“We’ll finish this conversation later,” McKenna said to the goats before turning to face Nate.
“Oh my.” She didn’t know what she was expecting to see, but a handsome Easter egg was not on the list.
“Wow,” she said with a laugh, lifting the camera to take a shot of Nate standing there with his hands in the pockets of a pair of baby blue dress pants with matching suspenders. A pale-yellow button-down shirt stretched tight across his chest. “This one’s definitely going on the fridge,” she said, shaking the Polaroid picture.
“Like it?” he said, clicking the heels of his shiny white shoes together.
She nodded, still giggling. “I especially love how the pants are about three inches too short.”
“Yeah, well, that’s because Gus is about three inches too short. When he said he had something I could borrow, I should’ve asked for more details.”
McKenna finally tore her gaze away from his outfit long enough to notice his shorter-styled hair. “Did you get a haircut?”
“Hey, it’s the Bugle Dominoes Dance, baby. Go hard or go home, right?” He ran a hand over his dark hair, patting down the cowlick that wasn’t so prominent now.
“You certainly didn’t go home. My goodness. Not sure I’ve ever seen you so well-groomed. You may very well be the hottest date in all of Bugle.”
“And I think we both know how much that’s saying. Now, not to sound rude, but I can’t help wondering why you aren’t well-groomed.” He tapped the watch on his wrist. “We need to leave in an hour. Don’t women need, like, ten hours to get ready?”
“Not when they don’t have dapper outfits like yours to wear. All I have is the one dress I always wear, which only takes about five seconds to put on. I’m afraid what you see is what you get.”
“I like what I see,” Nate said a shade quieter. A shade closer. A shade more serious.
McKenna took an unbalanced step back, her laugh self-deprecating. “Sure those glasses are still working for you? What you see right now is a sweaty woman with... very dirty knees.” Probably from kneeling next to the goat pen. “I’m going to go groom. I mean, shower. What you see isn’t what you get. I can do better. Not necessarily with my hair, but—” She motioned to the rest of her. “You know what I mean.”
McKenna started past him, but his hand snagged her to his side. The subtle spicy scent of his aftershave tempted her closer.
“Yes?” she said as his hazel eyes roamed her face. Almost like he was taking note of every single freckle. Hopefully not, because thatwas an endeavor that could take ages. And what man would want to take note of every one of her freckles anyway?
“Nate?” she said, hearing the insecurity leak out in her brief laugh.
His eyes remained locked on hers as he tilted his head, pausing a breath away from her lips. “I like what I see, McKenna,” he whispered.
Then his lips pressed against hers. Quick. Too quick.
He was already back to the B&B and disappearing into the house before McKenna remembered to breathe, let alone find her voice and say something along the lines ofGet back here, mister. I want to do that again.
What was going on between them? Something was going on between them. And she didn’t think she could wait until after the Harry Connick Junior concert to figure out what. Because deep down she couldn’t help hoping that something good was going on here, and she was special enough, at least in one man’s eyes, to deserve it.
Two hours later, after dancing with way too many women that weren’t McKenna and donating every last dollar in Gus’s pants pockets to whatever cause this Saturday night in June was supporting in Bugle, Nate couldn’t take it anymore.
He marched over to where McKenna was taking dozens of pictures of the dessert table when one picture would have been one more than anybody needed, removed the camera from her hand, and said, “Can I please have at least one dance with my actual date for the night?”
McKenna dug her hands into her dress pockets, her shoulders lifting in a shrug. “You heard Lottie earlier. She doesn’t even want me taking bathroom breaks while I’m on the clock.”
A young boy with chocolate frosting smeared across his mouth darted past. Nate snagged him by the back of his pants. “Hey kid, see how many pictures you can take in the next five minutes without breaking this thing.”
“Cool!” The boy took off and Nate tugged McKenna into his arms just as “Be My Baby” by the Ronettes started up.
“There. Covered.”
“Hmm. Wonder if he’s interested in filling in for me on a more permanent basis back in Nebraska, too.”
Nate guided her past the balloon arch where she’d been stationed most of the evening taking pictures. A couple of long rectangular tables held giant coolers filled with sweet tea and lemonade and all sorts of finger foods. Beyond that sat the dance floor where two large speakers blasted out songs from the sixties.
After spinning McKenna around in a little twirl move, he pulled her close and began to sway with a contented sigh.This.This is what he’d been waiting for all evening. Ever since that small taste of her lips.
He’d hoped for another taste somewhere between the B&B and community center, but her boss had called. McKenna spent the entire drive reassuring a very worried Mr. Sullivan that she hadn’t been abducted and that an assistant named Kristi was more than capable of handling bar mitzvahs and cactus plants.
