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He coughs. “Well, we can call it a rendezvous if you prefer.”
I don’t care what we name it, a date or a rendezvous. I’m elated. Fire thrums through me. I rock back and forth on my feet again.
“And what are we doing for this rendezvous? That’snota date.”I raise one brow at him.
I’ll need to change.Goodness. I’m going on a date, which is not a date, but is so a date, with Matthew.
“It’s a secret,” he whispers conspiratorially.
“I’ve never had a secret surprise date before.” I haven’t been on a proper date since college. I search the closet, trying to find the perfect spot of color for the occasion. “What should I wear?”
He ignores my question.“What do you mean no surprise dates?”
“The only surprises I ever get are when my mother shows up at eight o’clock on a Saturday morning with a last-minute invitation to one of her many social events.” I laugh to lighten the mood.
“What about birthdays?” A smidge of concern hangs on his question.
“Usually planned months in advance.” I don’t want to think about Socialite Molly. “Okay, no more chitchat. I have to get ready for a rendezvous!”
“So do I.” He cracks a smile and grabs a clean shirt from his side of the closet.
Twenty minutes later, I enter the living room. A pink floral-print Rodarte midi dress with cream-colored flowers hangs off my shoulders. Since I don’t know what we’re doing, I threw on a pair of boy shorts underneath just in case. Matthew sits on the couch, engrossed in today’s crossword.
I admire the crease running across his forehead. It would be nice to see him like this on a random weekday. Maybe his hair is shaggy after a long day at work.A book rests beside him as a fire crackles.
The fantasy is achingly beautiful and bittersweet.
Is there a reality in which Matthew and I could like each other?
And we could be real?
And I could see him curled up on his couch, petting Bear, and sharing longing glances with me?
Matthew drops his pen into his lap and stands quickly, tossing his newspaper onto the chair. “Molly.Wow.”
My skin is probably flaring so much that it’s blending into the fabric of my dress. “Is this okay?”
“Flawless.” His gaze lingers for a long time, on my body, on my hair, on me. “As always.”
The compliment feels genuine, even if it’s grandiose.Am I seriously attracting him right now?
I must be.
I may not be the most experienced lady, but I’m pretty sure his eyes are doing that darkening thing again.
“You look really handsome too.”
“Shall we head out on our rendezvous, milady?” Matthew says in an indiscernible accent. He grins and stretches one of his arms out in an overly dramatic gesture.
I love this.
I pinch the edges of my dress and bend, feigning a curtsy. “That would be most delightful.”
As he approaches, my breath catches in my throat. He’s nothing like the fops I grew up with. Matthew’s rugged and manly. His cologne engulfs me, making my knees weak.
As if it’s second nature, I entwine my hand with his outstretched one, and we head out.
We’ve done countless activities over the last two weeks, but this one feels special.Maybe it is.
