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By the time we pull up in front of the lodge, I’m worn out by the boys and their relentless questioning of why I’m wearing makeup and a dress. As soon as I park, they take off to find Lily and Liam, and I give myself a quick once-over in the rearview mirror. I suddenly feel silly. Maybe I am too dressed up. There’s no way Ethan won’t see through me. On the other hand, what’s to see if he could see through me? It’s not like I know what I want from him.
Forcing myself out of the car, I spot him standing next to Digger’s big truck, tossing the keys in the air.
When he sees me, his reaction tells me I have nothing to feel self-conscious about. He tosses the keys up and lets them fall to the ground right next to him. His mouth drops open and even though he’s got sunglasses on, I’m guessing his eyes are popping out of his head. Letting out a long whistle, he says, “You look like a Vogue cover.”
I offer a small curtsy. “You don’t look half bad yourself.”
In fact, he looks good. So good in a pair of jeans with a light blue linen button-down rolled up at the sleeves, and loafers. He’s effortlessly elegant, which is a characteristic you don’t find in many of the men in Gamble. In fact, I don’t think I’ve seen anyone around here pull off such a look.
Ethan opens the passenger door of Digger’s truck for me. “Have you eaten lunch?”
“I had a late breakfast with the boys,” I tell him.
After closing the door behind me, he hurries around to his side and gets in. Leaning over the backseat, he pulls out an adorable wicker picnic hamper. “Harper packed us some cheese and crackers, grapes, and shortbread in case we get peckish.”
“Shortbread? I’m guessing it’s Grandpa Jack’s,” I tell him. “In which case it’ll be the best shortbread you’ve ever tasted.”
“Really? Harper said yours is better.”
“I said the bestyou’veever had. Not the best there is.Mineisthe best.”
He puts the truck into reverse and angles around until he’s turned the opposite direction. “I don’t suppose you’d make me yours sometime.”
“I could be persuaded,” I tell him flirtatiously. “All it will cost you is some help at Costco today.”
“What kind of help are you looking for?” he asks, grinning at me.
“I’m doing the big shop today and I could use your muscles.”
“Conveniently, I happen to have some available.” He winks before turning on the sound system. The strains of a swing band fill the cab.
“I loved Squirrel Nut Zippers when I was a kid!” I tell him over the old-school music blasting through the speakers. “It always makes me want to dance.”
His foot hits the brake before shifting into park.
“What are you doing?”
“I thought you said you wanted to dance.” His hand is on the door handle. “Just as friends, of course.”
“Not here! Not now!” I sound as alarmed as I feel.
“Why not? We have time.”
“Don’t be silly, Ethan. What would people think if they saw us swing dancing in the parking lot?”
“If they had a brain in their head, they’d come out and join in.” He leaves his door open so the song “Suits” blasts from the speakers. Then he comes over to let me out. With a short bow, he takes my hand and spins me around in a circle that flings me to arm’s length.
I barely keep my balance while releasing a squeal of surprise. Ethan really knows what he’s doing. Way more than I do. Pulling me back into his arms, we whirl around in a circle before he says, “It’s time to dip!”
Before I can tense up, he pulls me close, placing one hand on the small of my back and dropping me so low I’m worried my head might hit the ground. Laughter explodes out of my mouth as I hang there in the air.
Ethan pulls me up as fast as he dropped me and spins me out again. “How is it that you know how to do this?”
“My parents had a rule when I was a kid. I had to play at least one instrument, one sport, and take one kind of dancing lesson.”
“You’re kidding? That’s so cool!” I’m huffing and puffing as we continue to shake our moneymakers. The song stops just as Ethan pulls me into his chest. He holds onto me like we’re locked in a lovers’ embrace, and it’s positively delicious. The feeling of his body against mine, the scent of his aftershave, the boyish grin on his face.
Staring down at me, he croons, “If this were a date, I’d be kissing you right now.”
