Page 23 of An Overdue Match
“Is there something I can help you with, Mr. Davis?”
“I really do love it when you call me that.” His smile simmers, causing heat to climb into my cheeks.
Do not react, Evangeline. It’ll only encourage him.I toss a thick lock of synthetic hair over my shoulder and rotate toward thecomputer, resting my fingers on the keys. When I look back at him, my face is void of any emotion. At least, that’s what I’m attempting. Hopefully it’s working. “Can I look up a book for you, perhaps?”
He pushes off the counter. With our similar height, our faces are closer than I’m used to. The lack of distance is disconcerting. Intimate somehow, and I find myself easily staring into his eyes without even meaning to.
I blink, clear my throat, and force myself to look at the computer screen.
“I’m not here for a book today.” His voice is soft and low. Hayley would call such a tone smooth as butter, although she might not use the saying on her cousin.
Even though it’s true.
“I came to ask you if you’d like to join me for dinner sometime.”
My head whips around so fast I might need a chiropractor later. I reach up and finger my wig, thankful that I hadn’t displaced it. “Excuse me?”
“Dinner.” He gives me that smile that engages his entire face, practically radiating carefree, confident charm. “You know, the meal people eat in the evening. Or maybe you call it supper?”
“I know what dinner is.” My surprise makes me snippy before I remember my manners and repeat myself a second time in a more controlled tone of voice.
He shrugs, then casually stuffs his hands in his pockets. “You sounded confused.”
“Not about the definition ofdinner.”
If possible, he’s grinning even more now. “Oh? Is there something else about my invitation I need to clear up?”
I can feel my irritation rising with my suspicion. I don’t know if I should try to push the feelings back down or wrap them around me like some sort of defensive armor.
“Yes.” My voice is clipped, so I try to modulate the next words out of my mouth. I cannot let him see that he is affecting me in any way. “Like why you asked me to dinner in the first place.”
He looks me straight in the eye. No provocation. “Angel, I’m asking you out on a date.”
He’s not laughing. At this point, he’s no longer even smiling.Are you serious? Why are you asking me out?
He smiles again now, this time softly. “I’m asking you out because I like you and I want to get to know you better. I want to spend more time with you.”
My eyes widen as my hand darts to hide my mouth. “I said those thoughts out loud?”
“Yes.” Mirth is a dancing flame behind his expression. “But I’m glad you did. Now you know the answer.”
I blink, wishing there were a cosmic pause button I could push right now so I could have just a few moments to sort out this massive tangle of knots that has become my thoughts and feelings. Seriously. My brain currently resembles a ball of yarn after Kitty Purry has gotten her claws in it. This is a plot twist that I hadn’t seen coming.
Tai Davis is interested in me? He wants us to go out on a date? I’m inputting the data, but my mind is still shooting outdoes not computemessages.
I glance up at him through my false eyelashes. Helookssincere. His hands are in his pockets, and he’s regarding me with a half hopeful, slightly amused expression. More like he finds the fact that I’m dumbstruck endearing and less like he’s having a laugh at my expense or considers me a toy he’s just playing with to pass the time. I know I’ve classified him as a modern rake, but is there a chance I might have misjudged him?
I nibble on the inside of my lower lip. There’s a humming below the surface of my skin. A thrill of possibility sending upflares of endorphins that’s getting increasingly harder to wade through with logical thought. I admit there’s a part of me that wants to say yes, to throw caution to the wind and jump on the slim chance that maybe the love of a man could be in my future. That someone could still want me or find me desirable.
But that part of me is the naïve optimist. The little bit left that hasn’t shriveled and died to let cynicism—or reality—take its place. Even if Tai is sincere now when he doesn’t know how I truly look, how long will that interest last? Until he sees me without any makeup and no eyebrows or eyelashes? Or maybe when he realizes I’m balder than a newborn baby under this wig?
I’m not ready to risk going through that again. I’m not ready to possibly watch the interest die from another man’s eyes when he looks at me without a wig or makeup. Brett had promised to protect my heart and he’d shattered it when I needed him most. That wound is still fresh and raw, the pain still aching. Maybe one day the injury to my heart will be healed enough to risk getting hurt again for a chance at love, but I’m definitely not ready now.
“No,” I say, shutting him—this—down before it can even get started.
He blinks, clearly expecting my answer would be different. “No? May I ask why not?”
Why not? Umm. I didn’t think he’d come back with a follow-up question or for me to lay out my reasons. Can’t no just be no? Again, where’s a pause button when you need one?
