-top lid and the plastic margarita glasses, shaking, then pouring the tequila-spiked nectar.
Heather laid out the spread of a make-your-own taco bar. It’d been packaged in plastic containers with options for chicken, seasoned ground beef, four kinds of cheeses, and three kinds of salsa.
“You did all this?” she asked.
“Eli made it.” Jase shook his head. “He’s a master in the kitchen. Went a little crazy with the whole picnic thing, though. I told him a box would’ve been fine. That’s what happens when a guy spends too much time in the kitchen and not enough in the outside world. He sticks his tacos in a basket.” Jase handed a clear plastic plate to her and began to load up his own.
“This is really nice. Thank you.” She meant it.
“Eh.” He shrugged.
Just dinner. Not-a-date. Except “just dinner” didn’t feel likejust dinner.
