Page 48 of Where the Music Grows

She steps out wearing a pair of blue capris and a pretty blouse. She’s got on heels that make her legs look impossibly long.

“Hi,” I say.

Her hair’s down in loose waves, and she’s wearing makeup.

“You clean up nice,” she says, eyeing me up and down.

I swallow. “You’re...yeah.” Smooth, Jack. Real smooth. I clear my throat. “Beautiful.”

“Thank you.” She grins and grabs a small purse. “Ready?”

Turns out, heels and rural properties don’t mix. The steppingstones from her tiny house to the driveway are spaced just far enough apart to be awkward.

Jinnie pauses at the first gap, frowning. “I may have miscalculated.”

“I could carry you.”

She snorts. “Not a chance.”

With a determined breath, she launches herself across. Her landing wobbles, and I catch her elbow to steady her.

“This is ridiculous.” She laughs, gripping my arm.

“Never worn heels before?”

“Owned them for three years. Worn them twice.” She eyes the next gap. “This was a terrible idea. I don’t look very graceful right now, do I?”

“You look perfect,” I say.

We make it to the truck in a series of ungainly leaps and near-misses, both of us laughing like idiots by the end. Jinnie collapses into the passenger seat with a dramatic sigh.

“And this is why I never wear these.”

“I like them,” I tell her. “A lot.”

“Thanks. I guess I’ve ruined the idea I wear this kind of thing all the time.”

“I like this, but I also think you look just fine in your work clothes.”

“Thank you.”

“So, I wish I could say I planned a great dinner, but that’s not true. Your aunt made reservations for us at a place called Bella Sera.”

Her head whips around. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah. Is that bad?”

“No, not at all, but I thought you said not fancy.”

I shrug. “If it’s a good restaurant then I’m good with it.”

“Are you sure? It’s kind of expensive.”

“I made some killer tips last night,” I tell her as I drive down the road. “I played our song.”

“Our song?”

“The one you helped me iron out. It was a huge hit. The crowd went crazy.”