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“What a surprise,” he murmured, standing and swinging his leg off the bike with a grown.
A surprise. Not a pleasant surprise or an anything surprise, just… a surprise.
“Yeah, I bet it is,” she agreed, but the breeze picked up, making the words shiver.
He looked at her, sweeping up and down from her short raincoat to her running shoes.
“What the hell are you wearing?” he asked, definitely frowning.
“Just clothes,” she said, her idea of taking a stab at normal feeling like a stupid idea now.
“Why would you wear summer clothes when it’s practically winter,” he grumbled, hands on his hips.
“Excuse me, but it slipped my mind that November in Chicago is like the Ice Age,” she said with a hefty amount of snark.
“At the very least, I would have thought you’d be in some kind of wool pants and tiny boots with little pompoms on them,” he said, his eyes taking in her shoes again. “Not mesh running shoes. I bet the winds blowing right through those.”
She smiled, not caring that the wind was blowing through all her layers.
“Tiny boots with little pompoms? I have an exact pair of those back in Seattle,” she admitted.
“So why aren’t you wearing them?” he asked with a frown.
“I wanted to… I was trying… fuck,” she finished, pulling the turtleneck higher under her chin. “Look, I’m here because I care about you. A lot. I care about you very much, and I… didn’t like how we left things. Back in Seattle.”
Okay, that was lame. But at least it was a start.
He stared at her with a hint of a smile on his lips. It set something smoldering in her belly.
“So you plan of action was to show up dressed like a weirdo?” he asked with a laugh.
“I don’t look like a weirdo,” she countered.
“You do for you. I like your retro fashion sense. Why change it?”
A mix of emotions flooded through her, relief being the top one.
“Thank God, because these jeans just feel… blech!”
“So why wear them?” he asked, stepping closer to her and lifting her sweat to inspect them. Then lifting the three t-shirts under the sweater. “Wow, you really layered up.”
She chuckled when he tugged on a belt loop.
“I slept in the car last night and the blanket I bought at a thrift shop wasn’t warm enough,” she replied.
“You slept in this car?” he asked, looking at her with surprised.
“Yeah. I got here a few nights ago, but when I realized I had no way of knowing when you’d get here, I decided I’d just… camp on your doorstep.”
“Wow, that’s impressive,” he murmured, looking back at the jeans. “Yeah, these aren’t even sexy jeans. So why not just be you?”
“Because,” she began, then realized she’d just have to put it all out there. “Because I want you in my life. When I said I cared about you, I really I want to see of you and I… if we can work. And if that means moving to Chicago, then I want to do that. I know how much your son means to you, and I wanted to fit into your lives here,” she finished. Saying it out loud now felt a lot dumber than when she’d had the idea.
“And this is your idea of stepmom fashion?” he asked.
“Not anymore,” she grumbled. “But I want some credit for at least trying.”
His hands moved to grip her waist and pull her against him.
