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For three days Ryan kept his distance from Zoe while he processed all he’d learned about her background. He avoided the campaign headquarters when he knew she was volunteering and resisted the temptation to stop into Second Chance Treasures to say hello.
But he couldn’t stop his thoughts from lingering on the memory of their kiss or dwelling on the foolish longing to learn about her childhood and the sort of music she enjoyed.
Yesterday he’d sent her a text, reminding her about their Saturday night date. She’d tried to convince him to let her meet him at the restaurant where they were eating, but now that he knew where she lived, he intended to pick her up. If he told her they were eating at his place, he doubted she’d come. And she’d be right to resist. He intended to lull her with expensive wine and delicious food before encouraging her to spill all her secrets.
Ryan parked near the back door of Zoe’s store and glanced at the time. He was five minutes early. An uncomfortable anxiety gripped him as he exited the car and went to collect her. When was the last time going on a date with a woman had made him nervous? The answer disturbed him as much as the turmoil in his gut. Never. His reaction to Zoe was unique in his life.
Ryan knew part of his disquiet was based on a decision he’d made earlier that day. The wisdom of it utterly escaped him, but he was starting to realize that his behavior when it came to Zoe deviated from logic.
She answered the door casually dressed in a gray sweater and slim jeans. Her gaze roved over him; his jeans and white button-down shirt were similarly casual. She frowned.
“You look beautiful,” he remarked, glad he’d shoved his hands into his pockets before she’d appeared. After being apart from her these last few days, the need to kiss her had grown stronger.
“Where are we headed?”
“It’s a surprise.”
“I don’t like surprises.”
“Not even good ones?”
She lapsed into silence and let him escort her to the passenger side of his car.
The drive to his house took less than ten minutes. She looked relaxed and calm as he guided the car down King Street, but the minute he turned onto an obvious residential avenue, she sat straighter.
“Where are we going?”
“Dinner.”
“Yes, but where?”
“My house.” He glanced in her direction as he slowed and parked beside the curb. “A friend of mine planned a wonderful menu especially for us.”
“This is yours?” She stared at the house. “Funny, you don’t strike me as a Queen Anne.”
“The inside is more modern.” Suddenly he was eager to show it off.
She looked concerned. “Not too modern, I hope.”
“You’ll see.”
The full tour took them nearly thirty minutes. Ryan paid careful attention to her every expression as she strolled through the rooms, missing none of the crown moldings or the wood inlays in the living-and dining-room floors. Her eyebrows rose as she assessed his minimalist styling, modern light fixtures and enormous upstairs bedrooms.
“Come outside and see the pool,” he coaxed, drawing her onto the back porch.
“This is really beautiful back here. How big is the lot?”
“A quarter acre.”
“That’s big for downtown Charleston.”
“Come this way. I have something else to show you.” He led the way along the porch to the first of his guest apartments. “The previous owners created two one-bedroom units back here that they leased out. I use them when family or friends come from out of town.” He opened the first door and gestured her inside.
“This is nice,” Zoe commented, her gaze sweeping over the open galley kitchen, cozy navy sofa and high ceilings. “I imagine your guests enjoy the separate space.”
“It’s yours for as long as you need it.”
“What?” She gaped at him.
