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Yesterday had been an absolute blast. She’d had so much fun. At first watching the Barons playing—their competitive streak was a hoot. Then getting involved herself. By the end of the night, she’d gotten much better at corn hole as well as horseshoes and almost peed in her pants from laughing when the adults went into the bounce house after the event was officially shut down.
Despite the sheer smell of money coming from every corner of the magnificent house and splendid grounds, this family laughed, and played, and teased and even fought, just like anyone else. As nervous as she’d felt the first little while in the massive home, it hadn’t taken her long to feel as though she’d known this family her whole life.
“You’re smiling.” A mug in hand, Joan sat down on the edge of the bed and blew on her morning brew.
“Am I?” She knew she was. Even if she was completely stumped as to what to wear this afternoon, she couldn’t help but grin at the memories of last night that replayed in her mind. Especially that unexpected hug after she’d dunked Adam, and the warmth of Craig’s breath whispering in her ear that sent tingles down her spine all the way to her toes.
“Okay, now you’re downright beaming. If you hadn’t been home before me last night, I’d say there’d been some hanky-panky making you smile.”
“Of course not.” She shook her head. Even if she had attended class with Craig a million years ago, she barely knew the guy. Heck, they weren’t even dating. Yet. Maybe.
“Now you’re frowning? What the heck is going on?”
“I don’t know what to wear.” That wasn’t the whole truth, but it was definitely enough.
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know.”
Perfectly arched brows buckled at the bridge of Joan’s nose. “What do you mean you don’t know?”
She fingered her black capris. Not as casual as shorts, not as warm as long pants. “He wouldn’t say.”
“He?Whohe?”
“Craig.” Maybe a denim skirt would be a good choice.
“Craig?” Deep-set lines between her roommate’s brows remained, then suddenly her eyes rounded wide. “Wait a minute. So now, you’re dating the guy who’s messing with your owls?”
“Not exactly dating, really. And he isn’t doing anything with the owls.”Yet.She pulled out a simple pale blue sleeveless dress from the closet and held it against her. “Do you think this is a good choice for an afternoon invitation?”
Joan glanced at the dress. “If you’re going to high tea, yeah. If you’re going to the zoo, not so much. And you’re skipping over the good stuff. How did you wind up going from an afternoon fundraiser to a secret rendezvous?”
“You’ve been reading too many romance novels. It’s not a rendezvous and it’s certainly not secret. I simply have no idea where we’re going. All he said is wear something comfortable.”
“Well, that doesn’t usually mean a dress.”
“But itiscomfortable.”
“For you, yes. But I doubt that’s what he had in mind.”
Kate sighed. “Maybe I’ll think better after I get some more coffee.”
“Some food wouldn’t hurt.” Joan pushed to her feet and placed her free hand on her friend’s back. “This isn’t rocket science. Your new jeans fit you like a glove and it will look great with that pale green top, the one that darkens your eyes.”
“You think?” She fingered the short sleeve blouse hanging in her closet.
“Yes, I think. And as soon as I get some food in you, you’re going to tell me all about this Baron that has turned your very competent brain into Swiss cheese.”
“There’s nothing to tell.” And if her friend believed that, Kate had a bridge in Brooklyn for sale really cheap.
Second-guessing himself was not something Craig did often, but ever since saying goodbye to Kate last night, he’d been doing just that. Why had he made such a big deal about keeping his plans a secret? What if she didn’t like his idea? What if she was expecting something fancier? More creative, or romantic? Not that she had any reason to expect romance from him, but still. And there he was, second-guessing his second-guesses.
Keys in hand, he sucked in a deep breath and reached for the front door just as his grandmother came up behind him.
“Another date?” She smiled.
For a second he considered telling her it wasn’t a date, and even though he hadn’t phrased it to Kate that way, he knew full well this was very much a date. “Sort of.”
