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Kris chuckled at her ‘playing it cool’ response.
Yes. Chez Brock.
Looking forward to it.
From that point forward, Kris could think of nothing else but his date with Rainy. He flew back on Friday night. It was late when he walked into the kitchen and set the elk out to thaw. It had been frozen in a red wine marinade and would be perfect for the grill the next day.
When he climbed into bed that night, he toned down his excitement by reminding himself that he’d see her tomorrow.
Saturday morning, he hoped to get a glimpse of her but he noted her car wasn’t there. His heart sank. There could be a million different reasons for her not being home but all he could think about was the possibility of her being out with someone else. A thread of jealousy swept through him. He couldn’t understand the feeling since he’d barely met the girl. Somehow in that brief meeting she’d wormed her way inside of him. If he wasn’t careful, she’d make a home in his heart.
Rather than stress out, he texted her to find out where she was off to. Maybe she was at the café getting a Bloody Maven. If that were the case, he’d be happy to join her.
At work. Stupid emergency.
He hated that her weekends were being eaten up by the job as well.
I’ll see you tonight.
Their scheduled time to meet approached. He paced the living room waiting for her car to pull into the driveway but it didn’t. Moments later, a new text came in.
Still at work. Sorry.
His stomach twisted in knots. Not from hunger but from disappointment.
No worries. I’ll wait.
And wait he did. Just an hour outside of midnight, the headlights of her car bathed his house. He walked out front to greet her.
When she got out of her car, she looked positively wiped out. She glanced at him with tears in her eyes.
“Hey.” He rushed to her.
“I’m so sorry about dinner.” She ran her hand through her long hair. Dressed in slacks and a silky blouse, she was a far cry from the Rainy McAllister that picked up a guitar and sang her way into his heart.
“Don’t worry about dinner.” He set his hand on her shoulder. “How are you?”
“I feel like I just got out of prison. I think I’ve made a horrible mistake.”
“Okay,” he said softly. He drew her close to him and hugged her.
“Sorry,” she said, pulling back. “I’m not usually such a complainer.”
“You have to be exhausted.” His voice was calm and steady.
“I am, but I’m still interested in what you wanted to talk to me about. Your texts were intriguing.”
He debated his options. He could tell her he wanted to record her songs, or he could let her go to sleep. Only one option kept her there with him but could he be that selfish when she looked so wiped out?
The answer was yes because when it came to Rainy, he wanted to be selfish.
“I don’t want to keep you but… I think we want to buy some of your tunes. I don’t know how much you make at your current gigs, but I think we can give you an option. That’s what I was going to share with you at dinner. Why don’t you go and get some sleep. We can talk about it tomorrow.”
She looked up at him with interest in her eyes. “You still have that dinner?” she asked.
“Yes of course.” He checked his watch. “It’s eleven-forty at night. Are you sure you don’t need to go to bed?”
“Bed sounds great, but so does food.”
