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My boss’s hands clench on the steering wheel.
It’s funny… I’ve been so stressed about this date all day. So paranoid and unhappy, second guessing everything, beating myself up for making such bad decisions—but the second Kingston rang my doorbell, his low voice rumbling through the intercom, all those cares drifted away.
I was so thrilled to see him.
I’mstillthrilled to see him. Right here in the flesh, driving me to our first would-be date. Smelling like the centerfold of a fancy men’s magazine.
God, I just want to stick my nose in the crook of his neck and inhale. Just want to climb inside his shirt and live there like a baby kangaroo, pressed up against his heated skin.
“It’s your shirt,” I murmur when I can trust myself not to break into giggles. “You’re wearing your work shirt. You should change when you take your lady out.”
My boss straightens, affronted. “It’s fresh on. I showered after work.”
“I know, but still. A different color—”
“I’ve onlygotone color.” He sounds so pained, and I can’t hold it in any longer. I sputter out a laugh, and after a short pause, Kingston shoots me a strained smile.
“Got it,” he says, thumbs drumming on the steering wheel. “I’ll buy more shirts.Differentshirts. Anything else?”
“Nope.” I sink back against the warm leather of my seat, smiling out at the first stars as they wink high in the sky. The sun’s setting, the valley’s warm but not baking hot, and I’m wearing a pretty flowered sundress that I stuffed in a drawer once and forgot all about until today. I feel like a princess. “So far, so excellent.”
Oh, Kingston likes that. His smile widens, his eyes crinkling at the corners, and it’s a good thing he’s watching the road or else he’d see me panting after him like a little beast.
Kingston Holtneversmiles. But when he does?
Empires could fall.
“You smell nice,” I say, because I love paying this man compliments. Love seeing him puff up all pleased. “I like your cologne. And you looked so handsome back there on my stoop. Like a hero from a movie. When I came downstairs, I thought I might swoon.”
It’s Kingston’s turn to choke out a laugh, but he can’t hide his pleasure at my words. A faint flush dusts his cheekbones, and his eyes sparkle as they watch the road.
“Not likely, Danielle.”
I dare to poke his shoulder. “WellIshould know.”
A few minutes later, we pull into a dirt parking lot, surrounded by trucks and cars and bikes from other locals looking to blow off steam.
It’s midweek, and Beaver Creek ain’t a big county. Still, we know how to let loose, and a barn party’s the best way. Don’t need big numbers when you’ve got high spirits.
And I’m so glad this is what Kingston meant when he said dinner and dancing: food trucks and beer coolers and a good ol’ boot-stomping, hell-raising country band.
No worrying about which fork to use or how to dance to fancy music. No worrying about whether my outfit looks cheap. NowthisI can do.
“Five stars!” I crow, leaping down from the truck before Kingston makes it all the way around the hood to help me. He scowls and I poke out my tongue, slamming the passenger door shut. “I love a barn dance.”
“I’d have helped you down,” he says, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. It’s kinda cute—he seems genuinely put out that he couldn’t help me down from the truck.
“I managed just fine. Did you know that I’m a grown woman? I tie my own shoe laces and everything.”
My boss looks heavenward, but he softens when I approach and tuck my hand in the crook of his elbow. We turn away from the truck, toward the lights and music.
“I’d have lifted you down,” Kingston says as we wander across the packed dirt toward all the chaos. “That’s the point, Danielle. Lifting you down would be a treat.”
Huh. Guess we’re practicing my wife skills too, because I never considered that. WouldIlike it? Feeling Kingston’s big hands on my waist, lifting me down like I weigh less than a feather?
Oooh. Definitely.
Okay, I’m never leaping out early again.
