Page 66 of A Rancher's Vow
“No problem.”
Caleb was nearly out the door when she remembered the paperwork she’d prepared for him to sign the previous week, which meant it was nearly thirty minutes later before she had the empty office to herself and a chance to collapse into her chair and breathe out a sigh of relief.
She wasn’t in trouble.
First and most importantly, Caleb had acted like the rock-solid big brother Dustin had always said he was.
Second lesson of the day? Tamara was a total badass. Charity couldn’t wait to find out the whys and wherefores of the pitchfork incident.
Outside Charity’sapartment on Tuesday night, Dustin paused. He passed the flowers he’d bought from hand to hand, wiping his sweaty palms dry on his jeans.
What the hell?He was as skittish as a newborn colt. Ridiculous to be nervous, all things considered. But his brain kept coming back to the idea of making this real, and the best ways to do that, and now he was jumping at shadows.
He took a deep breath and rang the bell.
The door popped open a second later, Charity’s smile shining on him. “Right on time.”
“Adam would be proud.” He held forward the flowers. “For you.”
She took the bouquet, and her smile bloomed even brighter. She gestured him in. “Thanks. That’s so sweet.”
“You always wear flowery things, so I thought you’d like them.” He gestured to her outfit. “My proof. Flowers.”
She pulled a glass vase out of the cupboard and filled it with water. “I do have a theme, don’t I?”
“It works. The bright colours look great on you.”
“Thanks again.” The vase settled on the kitchen table, Charity stepped back to admire them. “Very pretty. From Rose’s shop?”
“As if I could buy from anywhere else in town. Fern was working. Said to tell you she’d be a little late tonight.”
“Okay. Just let me put on my shoes and I’ll be ready to go.”
She paced away. Dustin admired the sway of her hips under the flitty flower-covered skirt that fell to mid-thigh. “You really do look pretty.”
“Thanks.” Charity twirled, revealing the length of smooth skin that made his fingers twitch with the need to stroke. “Hey. None of that.”
He reluctantly lifted his gaze off her legs. “None of what?”
“Undressing me with your eyes. We’re going dancing, remember?”
“Horizontal dancing is a thing.”
“Really?”
“So I’ve heard.”
She bent to tug a silver shoe strap in place. “Vertical dancing first.”
Her ass—damn. “You’re a strict girlfriend, Tee.”
“So I’ve heard.”
They grinned at each other, and his nerves vanished. This thing they were doing, with the time spent together—the dating might be pretend, but the connection between them was real.
Maybe if he kept them doing what they were doing, they could flow from pretend to the next thing, simple and easy.
Outside her apartment, Charity slipped her hand around his elbow. Tucked to his side, they strolled the short distance to the door of Rough Cut pub.
