Page 66 of That Conflicted Feeling
Thecabbie nods.
AsIopen the door to climb out,Maxpoints at the wreath and half-empty wine bottle at his feet. “Don’tforget these.”
“Touching.Nothanks.Youcan keep them as mementos.”ButthenIthink better of it and turn back. “Actually,Iwill take this.”Igrab the wreath. “IbetCarlycan make something of it for the shop.Thewine’s all yours though.”
Bythe timeI’vewalked to the other side of the car,Maxis out and waiting for me.Doeshe thinkI’minviting him in again?I’mnot inviting him in again.Ineed to take some aspirin, get over this damn afternoon hangover, and process exactly what just happened.
Hetakes my non-wreath-holding hand in his. “I’dlike to take you on an actual date.”
Andhe means it.Ican tell by the look in his eyes that he means it.Idon’t think it had occurred to me that he might actually like me.
DareIlet myself believe that might be a possibility?Thatspending time with this man and getting to know him better would be a good thing?Thatgetting closer toMaxwouldn’t lead me to nothing but a world of hurt?Isthere a possibility that our obvious mental and physical connections could overcome our differences?
GoodGod, it’s tempting.
And, for the love of lady figs, those twinklers are hard to resist. “Youmean something without wreaths, wine, and llamas?”
“Well, there might be wine.Butit won’t have seen a gooseberry or a zucchini in its life.”
“Don’tyou need to work?Ithought you were only here to work?”
Hesqueezes my hand. “Ican juggle things around.Well, my assistant can.”
“Andwhat makes you think someone whose business you’re trying to crush would want to go on a date with you?”
“Becausemaybe—andIcan’t believeI’mabout to say this—but, maybe, sometimes something comes along that’s bigger than business.Butit’s still a deal you can’t pass up.”
Itwould be helpful if he weren’t being so goddamn perfect right now.Itwould be helpful to be able to tell him to take a hike, it will never work, we’re too different, and are currently on opposite sides of a picket line.
Butmaybe it’s time to give it a little try.Maybeit’s time to open the window inmyheart a little.
“Okay, we can try a date.Nosheds, though, right?”
“Oh,Ipromise you, there won’t be a shed in sight.”
Hestrokes my cheek, tips my face up to his, and rests his warm lips against mine.Thepain in my head eases a little and my insides turn to jelly.
“I’llpick you up at eleven tomorrow morning.”
“Amorningdate?”
“Awhole day date.”
“Awhole day?ButIhave to work.”NowIsound like him.Andif even he can juggle things to make this happen, maybeIshould make an effort to do that too. “CarlyworksMondays, though.”
Heducks back into the cab.
“Great.”
“ButIalready left her on her own today.Ican’t do that to her two days run—”
“Seeyou in the morning.”
Heflashes me a dazzling smile, shuts the door, and waves as the car moves away.
Shit.
AmIfalling for him?Thelast man on earthIshould fall for.Theman whose every reason for existence is in conflict with mine.AmIfalling for him?
