Page 9 of Teach Me How

I realize he’s staring at me with a grin on his face. That rugged, charming farm boy face. Gray eyes. Messy hair. Scruffy jaw.

He makes me ten types of nervous. I clear my throat. “Sorry, what?”

He chuckles, leaning on the counter so we’re at eye level. “I said, how long have you been working here?”

“Two months.”

He tilts his head. “You like it?”

Not really. Sheila’s great though. Funny as hell. I give him my patented cheerful smile, best mask around. “Yeah. It’s been good.”

He glances at my suit jacket, gaze lingering on my hips. “They make you dress up like that?”

I tug self-consciously at my pencil skirt. “Yeah. Business formal.”

He stands at his full height, big hands gripping the edge of the counter. He tips his head. “It’s a good look for you. Suits you.” He grins. “I always thought you looked good in whatever you had on. Especially that cheerleader uniform.”

My cheeks heat. Is he flirting? I think he’s flirting. This is where things have always broken down for me. I more or less lucked into Jonah. The fact that I was innocent and awkward was part of my appeal to him. But out in the wild, innocent and awkward doesn’t go very far. It’s my turn to say something, so I scrounge around for the first thing that comes to mind. “It was a dance uniform.”

“Hm?”

“A dance uniform. I was on the dance team.”

He laughs. “Whichever. Still looked good.”

I’m rescued from having to respond when Sheila waltzes back in. She proceeds to engage Tyson in a conversation that has both of them laughing. If there wasn’t a thirty-year age gap, I’d say she was flirting.

When he’s gone, she turns to me with a sheepish smile. “Didn’t mean to step on your toes, just seemed like you needed rescuing.”

I sigh, leaning back on the counter. “I was floundering. Was he flirting with me?”

Sheila laughs. “Oh, honey.”

“He wasn’t?”

She shakes her head. “He was. He most certainly was.”

“I screwed it up.”

She laughs. “I don’t think Tyson is the kind of man you can mess things up with.” She laughs. “He’d date a fence post if it was pretty enough.”

I gesture at the place where Tyson was standing. “How do you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Interact with a guy like that. You make it look easy.”

She grins, her crooked canine showing. “That’s because I got nothing to lose.”

“Is that the key?”

“To confidence?” She tilts her head. “I guess maybe it is. Realizing a busted heart ain’t gonna kill you.”

I rest my elbows on the counter and stare out at the lobby. “I wish I could believe that.”

She stands next to me, leaning on her elbows. “You got plenty of time, honey. I can’t tell you how to live your life. But I know what I’d do if I could get in the time machine and travel back.”

I turn, leaning on my hip. “What’s that?”

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