Page 52 of Almost Perfect
Hauling myself to my feet, I left the now nearly empty mug of hot chocolate on the crowded counter and shuffled to the door. My heart beat heavily in my chest, though I told it to quiet down. I didn’t even know if it would be him, and I didn’t need pounding heartbeats to remind me how much Wyatt Saint appealed to me. I’d gotten a belly full of that nonsense a week ago with the waffles and charm, and I’d been working to shove off the fluttery feeling that had lingered ever since. Seeing him at breakfast each day this week had done nothing to help me, even with his cooler demeanor.
“Whoa, that’s intense. Come in.” I waved Wyatt forward as the wind blew a gust of freezing air and icy snow through the doorway.
“Yeah. It’s ramping up. I came to make sure you’re all set for the night.” His eyes slipped over me, then seemed to linger on the long stain streaking my shirt from collarbone to hem.
Those eyes seeing my mess, yet again, had me turning on my heel and traveling down the length of the hallway into the even-less-tidy-than-it-had-been-last-time kitchen.
“That was nice of you. I think I have everything I need.” Wood for the fire. Food enough until I went into town tomorrow. Fully charged electronics in case the power flickered on me.
He nodded. “Shouldn’t get too bad until the second one hits Tuesday night.”
“I hadn’t heard about another one coming.” I hadn’t worried about weather since I’d been on tour, and I hadn’t done much touring since Candy died. Maybe five or ten small shows total, much to my label’s dismay.
“This one seems like a warmup compared to what’s coming Tuesday night into Wednesday. We’ll want to stock up tomorrow. I’m happy to drive you to town when I go, if you want.”
He seemed earnest enough, but also kind of cagey for some reason. “That’s nice of you. I think Warrick’s taking me to that lunch on Tuesday morning, so maybe I’ll just shop, then.”
At some point, I’d figure out something to say besides parrotingThat’s nice of you. His kindness and thoughtfulness made me feel squirmy and unsettled. No one did stuff like this in my life unless they were paid to, and yet here he stood.
He blinked, like he hadn’t expected that answer. “I don’t mind. Plus the store may be cleaned out by Tuesday if people go into panic mode. We’re usually better than that, but we’ve got a lot of tourists in town, so I won’t be surprised if all the toilet paper and bread is missing by late tomorrow.”
“Okay. Good idea.”
Any ounce of charm I’d once possessed withered in the awkwardness of this oddly business-like conversation. We’d had a nice time over waffles. He’d grown even more quiet than usual toward the end, and maybe I had been too. Our breakfasts this past week had been chaperoned by Warrick, who’d seemed tired but willing to fill the silences when they came. I’d waited for another flash of that heat between us, the little thrill of seeing him always warming me, but there’d been nothing. It was like my mess and constant presence had shut a door between us.
All of that proved disconcerting enough, but this was downright brutal.
Compelled to try to end it, I started, “Well—”
“So—”
We both stopped and did that uncomfortable chuckle, smile at each other, acknowledge we’d talked over each other thing. Ugh, this was one more reason I preferred having familiar faces nearby. Getting to know people could be so painfully awkward.
Although I’d thought we’d gotten past the new phase. We’d talked about some fairly intimate things—grief, especially, but other things too. And yet, here we were.
“Sorry, go ahead.” I leaned against the kitchen counter and crossed my arms.
He squinted as he looked at me, this certain expression that seemed almost shy, if I had to name it. “I was just going to ask if I could take you to dinner tomorrow.”
My brows shot up.Thatwas unexpected. Confusion nipped at the heels of what I couldn’t deny was excitement. “Uh, like when we go to the store?”
One side of his mouth slid up. “I suppose we could group it like that. We could go early and eat around five, then hit the store. I wouldn’t want anything fresh to sit too long.”
“Wouldn’t stuff be gone by then?”
He shoved his hands into his jacket pockets.
“Could be.” His brow furrowed, and the edges of that beautiful mouth turned down.
And it clicked for me as awareness and no small amount of thrill washed from my forehead to my toes. He’d asked me out, and I’d focused on logistics. I hadn’t said yes. And now, I was poking holes in the plan like I needed an escape. Despite the fact that I needed a romantic entanglement like I needed another failed album, the twist in my stomach and flutter in my chest told me I wanted this.
That should’ve sent me running for the hills, but here I stood on a mountain anyway, and I spoke before I could stop myself.
“We could go shopping early and just go back down if the roads aren’t too bad later? If you don’t mind driving. Or we could just eat here?” Then I wouldn’t have to worry about anyone recognizing me and popping this lovely little bubble I’d inflated around myself.
His lips pressed together, and I would’ve sworn he hid a smile. “We eat here all the time. You’ve gotta be sick of my cooking.”
“Hard to imagine such a horrid eventuality,” I said, smiling at him because he was so adorable. And hoping maybe he’d go for that.
