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“Okay, that’s the one.”
Robin chuckled and met his gaze in the mirror. “You said that about the last one.”
“I’m not too proud to admit when I’m wrong. I don’t know if it’s the red or the”—he waved a finger toward her leg—“style of the dress, but this is definitely better.”
Robin agreed. The blue one was pretty, but this red one was dazzling even on the hanger. Instead of vocalizing her agreement, however, she shrugged just to mess with him. “It’s okay. I’ll go try on the others.”
Jack groaned. “Um, you know what? I think I’m gonna take off.”
“You are? Why?”
“Because if every dress is this much better than the one before it, I’m pretty sure you’re gonna kill me by the end of this. And I’m on the clock, so I shouldn’t be here anyway.”
Her stomach fluttered as he stood from the chair and returned it to its original spot against a wall.
“Okay. Well, thanks for the confidence boost.”
He gave her a wry grin. “Right, right. Because if there’s one thing you lack, Robin McBride, it’s confidence.”
“Even confident women enjoy compliments,” she replied with a raised chin.
Jack looked around the otherwise empty store, then rested his free hand on his duty belt and stalked toward her. “In that case, you’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen, and I can’t wait to see which of these amazing dresses you pick for the ball.”
And then, as if the man were trying to kill her instead of the other way around, he released his belt and reached for her hand, bowing over it before kissing the back. It was brief—too brief—but he’d held her eyes as he did it, and the promise in his made the moment stretch far longer than it should have.
She wouldn’t be surprised if he heard how loudly her heart was thumping as he let go of her hand, and she felt her cheeks grow warm under his intense gaze. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He dipped his chin, took one more lingering look at her in the shiny red dress, then headed for the door. But just before he exited, he turned and narrowed his eyes at her.
“What?” she asked, tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, embarrassed that he’d caught her watching him walk away.
“Have dinner with me. Next week. Before the ball.”
“Dinner?”
“Yes. A date. You said you’d say yes if—”
“Yes,” she said quickly, then chuckled at herself for interrupting him. Did that seem overly eager? Because she was.
Jack’s appearance at the boutique and his subsequent flirting had been exactly the sign she’d hoped for to convince her this was okay. Or, more specifically, the fact that all thoughts of fearing that it wasn’t were noticeably absent, and that had to mean something. She’d promised Holly she’d let him in, so here she was, doing just that.
“Great,” he said, his smile lighting up his whole face. “I’m working this weekend, so is an early dinner on Monday night okay?”
“That would be perfect. I’ll ask Holly to watch Abby. Where are we going?”
“I’ll handle that part.” Then he pushed open the door and called over his shoulder, “See you later, neighbor.”
* * *
Jack hadn’t givenRobin any clues as to where they were going for their dinner date, so when he showed up to pick her up at six on Monday evening, she sent up a quick prayer that her comfortable heels, black skinny jeans, and red V-neck sweater would be appropriate for wherever it was.
“Hi,” she said breathlessly when she answered the door.
Jack stood on her front porch wearing a black button-down shirt with the sleeves cuffed up around his strong forearms and a pair of dark jeans. It seemed her outfit was appropriate, but as she reached for her coat on the rack by the door, she couldn’t help but wonder why he hadn’t worn a coat himself. It was freezing, and she’d heard they might get their first snow of the season tonight.
“Aren’t you cold?” she asked as she bundled up in her coat, scarf, and gloves before joining him on the porch.
“Yes. But I didn’t think I needed to get all my winter gear on just to walk next door.”
