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“Closer.” I smirk, lining up my cards into rows of three.
Koen lifts an eyebrow. “Do you live in the store?”
“Not quite.” I jerk my head toward the back door while sliding off the stool.
He follows me.
“Voila,” I say, opening the door to the chilly night under a clear sky.
“That’s your Airstream?”
“Yes. Sort of.” I don’t elaborate on the semantics.
“And we’re playing cards in the store?”
I laugh. “Less than an hour ago, I thought you were going to rob me.”
Koen inspects me with a curious gaze for a few seconds. “Listen, I should go, but I’ve enjoyed our chance encounter.” He saunters back toward the counter and slips on his jacket.
I gather the cards, take the glasses to the back room, and load them into the dishwasher. When I return, Koen’s waiting by the door with his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and Scrot at his side.
“I’d still like to take you to dinner next weekend if you’re interested.”
I slide my phone from my pocket. It’s been twelve years since I’ve felt this kind of instant chemistry. Twelve years of dormant butterflies in my tummy waiting to be resurrected. “I’d like that too.”
We exchange numbers, and I unlock the door.
He bites his lips together as if he’s fighting a grin.
“What?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I’m just thinking.”
“Do I want to know what you’re thinking?”
“I’m thinking, ‘Well done, Grandpa. Well done.’”
I blush. Oh yeah, those butterflies are very much alive. “Thanks for not robbing me tonight.”
Koen adjusts his hat and zips his hoodie to the top before shooting me a mischievous grin. “You’re welcome.”
He’s sexy and playful. I don’t want him to leave, but he’s opening the door. I try to be cool. We just met. I should say goodnight.
“Goodnight,” he says for the both of us since I’m too busy thinking of doing something impulsive, even for me.
Five seconds later, I step outside. “Hey?”
He turns, already halfway to his truck.
“I’ve thought about it and … maybe we could kiss.” I can barely breathe. Bravery is exhausting.
“You’re right, it’s too soon. But if it makes you feel better, I’ve already kissed you a dozen different ways in my mind.”
Dead.
A woman with more dignity would turn around, go inside, and wait for the next date. Regroup and play hard to get.
I’m not that woman.
