I jump away from Brad so fast that my chair rolls and stops with a thud against the wall. Brad has a dazed expression, and I want to kiss him more than ever—but the phone is still ringing.
“Chas,” Raja says from the doorway. “We just talked about this.” They nod at Brad. “Coach Rathborn.”
As I grab the phone, I take a few quick breaths to calm down. Thankfully, it’s a business call, so I focus on the information the caller needs and not Brad standing less than two feet away. I search through my papers, and Brad taps the desk.
“See you Friday,” His voice is low. And amused.
I ignore the happy bubbles in my chest and the caller. “It’s not a date.”
He grins, and I forget what I was doing as I watch him walk away, until my eyes land on Raja.
Right. Focus. I have work to do.
Back to adulting.
Friday, January 9th
“This is a stupid idea,” I say, glaring at Brad. We’re walking down Main Street in the biggest town in Dundy County. My parents’ party is only four weeks away, and I’m trying not to panic at all the things we still need to finalize.
“You agreed to it, sweetheart.”
I dart in front of him, forcing him to stop. “Don’t call me that.”
His cheeks are red. Is that from the cold or something else? “It slipped out,” he says. “Won’t happen again.”
The wind blows my hair in my face, and I push it back. The thing proving the most difficult to shove away? The memory of Brad almost kissing me. And how much I wanted it. I don’t let any of that show. “I agreed to taste-testing at a few places. This is dinner.”
His eyes crinkle, and damn, why do I want to trace each one of those lines with my lips? This is why it’s such a bad idea. “Don’t worry, Chas,” he says, emphasizing my name. “This isn’t me trying to trick you into a date.”
“No?” I lift a brow.
His fingers brush my hair out of my face, and I barely stop myself from sighing. My body heats at his gentle, almost teasing, touch. “I wouldn’t rely on tricks,” he says softly, tucking a strand behind my ear. “If I wanted a date, I’d ask.”
“Oh.”
We’re standing so close I can feel his breath on my face. I can still feel the heat from his fingers, even though he’s no longer touching me. I bite my lip, and his eyes zero in on my mouth. Why is this a bad idea again? We’re both adults. But then he blinks and side nods at the building next to us.
“We’re here.”
The inside of Mae’s Diner is decorated with a farmhouse theme. Which is perfect for my parents. But the food is what matters.
They’ve prepared a variety of options specifically for Valentine’s Day. The pizza roses are good but messy, and I lick the sauce off my lips.
Brad groans and hands me a napkin. “Stop teasing me.”
Oh gosh. Is that what he thinks? “I’m not.”
“You are,” he insists with a grin. “Just not intentionally.”
My face heats, but I don’t apologize.
“Try the fried buffalo artichoke hearts.” He holds a piece close to my mouth. Does he want me to eat it from his fingers?
I shouldn’t. But I take a bite, and it’s good. The tangy buffalo sauce bursts on my tongue, and I moan. His fingers are right there. His eyes darken. “Charlie.”
I pull back, shaking my head as I swallow the bite. “You did that to yourself.”
“I did.”
