But he doesn’t look sorry at all.
“Are you still teaching shop?” I ask because if he’s talking, he’s not staring at me like he wants me for dessert instead of the tiramisu truffles.
“Industrial Arts, but yes. I love working with the kids. And building things. Oh, I have something for you.” He reaches into his back pocket and pulls out a piece of paper.
“What’s this?”
Brad flattens it and turns it so I can see. It’s a drawing of a heart bench with Minni and Chuck and their wedding date engraved on it.
I trace the drawing with my finger. “Did you design this?”
“I thought I could make it for their garden.” He taps his fingers on the table as if his hands need to be doing something. There’s a catch in his voice when he asks, “What do you think?”
I squeeze his hand until he looks up. “It’s amazing.”
“Yeah?” He gives me a crooked smile. “You might want to wait until it’s finished to say that.”
Why am I continually surprised by this man?
Things are easier after that. We talk about Harper. He confirms that she lives with him right now, and that she’s one of the reasons he signed up to help renovate homes. “I just want to help people like Harper, who can’t seem to catch a break.”
“I’m glad you’re part of our team.”
“Are you?” But I can tell he’s teasing.
Brad asks about my life in Kansas City. I talk about my work and getting used to life in the big city. I briefly mention Syd, only saying that it didn’t work out. As I talk, Brad listens with zero judgment. Well, except when I tell him about my short stay with the nuns. That head shake has plenty of judgment attached.
But then he smiles. “You never cease to amaze me, Charlie.”
I could easily get addicted to the fondness in his eyes. I want more of that. More of him.
We test different samples and pick our favorites. The mood is light, but the air is charged with awareness. Every accidental brush of our fingers. Every time our eyes meet and neither of us looks away.
As Brad takes another drink of his water, I can’t look away. How have I never noticed how sexy it is to watch him drink water? He sets his glass down. “I think we need to clarify some things.”
My body tenses. “Oh? What’s that?”
He leans over the table and says in a low voice, “This is not a date.”
“Right. I know.”
“Then stop looking at me like that,” he says. I don’t ask what he means. But that doesn’t stop him. “Like you want to devour me.”
I jerk my hand, almost knocking over my water. I grab it and take a drink, hoping it will help me cool off. “The buffalo artichoke hearts were surprisingly good.”
He responds with a grin. This man knows exactly what he’s doing.
It’s even windier after we leave the restaurant, and I redo the bun in my hair. It’s only a short walk to the car, but I hate it when my hair gets tangled.
“What do you think?” Brad asks once we’re settled in his truck. “Should we meet up again and try the other places on my list?”
I almost say yes. But not for the right reason. Instead, I shake my head. “This place is great. Mom and Dad will love the food. And their prices are good.”
“Agreed. What’s next, boss?”
There are so many things I could say. But I focus on the task at hand. Planning this party. On the way back to Dixon Hills, we discuss venues, music, and how much of the town to invite. And how to keep this party a surprise.
Brad drops me off at home with nothing more than a friendly squeeze of my shoulder. I ignore the disappointment churning in my stomach. Instead, I prepare for the next day. I don’t want to be late, or I’ll get that look from Raja.
