Page 50 of Home Safe

Well shoot. Looks like I’ll have to see you in person again ASAP.

It’s been three days since our snow day, and although Danae and I have texted a lot, I’m obnoxiously excited to see her again tonight. Our daily texts have helped me slowly learn more about what makes her tick—that her favorite part of being a librarian is helping kids find “the” book that unlocks their love for reading. That the hardest adjustment to being a mom has been constantly second-guessing if she’s responding the right way to his emotions. That her favorite color is purple, specifically the shade in the sky at sunset. That she really makes pro/con lists for just about every decision, and books are her means of mental escape.

I’ve told her a little more about my family dynamic too. How we moved all over when I was young, so I learned to adapt to new social situations everywhere we went. She wasn’t surprised at all by my admission that I was quick to win over every coach and teammate I ever played with, regardless of how long we were in one spot. She also didn’t seem surprised by my relief that we stayed put once I hit middle school. Most people assume that since I adapt to new situations so well, I must enjoy constant change. But I was elated when my dad stopped working for a big company overseeing construction of luxury hotels and opened his own general contracting business. We could finally settle in one place, and I even grew to love that it was Oklahoma.

We’re slowly laying cards on the table, revealing our lives and histories to each other little by little. But I’ve been stuffing certain cards up my sleeve, reluctant to play the jokers. I get the sense that Danae’sdoing the same . . . and it’s not a long-term strategy if I’m going to win this game. Win Danae for the long haul.

I need to tip my cards if she’s going to tip hers. The fact that her trust in me rides on my trust in her is an easy tell to read, so I’ve been preparing myself for a more serious conversation at dinner tonight. Luckily, I’ve arranged for my chef to cook dinner for us here at my house, and Sam is going to take Jason to a movie.

“Be expecting a large charge to your credit card tonight because I’m going to buy Jason all the popcorn and candy he can stomach,” Sam says as she walks into the bathroom where I’m styling my hair.

“Hey, knock first! What if I was in here showering?” I exclaim.

“Puh-lease, you wouldn’t leave the door open if you weren’t fully clothed,” she responds with an eye roll. “You sent Danae the security code to get into the neighborhood, right?”

“Of course, I did,” I say, washing the residual hair product off of my hands.

“I’ll text you when Jason and I are on our way back to give you a heads up to stop making out with Danae,” Sam says with an impish smile.

“You’re such a child,” I reply. I flick her arm as I walk past and dodge her returning kick. “We’re going to be talking. We need to be intentional about getting to know each other better if we’re going to be able to withstand the time apart while I’m in Arizona.”

“A little bit of making out might not hurt,” Sam says. “You know you want to.”

Boy, do I know it. Throughout the week, my thoughts have wandered to Danae’s lips on more occasions than could be cataloged.Maybe alittlekissing wouldn’t hurt.

“P.S., Joe called earlier, and I actually answered. You’re welcome,” Sam says, then pauses as though actually expecting me to thank her for doing her job. I narrow my eyes, forcing her to continue talking. “He really wants you to do that cologne campaign.”

“The one where they want a bunch of moody, broody shots of me shirtless with a crowd of women?” I ask. She nods. “No, thank you.”

“He asked me to remind you of the generous payout they’re offering,” she says with irritation. “Pretty sure he’s concerned abouthisportion of that payout.”

“Yeah, no. Never would I want to do that kind of marketing campaign. But especially not now that I’m trying to start a serious relationship with Danae. Parading around shirtless with other women isn’t exactly a trust-building move. Hard pass.”

“Perfect! I’ll tell him to shove the offer up his—”

I cut her off with another glare.

She holds her hands up in a placating gesture. “I’ll tell him it’s a firm no. Have you told Joe that you’re dating someone?”

“Nope,” I say, popping the “p” sound. “He’d want to spin it into some sort of PR story. Definitely not doing that to Danae and Jason. I’m going to go check with Robert about the food,” I say, heading to the kitchen. The house smells like an all-day brunch café.

Robert pulled some chef strings and borrowed several chafing dishes, which are lined up on the giant kitchen island. It smells like they’re already filled with the smörgåsbord of breakfast foods I requested.

“All good?” I ask.

Robert nods. “Just finished washing the dishes. It’s not going to taste as good being premade as it would if you'd let me stay and cook to order,” he explains with a severe look.

“I promise I won’t let Danae judge your chef skills based on the Bunsen burner food,” I say, and Robert starts muttering under his breath about his crumbling reputation.

“For real, thanks for doing this, man,” I tell him, heartily clapping him on the back.

“Anything for you,” he sighs. “Promise me that sometime I can cook arealmeal for you and your new lady.”

“Done.”

I spend the ten minutes between Robert’s departure and Danae’s arrival pacing the living room and trying not to think about kissing her.

Unsuccessful.

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