Page 42 of Hello Trouble

When I found her, my thumb hovered over her name, just a tap away from dialing her. But... “This isn’t right,” I murmured.

They all burst out in protest, telling me I should buck up and give her a call. But I shook my head. “I should ask her in person.”

Dad grinned. “Atta boy. Now get out there and ask her out. Can’t wait to hear how it goes.”

Feeling a flurry of nerves in my chest, I got up from my chair and walked out to my truck.

This was happening. Tonight.

21

DELLA

A moth fluttered around my porch light as I stood across from Bennett at the end of our date. Usually, I liked living in such a safe, small town where I didn’t have to worry about locking my doors or anyone breaking in.

But right now, I really wished for keys I could fumble with to give him a sign that I was ready for a kiss goodnight.

Instead, I stood on my mat that said HELLO SPRING and told him, “Thanks for the milkshakes.”

“Of course,” he replied. “Glad you liked it.”

He turned to walk away, but I said, “Bennett?”

He faced me again, and before I could talk myself out of it, I launched myself forward to kiss him.

But instead of planting a kiss, I smushed our faces together, bonking my nose against his. “Ow!” I said, my hand going to my nose. Looked like his hurt just as bad because his large hand was covering his own.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” I cried out. “Are you okay?”

“I’m not sure... How does it look?” He pulled his hand away from his face, and a trickle of blood fell from his nose.

“You’re bleeding!” I said. As if this could have gotten any worse. “Come inside, I’ll clean you up.”

I held his elbow to guide him into my house while he pinched the bridge of his nose. I was so embarrassed and thinking this would probably go down for both of us as the worst date ever. “Here, you can sit in this chair.” I tugged out a chair from the table and helped him sit before hurrying to my cabinet for a wet rag.

Once I brought it back to him, he moved it to his bleeding nose. Utterly humiliated, I said, “Let me bake some cookies or something. So the nose isn’t the last thing we remember about tonight.”

He chuckled low. “That’s my life motto.”

“What’s your motto? Stay away from Della or get a busted nose?”

His laugh was warm, albeit muffled by the rag. “Never say no to cookies.”

Some of the tension in my chest eased at the comment. Grateful, I said, “I can make peanut butter cookies really easily.”

“Sounds great,” he replied.

Thankful to have something for my hands to do, I pulled the ingredients out of my cabinets and started combining them, thankful for the simple recipe my mom had taught me. One cup of peanut butter, one egg, and one cup of sugar, in the oven for twelve minutes at 350 degrees.

I held the bowl against my waist, mixing it together and trying not to stare at Bennett while he checked to see if he was still bleeding.

He pressed the rag back to his nose. Looked like it was.

With a frown, I pulled out a cookie sheet from a lower cabinet, lined it with parchment paper, and started dolloping spoonfuls of dough onto the pan. Once it was in the oven, I turned back to Bennett. He was folding up the rag so the blood wouldn’t show.

“Has it stopped bleeding?” I asked hopefully. Although my hope might have been misplaced. How did you come back from something like this?

He tipped his chin back to show me. “All clear.”

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