Page 68 of Almost Perfect
“No, it’s not a bad thing. It’s reallygood. I’m not explaining this right, but it was this lightbulb moment for me in the best way. I often feel pretty isolated and lonely and then ungrateful because I have so much. And today, with Quinn, and even Sarah and Dahlia to a degree, I realized I’m not alone in that.”
Well, that did sound good. “I’m glad, then. I’m not sure I would’ve guessed those were the ways you found common ground with Quinn.”
She chuckled. “Well, I’m not a mom. But we did talk music at her shop when we first met, though I could tell they all tried to stay away from that today for my sake. I don’t mind talking about work, but I did like that it didn’t turn into ‘ask Calla music industry questions’ time.”
“Me too.”
“And I liked Sarah. She seems so sweet. Dahlia’s great, too—she had to leave pretty quickly after our entrees came so I didn’t get to know her as well.”
Now that I looked at her, really observed her whole person in general and not her in specific, vivid detail like I tended to see her lately, I could see the buzzing, energetic glow about her.
“Are you an introvert?” I’d wondered if she was, but this seemed to say otherwise.
She squinted at the ceiling as she chewed another bite. “I’m not a true introvert, no. But I have to gear up to be around people. I don’t know how a genuinely introverted person could handle the performing and publicity or fame, but I know they’re out there. Sometimes, people energize me, and sometimes, they exhaust me.”
“Makes sense.”
“And you’re an introvert.” It wasn’t a question.
I nodded. “I suppose I am. I am friendly with people, but I only have a handful of truly good friends, and I rarely actually see anyone but family. Takes me time to warm up, and I prefer to observe a while before I dive into social situations.”
“I can see that. Maybe that’s why you were so grumpy about me moving in.” She winked and took another bite.
“I wasn’t grumpy.”
“Oh, okay. Rude, then.”
I gasped and put a hand to my chest, falsely affronted. “I wasn’t the one checking out my chaps.”
Her cheeks flamed instantly, and she coughed and swallowed roughly. “I am sorry about that. I think maybe you broke my brain that day.”
“Ibrokeyourbrain?”
Her smile blazed again. “Here I was, an unsuspecting girl arriving after hours of travel to a strange, isolated part of town. Then what do I see but this strapping man, spouting directions and gracing me with a view of his spectacular…chaps.”
I laughed, big and loud. “You’re a nut. Not a special snowflake, but a cracked little nut.”
Her pleased grin made my stomach swoop.
“I won’t deny being a little addled at this point.”
Good grief, I liked her. That humor and self-deprecation were so damned charming. We beamed at each other until the power flickered and I hopped up. “Let me unplug a few things. You need anything?”
I rounded the table to look down at her where she sat, and she grabbed my wrist. “No. I’m good.”
Her hand against my skin sent shots of sensation fanning out from her contact. I nodded and pulled away before I ended up hauling her out of her chair and in for a kiss.
I hoped we’d get there tonight, but not yet. We’d finish dinner, at least.
Minutes later, I hustled back down the hall from my office after unplugging my computer and treadmill, and lastly, the living room TV.
“I heard someone in town say they were expecting two feet in the next forty-eight hours. Is that really possible?”
Her gaze followed me as I took my seat.
“It’s not real common—certainly not something we see every year. But we need the snowfall, and it does create some interesting challenges. When I don’t have to worry about the herds, it makes it more fun and less stressful.”
Not that I ever had my business entirely out of mind, but the management kept me updated regularly. If it’d just been me here tonight, I probably would’ve been texting them on and off to check in and make sure they’d done all the things they knew to do like a micromanaging idiot. Instead, happily, I had an excellent distraction.
