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“Got you a latte,” he said. “Your name is on the side.”
I hadn’t finished my coffee.
I still reached for the cup withRayscribbled on it.
I forgave the Starbuck’s barista for missing the “e” on my name after I sipped.
I then asked, “You put Cleo in your Porsche?”
“Sure,” he replied.
I was getting closer to thatforever.
“I called Luna,” I announced.
He stopped investigating my kitchen at the same time pulling out things he needed from where he found them and looked at me. His eyes swung up to the gel eye mask on my forehead, his lips tipped up, then those delightful blue-grays came to mine.
“Yeah?” he asked.
“She wants you to come over for dinner tomorrow.”
He didn’t wince or go stiff, or visibly freak out in any way at this alarmingly quick escalation in our relationship after our first very bad/incredibly awesome date.
Nope.
He started opening and closing cupboards again, asking, “What time?”
“Um…after we hit Dream’s Intervention.”
That got his attention.
He looked at me again. “Sorry?”
“You’re invited.”
“To the intervention of a woman I barely met…once?”
“Okay, Mr. Jackson, it’s time I came clean.”
He moved to the counter opposite me and settled his weight into his hands on the edge, leveling his gaze on me.
Man, he looked good in my kitchen.
“About what?” he asked.
“You see, I’m a little nuts.”
“That’s not news.”
“And Luna is a little nuts.”
“That isn’t really news either.”
“And seeing as Scott and Louise made her, they’re a little nuts.”
“Right.”
“And I told you they unofficially adopted me.”
