Page 86 of Electric Blue Love
“What’s wrong with wanting to look good?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. I’m just saying, depending on the kind of guy you’re trying to attract, it doesn’t matter.”
“No?” I asked, crossing my arms over my chest. “I’m pretty sure you’re the one who came up with the rule that I should dress a certain way to get a man’s attention.”
“And are you trying to get a man’s attention?”
“I –” I opened and closed my mouth trying to determine just how honest I was willing to be. “I wanted to look nice for our first time hanging out again.” My voice was soft, and I bit at the corner of my bottom lip as I waited for his reaction.
He grinned a slow sexy smirk that set my heart racing. “You’ve never looked sexier than you do right now. No shoes required to get my attention. In fact, no shoes, no shirt – I’m good with any state of undress that might make you more comfortable.”
A flush crept up my neck.
Court took my hand and squeezed. “You don’t need those rules with me. I see you. The rules, those were meant for idiots who couldn’t see what was right in front of them.” He leaned in close again, his familiar scent making my heart beat wildly. “I’m a smart man. I don’t need ribbons and bows to see what a gift you are in my life.”
When we reached my parents’ house, Court got out and extended a hand down to me. I awkwardly scooted over in the seat with the toaster oven on my lap, wishing I’d bought the crystal wine glasses, so it was easier to maneuver. I finally gave up and handed him the bag. He laughed but took it and then guided me out of the cab with a hand at my elbow.
“Thanks for seeing me home.”
“Thanks for coming with me to shop. To think Leika might have ended up with something useful and practical,” he said with a wink as he handed me my bag back.
I rolled my eyes but laughed. “I’m denying that I had any hand in picking that gift,” I said and motioned with my head to his bag.
The tension was back as we prepared to say goodbye. Was I supposed to hug him? Kiss him on the cheek? I had no idea what the protocol was here. When I couldn’t take the awkward standoff any longer, I moved forward and gave him a weird half hug inadvertently ramming the toaster oven into the back of his legs in the process.
“Oh, God, sorry,” I said and stepped away quickly. I held a hand over my face and peeked out to see him slightly buckled over and a grimace on his face. “Alright, I’m going inside now. Night.”
I heard him chuckle softly as I backed away from him.
“Night, 8B,” he called in a sexy voice filled with humor at my expense.
I hummed lightly as I entered the house. My mother sat at the dining room table, recipe books and cards scattered around her.
“Hello,” I called. I dropped the toaster oven on the floor and took a seat across from her.
“You missed dinner, but there’s a plate for you in the microwave,” she said without looking up.
“Where is everyone?”
“Your father went to pick up my prescriptions and the boys are out with friends.”
I watched her in silence for a few minutes. She studied each recipe card, copied the recipe onto a new card, and then filed the old card away in her recipe box and stacked the new recipes. A seemingly easy task was slowed by the tremor of her hands, but she kept at it even when I could tell she was getting frustrated.
“What are you doing?”
She finally looked up, meeting my eyes and placing the pen down. “I’m copying my recipes for you.”
“What? For me? Why?”
She smiled. “My mother did the same for me. She copied the recipes her mother had given her and gave them to me.”
“Why not just copy them on the printer or scan them to a USB?”
She scoffed. “I know it’s hard to believe now, but someday having my handwritten recipes will mean something to you. It’ll be like I’m with you every time you bake an apple pie or make grandma’s spinach dip,” she said holding up the card in front of her.
“Moooom.” My eyes filled with tears because she was right. It would mean something. It meant something now.
She waved off my tears and went back to copying the recipes.
