AllFreeNovel
Share Us
She takes the Yankees hat from my hands, tosses it back onto the shelf, and slips the Mets hat on. “I think it’s time for a change.”
I nod in agreement. I can feel the tension from a moment earlier lift. “That hat looks good on you.”
Putting one hand on her hip and one behind her head, she wiggles her hips for me, showing off. “Why, thank you, kind sir.”
“Come on. I’ll buy the hat after that little show.”
Back out on the street, she hooks her arm with mine as we stroll. I’ve been meaning to tell her something but haven’t found the right time. I just say it because I hate not being open with her.
“So I was asked out yesterday.” I wait for her reaction.
She doesn’t look my way but busies herself with the small shopping bag in her hand. “Oh yeah?” She’s trying for indifference, but I see through her. We may not know every secret about each other, but we’ve learned to read each other pretty well.
“What do you think about that?”
“That’s kind of forward of a woman to ask you out.”
I nudge her. “You know what I mean.”
She points across the street. “You want a coffee?”
I point at a bistro next to the coffee shop. “You want food and a drink?”
That makes her laugh. “I can eat.”
“Good, because I can drink.”
We walk into the little café and ask for a table outside. It’s midafternoon, and the crowd reflects that in their business attire. I met her at her work because she had a half day, and we’ve been walking around shopping for the last two hours.
“It feels good to sit down. These shoes are not made for walking.” Her eyes meet mine, and she adds, “Ironically.” She takes her hat off and tucks it into her purse.
“No, but they’re sexy on you so they’re worth the pain, right?”
She gives me a mischievous smile, and a pale pink colors her cheeks. Someone else might think it’s from the heat, but I know different. “Always with the compliments.” She leans down to rub her ankle and says, “Yes, they are sexy, which was the initial appeal, but I only wear them to work, so I don’t think they were one of my best purchases.”
Leaning down, I lift her ankle onto my thigh and rub gently. “Then wear them for their intended purpose.”
She watches as I caress and massage. Resting her elbows on the table, she asks, “And what is their intended purpose?”
“Is this where I’m supposed to give you my best line?” Her body is relaxing before me, her pretty eyes looking right back into mine.
“No, this is where—”
“Hi, can I start you off with drinks?” The server asks. Charlie drops her foot to the ground, the intimate moment we were sharing interrupted.
I should look at the server, but I’m too fascinated by the emotions playing in Charlie’s eyes to look away. I order wine. “Do you have Rombauer Carneros Chardonnay?”
“I believe we do. Let me look that up,” the server replies, turning her attention to the menu. “Yes, we carry that. Two glasses?”
“The bottle, please.”
“Would you like to hear the specials tonight?”
I break my stare from Charlie and look up. “I’m feeling adventurous. Surprise me with the special. Charlie?”
“I’ll have one of your specials, too. You decide.”
The server smiles and then says, “You won’t regret it. They’re both delicious. I’ll be right back with your wine.”
I want to pick up where we left off, but something tells me that ankle massages and the topic of sexy shoes and their intended purposes are over. We sit in amiable silence until the wine is uncorked and poured.
After a sip, she says, “Tell me about this date.” She’s not looking at me, and it makes me wonder if me dating really does bother her.
I lean forward, wanting her eyes back on me. As soon as she looks my way, I say, “I never said I was going.” I take a sip—okay, it’s a gulp—and hold eye contact.
“Why wouldn’t you go? You don’t like the desperate type?”
That earns a solid laugh from me, and a little giggle from her. “If I went out with every woman who asked, I’d never get to spend time with you.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere.”
“Apparently not,” I say, raising an eyebrow.
She squirms a little under my gaze, but I’m just speaking the truth. We’ve gotten so close over the last couple of months, yet we still aren’t talking about what we are to each other or want to be.
She turns back to face the street, sipping her wine nervously, or what I like to call jealousy. I can see it in the way her eyes study every woman who glances my way. I can see it in how she tries to pretend I didn’t make that dig at our relationship, at us, and her avoidance of becoming more than friends with me.
