“Ford! I wasn’t expecting you yet.” Her face was flushed, and her hair tangled. She looked like she’d been wrestling.
“I can see that.” He winked. She was adorably messy. She seemed approachable and cuddly. “I was just letting you know I’d be a few minutes late. I was at a small fire and need to clean up. Can we make it half an hour?”
“Oh. Yeah. Sure. Half an hour will be great. I can be ready by then. Tell you what. I’ll stop over in thirty minutes. That way you don’t have to come to my door.” Her eyes bulged and she snapped her mouth shut.
Was she nervous?
About a date with him?
Naw. Couldn’t be. They’d been out half a dozen times at least, but not in the last few days.
“Sure,” he said slowly. “That works. See you in a bit.”
He barely had the words out when she shut her door in his face.What in the world? He shrugged off a sense of unease and headed for the shower. He had already showered at work, but occasionally, it tookmore than one to get the stench of burned plastic out of his nose.
He was exhausted. Fighting fires, even small ones, took a physical and emotional toll. Usually, being with Drinda soothed him but after their brief, weird conversation, he was tenser than before.
Was she hiding something from him? Was she seeing someone else? Were they there now? His mind exploded with unanswerable questions. He’d get those answers. Tonight.
He did a few stretches to unwind, then showered. He was just buttoning up his green and white dress shirt when she knocked. Was she early, or was he running late?
Nope. She was early.
They had dinner at The Italian Place on First Avenue, attended a boring planning meeting where details were rehashed over and over, and walked home. The topic of desserts came up and Drinda put the committee off by promising samples at the next meeting. They’d put it to a vote. He wanted standard and traditional, but somehow, heknew he’d lose. Oh well, it wasn’t like he was taking a date to the dinner and dance.
“The snow is nice,” Drinda commented, looking up at the lazily drifting flakes.
“It’s okay.” He was tired of snow. It was only the beginning of February, and the snow was knee deep. He shoveled walks every day. Either his or for people who were unable to do their own. He hired a service for his properties rather than do it himself or depend on tenants, some of whom were too elderly to do it themselves. “I admit, it is pretty, but I could use a break from daily shoveling.”
“I hadn’t thought of that. I guess I’m lucky I don’t have to do my own.”
“I noticed you’ve been driving to work.” She’d gone from walking everywhere to taking her car. It was weird because while it was snowy, it wasn’t cold.
“Um. Ya. I’ve been sleeping late and taking the car shaves off time in the morning. It’s nice to just go to my attached garage and hop into the car. Boom. I’m at work and ready to make coffee.”
“I haven’t seen you walking much at all.”
“I’m-” she paused. “I’m doing yoga and static exercises right now. I … I like to switch things up.”
Her cheeks were pinker than the cold justified. He was trying to trust her but each half-answer and evasion amped up his unease and distrust.
“Makes sense. I guess.” She was up to something. They were dating, but not officially, just a few dinners here and there. And that near kiss. Was she seeing someone else? It seemed unlikely. In a town this small, gossip would out her in minutes. He was growing closer to her all the time. He was darn near in love. He stumbled at the thought.In love? With Drinda? The idea didn’t scare him as much as it should have.
“Shall we watch the movie at your place?” Neither of them had the morning shift. Drinda’s new baker took a couple mornings every week so she could sleep in past five.
“No!” She laughed.
It was the fakest laugh he’d ever heard.
“Let’s watch at your place.” She stuffed her hands deeper into her pockets and bunched hershoulders up.
He’d rather watch at her place where they could cuddle up on the couch together. His recliners were comfortable, but not at all intimate. He’d rather hold her hand or have her snuggled up to his side for two hours. “I prefer your couches,” he hinted.
“I had a long day. I’d really like to put my feet up.”
“I can rub them for you,” he persisted trying to figure out why she was being so insistent. If she was hiding something from him, the truth would come out. It always did. He banked his disappointment, and something close to but not quite anger. “My place it is.”
“I’ll just grab a snack and be right over. I won’t be more than five. I’d love a cup of tea if you’re offering.” She zipped inside and shut her door.
