Page 46 of Say You Will

This isn’t a “done deal.” If I don’t approach her correctly, her attraction for me could melt away like cotton candy in a pop-up thunderstorm. How can I say,“trust me”when I don’t understand exactly what she needs from me to feel happy and secure? Love. Romance. They’re vague concepts that mean different things to different people.

Meanwhile, the ticking clock of Grandmother’s ultimatum looms over us. I have just under three weeks left to make her mine.

New emotions are seeping unbidden into my psyche, like water settling into cracks in concrete. Two weeks ago, I believed nothing was worth the pain of allowing myself to feel, but if my own vulnerability is the price for her heart, I’ll pay it. For Franki, I will.

fifteen

Franki

Teenage Dream | Stephen Dawes

With a crooked smile,Henry draws his hand back and shoves it in his pocket. “You’ve never been to a pumpkin patch?”

“Never. It sounds . . . pumpkin-y.” It soundsromantic, actually, but Henry says he doesn’t do romance. So, I’m guessing maybe it has something to do with his niece or a favor for his sister.

Henry shakes his head and fake scolds me, “City girl.”

“You’re a city boy,” I remind him with a smile.

He tilts his head to the side. “I’m a city boy out of necessity. My businesses are there, and it’s where I was raised. If I could do anything I wanted to, I’d live somewhere like this. There’s nothing in the world like being able to go for miles and never see another person. It’s peaceful in the country, and there’s minimal light pollution.”

I’ve traveled some, and I’ve occasionally seen a beautiful night sky, but I spent most of my time surrounded by concrete and artificial lights. None came close to the places Henry and I discussed wanting to see. “Stars?”

“The porch roof is outside that window. On a clear night, I can lie out there and visibility with the naked eye is unlike anything you’d find in populated areas. It’s better if I take a telescope out to one of the fields, but even without one, it’s incredible.”

His enthusiasm makes me smile. “I’d like to see that.”

“Then I’ll show you.” He guides me out of the bedroom with a hand on my lower back.

True to his word, as we descend the stairs, he keeps pace beside me and gives no indication of being in a hurry. When we reach the front door, he holds my short, red trench coat for me, and I place one arm, then the other in the sleeves. I pull my hair from beneath my collar and reach for the first button. When the closure gives my stiff fingers trouble, I decide to leave it open. I’ll wrap the belt around to stay warm, instead.

Henry lightly brushes my hands away but doesn’t go further. “May I?”

Did he notice me struggling? “Why?”

He grins like a naughty schoolboy. “Because I want to touch you.”

“Oh.” I grin. “Okay.”

He completes the buttons, ties the belt, then ushers me out the front door.

“Should we tell anyone where we’re going?” I haven’t seen Bronwyn yet. It feels rude to run off before saying hello to my hosts.

“Absolutely not. I don’t want anyone to tag along or turn this into a group event.”

The idea of seeing where things go with Henry has me the next thing to giddy, but I’m not going to make assumptions again. The night in my hotel room was brutal, and I can’t even lay the blame entirely at his feet for him being insensitive. The reason it hurt so much was because I had expectations of something else. Kissing me back and admitting to wanting to touch me doesn’t mean that he’s changed his mind about relationships. I’m not going to allow myself to get excited over nothing. I need him to tell me what this is.

We walk to his car where it’s parked in the drive. “You said you had no interest in dating, but this seems a little date-like, doesn’t it?”

“I love the way you don’t dance around things. This type of blunt communication is by far my preference.” He opens the passenger door to his SUV. I take his hand as he assists me into my seat, then prop my cane against my legs and fidget with the belt on my jacket as I wait for him to say more. He may love the way I communicate, but he hasn’t answered the question.

He leans in. “Dating would require significant amounts of both effort and attention from me.”

I huff and lean back in my seat. So, he likes me but doesn’t want to have to make an effort? I have news for him, he already has been. All last week. Just because we didn’t leave the penthouse and go somewhere didn’t mean that he wasn’t paying attention to me.

“The idea of finding things to do together that we both enjoy and learning about you . . . listening to you? I can’t remember the last time I looked forward to anything more. So, if you’reamenable, one small-town, pumpkin patch, apple-cider-donutdatecoming up.” He watches me with an assessing gleam in his eyes.

I scrunch my nose and smile, my cheeks warm.He was teasing me. “Okay. We’re on a date.”

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