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“You don’t have to,” Blaine said, but he looked at her with keen interest from underneath the brim of that super-sexy cowboy hat.
“I want to.” Tam finished her salad and pushed the plate to the edge of the table so the waiter could take it. “I don’t do too bad, actually. I’ll hit a million dollars in revenue in the next month or so, if sales keep up as they have so far this year.”
Blaine didn’t look one ounce surprised. “Of course you will.”
“I spend a lot on supplies and stuff,” she said. “But it’s a good income on top of that.” Her smile faltered, as an intense sadness hit her out of nowhere.
“Hey,” Blaine said, reaching for her hand. “What just happened inside your head?”
Tam put on a brave smile, because she didn’t cry over just anything. Very few things, actually. “I just suddenly thought of Gran.” She shook her head, her curls flopping against her shoulders. She hated curling her hair, but it was what women who went out with handsome men did, so Tam had done it.
“I live in her house,” she said. “I don’t have a mortgage. She gave it to me when she passed away.” Those darn emotions choked her again, and Tam reached for her glass of fizzy cola. Blaine released her hand and let her hide behind drinking for a moment, and she appreciated that.
“You’re much farther ahead than I am,” Blaine said.
“How do you mean?” she asked.
“I live with three of my brothers,” he said. “Sometimes I wonder what it would be like to live alone.”
“It’s not that great,” Tam said before she could stop herself.
She looked up as the waiter arrived, thankfully bringing them another basket of bread and taking her salad plate with, “Your food is coming up right now. Be right back.”
“You’ve wanted to get married for a long time,” Blaine said.
Tam whipped her attention back to him, her eyes wide. “That wasn’t even a question.”
“Should it have been?” He calmly reached for his drink too, but he’d opted for no carbonation. He hadn’t lectured her about the negative effects of soda either, and Tam was counting that as a win.
“I guess not,” she said, mildly annoyed. “I don’t know about this dating-your-best-friend thing.”
Blaine looked like she’d thrown her cola in his face. “What does that mean?”
Tam’s desperation rose up, and she leaned forward. She reached across the table and took his hand in hers. A thrill ran down her spine when she initiated the contact, as he usually touched her first.
“I just mean…you already know all this stuff about me. All my hopes and dreams and just…everything. What are we supposed to talk about?”
“We’ve never had a problem finding things to talk about,” he said.
“You’re not worried about it even a little bit?”
“No,” he said. “Not even a little bit.” He squeezed her hand and smiled at her. “Now, you want to get married.”
“Yes,” she said in a deadpan.
“You have a plan for it?”
“Define plan.”
“Where you want to have it, the colors of the bridesmaids’ dresses. All of that.”
“I mean, who doesn’t?”
He smiled at her in such a genuine way that Tam didn’t feel stupid for having a file folder with all of her wedding plans in it. Every once in a while, she leafed through a bridal magazine and ripped out pictures of the dresses she liked.
She’d been putting together her dream wedding when Hayes had pulled the plug on the engagement, and she’d destroyed her entire drawer of wedding planning papers, guides, and ideas.
“Do you…is it the same wedding as what you would’ve had with Hayes?” he asked, and Tam saw the vulnerability in his eyes.
