Page 12 of Serendipity

“It was probably Jenna’s idea.”

She gasps. “How’d you know?”

I chuckle. “Just a guess.”

“I’m so sorry you had to pick me up.”

“Really? You think I’m bothered? It’s never a burden.”

“Right. Like you weren’t sleeping soundly at midnight?”

I was, but I’m not going to admit that. Instead, I reach for her hand and give her a little squeeze. “Not bothered, honey.”

She offers me a small smile in return and I grin at the windshield. Damn, but she’s beautiful.

When I pull into her driveway, she looks at the house for a few seconds and sighs before turning in her seat so she can face me.

“I’m not so intoxicated that I don’t recall my behavior,” she says formally. “Or the things I said.”

My heart pounds in my chest, pulse doing the same.

“Again, it didn’t bother me.”

“I…” she trails off, obviously not sure what to say.

“Leah,” I pause to clear my throat, “what you said, in the texts and when I got to Carissa’s house. It didn’t bother me because Ilikedit. You have to know.”

“Know what?”

I blow out a breath and give her hand another squeeze, losing any bit of courage I once had. “Let’s talk tomorrow. When your head is clear. Have dinner with me. Just the two of us.”

“Just the two of us?”

It’s not unheard of, we have gone to lunch together countless times. I’ve sat with her at high school football games, she’s sat with me in my shop at home while I built furniture, walked around the annual town festival, road the Ferris wheel and played silly carnival games and ate our weight in funnel cakes, corn dogs, fried cheese curds, and many local delicacies. We’ve met for coffee and drinks and gotten together dozens of other times alone or gathered with friends and family. This would not be the first time we’ve spent time together alone, but the implication I made isn’t lost on her.

Dinner just the two of us isn’t just dinner.

I swallow hard. I haven’t dated anyone since my divorce. She hasn’t dated anyone since hers. Neither of us have gone on first dates for over two decades. It’s strange to be nervous about something I’m so sure of at the same time.

With a nod, I confirm, “Just the two of us. Dinner. Tomorrow night. I’ll pick you up at six.”

“Stone,” she says, my name on her lips sounding a lot like heaven on earth. “Is this… um, well, is this…”

“A date? Yes. If you’d like it to be. If that’s not where your head is at, then it’s just dinner between friends.” Her eyes flare and she licks her lips so I decide it’s time to man up. Be who I am. A man who is confident and self-assured and quite honestly a flirt. How she’s missed my flirting is beyond me. I haven’t been subtle in it. I suppose that’s why I’ve been nervous. My mind is going back and forth between her just not catching on, and her simply ignoring it. “But, in case you’re wondering where my head is at, I’m considering this our first date. One of many, I hope. My head’s been there since we saw each at the grocery store, but I’ve been waiting for you to be ready.”

“And I’m ready now?”

I chuckle. “Well, I certainly hope so, but as I said, if you’re more comfortable to stay friends, well, I’ll take what I can get from you.”

“I’d like that,” Leah says quietly.

“Which part? Friends or a date?”

“A date.” Her smile is blinding. “Definitely a date.”

I resist the urge to let out a whoop. I’ve exercised more patience than I thought I possessed hoping for her to be with me in the feelings I have for her. It’s not who I am. I see something I want, and I go for it. But with Leah, I knew that I needed to go gentle. I needed to give her time.

Time’s up.

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