“To me putting my hand on your back?”
“That,” I admit. “But also … compliments … the way you look at me …”
“How’s that?”
“Like … I don’t know. You just stare at me.”
“Because I like looking at you,” he says. “You’re beautiful.”
Again with the beautiful.
“Thank you,” I say softly. “You look nice too—really nice.”
And he does. He’s wearing a navy button-up shirt that looks extra crisp, khaki pants and some dress shoes. He’s a firefighter, which means he takes care of his body for work. He has to be able to put on over forty pounds of equipment and run into fires—ready to carry someone out if needed. And he looks like all that is true. His body is a study inmuscles, even through a dress shirt. His face has a boyishness to it despite the fact that he’s turning thirty this year. The boyishness comes out mostly when he smiles or laughs. The rest of the time, he’s all man.
EJ opens my door. I step up and slide in past him, catching a whiff of his cologne on the way. He’s warm and spicy and I want to burrow my head into the crook of his neck to breathe him in.
He should have wrapped himself in caution tape and worn a blinking light on his head.
While he jogs around the front of the truck, I take a deep breath, muttering, “Get a hold of yourself,” to myself. “He’s just a guy and you’re just going to dinner.”
His door opens and he hops up into the driver’s seat. “Everything okay?”
“Yeah. I was just … giving myself a pep talk.”
“A pep talk, huh?” He smiles over at me. “Is the date already going that badly?”
“I’m completely out of practice. I haven’t dated since before I got pregnant with the boys. Their dad left while I was pregnant.”
“I know,” he says. “You might forget, Angie, but I’ve known you since you were in kindergarten.”
“I know. I just didn’t know how much of my story you were familiar with.”
“All of it,” he says easily. “Or at least I think I am. But tonight’s not about the past. And you’re under no pressure to remember how to date. You just be you and let me take you out on this one dinner. Okay?”
I blow out a soft breath. “Yeah. Okay.”
“You want music?” he asks.
“Sure.”
He turns on the radio and then he says, “Pick what you like.”
I flip through stations until I find one I like and then I sit back in the seat, enjoying the opportunity to be a passenger for a change of pace.
“Where are you taking me?” I ask EJ.
“It’s a surprise.”
“I did like those Mad River burgers,” I tell him.
“Well, maybe you’ll let me take you there next year.”
“Next year?”
“On the next night out of every three hundred and sixty-five you allow me to have with you.”
“EJ!” I practically shout, shaking my head and laughing.
