Page 16 of Five Minute Man
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IS HE REALLY INTERESTED, or is he just being polite?she wondered.
Holly loved her place. Liz often told her that, when she talked about it, she got this dreamy look on her face. That was usually when Liz admitted to zoning out.
Holly didn’t want to bore the man to distraction, but he might as well know up front what he was dealing with. He had handled the “I’m a romance writer” thing better than expected, and he had admitted to a penchant for old houses, as well.
Of course, since he renovated old places for a living, he might be asking out of professional rather than personal interest. Inwardly, she shook her head. It didn’t matter. He was interested, and she liked being the focus of his interest, underlying motivation be damned.
“Oh, it’s beautiful,” she said aloud. “It’s been upgraded over the years, of course—wired for electricity and fitted for indoor plumbing—but it’s retained its old-world charm. The house needs a lot of work, though. I’ve been there nearly six months and I’ve barely made a dent.”
An idea formed in her head. So far, this man had managed to ace every question on her mental male potential quiz, which was a first. Plus, she liked him enough to want to see him again. This might be the perfect way to do just that without actually asking him out. Whatever genetic trait predisposed her to alpha male type romance novel writing also prevented her from taking the initiative in situations like this.
“Adam, would you be interested in seeing it? Maybe you could offer some professional advice. I want to keep as much of the original look and feel as possible, and I’m afraid I’ve just kind of been winging it.”
He didn’t answer right away. Seconds ticked by in silence, feeling more like minutes, and with each one, Holly’s disappointment grew. Things had been going so well. She should have just kept her big mouth shut. Obviously, she had misread the situation. The only thing she could do at this point was backtrack and try to regain some of that easy back-and-forth they’d had going on before she had ruined it by pushing too hard.
“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sure you’re very busy.”
“I’d love to.”
She blinked, her eyes snapping back up to his.
His expression was unreadable, but his eyes, they were intensely blue, darker than they had been just a little while ago. Those eyes were borderline hypnotic and blatantly powerful. If she wasn’t careful, she could easily lose herself in them.
“You would?”
“Absolutely.” Those blue eyes continued to bore into her, holding her captive.
He had said yes, which meant she hadn’t messed this upyet, and maybe, just maybe, he wanted to see her again, too.
“That would be great!” she said, trying desperately to sound like the mature adult woman she was and not some crushing teen.
She mentally ran through her calendar for the week, which was kind of silly, really. The only thing that was ever on her schedule was her weekly girls’ night out dinner with Liz on Tuesdays. He didn’t need to know that, though. She could let him think she had a very busy, rewarding social calendar.
“What works for you?”
“Pretty much any night is good for me,” he said, apparently having fewer self-confidence issues than her. “Except for Wednesdays. I’m in a pick-up league at the YMCA with a couple guys I subcontract with.”
It was Sunday evening. Monday was too soon. She would seem too eager. Plus, she wanted a chance to clean the place up before he saw it. Living alone didn’t provide a lot of incentive to keep things spick and span. Tuesday and Wednesday were out. If she suggested Friday, it might sound more like a date. He seemed interested, but she didn’t want to push her luck.
“Thursday night?” she asked.
She felt the effects of his slow smile all the way down to her toes. “Thursday night it is.”
