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Is it my wishful thinking or is that regret in his eyes?
“I’m headed out of town for a bit,” he explains. “So I won’t be here Friday.”
“Oh.” A normal person would ask where he’s going but I’m still too stung from his rejection.
“But I don’t…” He stops and runs his fingers through his hair.
Is he as flustered as I am?
“Nothing is set in stone. I don’t have to leave for my trip right now,” he continues. With more conviction in his tone, he adds, “Ishouldwait a day or two and make sure Griff gets your car back to you in one piece.”
My eyes widen. “You’re going to postpone your trip to check on my car?” I ask slowly.
“My dates are flexible.” He turns and stares at the heavy drapery covering the windows. “Just an annual ride I take.”
“Must be nice to come and go as you please.” Any time off I’m able to schedule is spent with Libby at home.
Too late, I realize my comment sounded bitter. “I don’t get a lot of vacation time,” I hurry to add.
Who cares if he thinks you’re a bitch? He said no to dinner.
“How about Friday night?” he asks.
“What about it?”
He raises his eyebrows, his gaze straying toward the kitchen behind me. “Dinner? You don’t owe me anything, though. We can go out.”
Gee, when you say it so enthusiastically…
“You’re my hero.” I force a smile. “You literally saved my day.”
“Trust me, I’m no one’s savior.”
Awkward.What am I supposed to do, argue that he is indeed a hero?
“Well, I definitely owe you a meal,” I say in a cheery tone to smooth over the uncomfortable silence. “Is there anything you don’t like? Or you’re allergic to?”
“Nope.” He backs away. “What time works for you?”
“Seven? It’ll give me a chance to change and start cooking.”
“Really, Emily, you don’t have to—”
“I want to.” Suddenly, the awkward way we met this morning returns to mind. “Today was hard for me. Even before my car crapped out and left me stranded. I really appreciate all you’ve done to make it easier.”
Several emotions seem to ripple over his expression—longing, sadness, and maybe guilt all make an appearance. “It was no problem, Emily.”
We stand there, staring at each other. For someone who said he couldn’t stay long, he doesn’t seem to be in any hurry to leave.
“Oh. Your car.” He pulls out his phone. “Griff says it’s the starter. He can fix it but it’s going to take a day or two to get the part.”
“Damn.” I bite my thumbnail. How the hell am I going to get to work again tomorrow?
“He’s stopping by in a few minutes to drop off a car for you to borrow.”
“What? Don’t I need to fill out some paperwork? Give him my license or something?”
“It’s not like that. He’s not a rental agency. It’s just a car his shop loans out.” He coughs and looks away. “To friends and family.”
