Chapter 12
12
“ H ave you had lunch?” I ask, loving the banter and energy that’s going on between us. She shakes her head. “Would you like to get lunch with me?” As I ask, I wish it would have come out more confident.
“Are you asking me out on a date?” she teasingly asks.
“I know you’re the one who’s supposed to be flirting with me, but I’m picking up your slack,” I tease back in what I hope is a confident smirk.
She giggles, and I’m so attracted to her and all her little mannerisms. She’s probably the only person who can make baggy, paint-stained coveralls look this sexy.
“Where do you want to go?” she asks.
“Cakes?”
“Oh! I hope they are still serving their brunch menu.”
I take my phone from my pocket, looking at the time. “If we move quickly, we’ll make it.”
“Let me lock up,” she says with almost a skip in her step. Sarah flicks all the lights off, then goes behind the cash register and pulls out a huge puffy coat. In a world where everyone wears black parkas, she opts for a bold, paisley-printed winter coat.
“I like that.” I smile.
“Thanks! I love this jacket too!”
As we both step outside, she locks the door behind her. Grabbing her hand, I feel a spark between us, but she pulls away.
“Did I misread this situation?” I ask, needing to understand.
“No.”
Nervous, but eager, I flirt, “Am I moving too fast for you?”
She laughs, a devilish glint in her blue eyes. “No.”
I take the moment to check her out, making it very clear what my intentions are with her right now. “You’re worried your secret admirer might see.”
She leans in, her lips dangerously close to mine. “Maybe,” she says with a sly smile, then leans back. “But are you trying to get the town in a frenzy? This would be some hot gossip.”
I know what she’s implying, but I want to hear her say it. “What do you mean?” I ask, grabbing the end of her hair, adding to our flirtation.
“Two staples of Main Street seen walking hand in hand. Juicy stuff,” she says in a sexy whisper.
“And you care?” I challenge, my hand grabbing for hers again.
She shoots me a daring look, then squeezes my hand. “No. Let them talk.”
I hold back how big my smile wants to be, and we walk toward Cakes.
“When am I getting my glasses back?”
“It wasn’t a fair trade? My number for those glasses.”
“I didn’t agree to a trade. You stole them.”
“Stole?”
“Yes, Aaron Olson. You’re a petty criminal.” She giggles.
We’re both smiling so much. I laugh. “Okay. I’ll return them.” I bite the inside of my cheek, trying to hide how much I’m loving talking with her. “You have little hands,” I say as we walk, hand in hand, to the restaurant.
She laughs, and I love how this moment feels right now. So simple and perfect and right. “You just have huge hands,” she flirts.
I chuckle, resisting the urge to make any comment about the innuendo. I think about how I could have made a simple move like this in high school to ask her out for a casual meal. I should have done it. But you can’t go back. You can only live in the moment. And right now, I’m taking my shot.
It took me far too long to have a normal level of confidence, and today, what I want is Sarah. Her laughter, her warmth, her presence—everything about this feels perfect.
Opening the door for her, we enter Cakes, a local diner known for their huge pancakes and being open twenty-four hours a day.
“Where do you want to sit?”
“A booth.”
“Because you’re afraid of being in public with me?” I tease.
“Because I don’t want half the town talking to us while we’re trying to get to know each other,” she sasses, then smiles.
I smirk, enjoying this moment. Sitting across from me, she says, “I’m still getting reacclimated to small town living. In Los Angeles, Seattle, and Portland, I was just a girl on the street. Versus here—where I’m Sarah Anderson, daughter of Bill and Kelly, owner of Main Street Maker’s Studio, Class of 2011.”
“You lived in Seattle and Portland? I didn’t know that.”
“You haven’t been keeping tabs on me on Facebook?” She arches her brow.
“I’m not on social media anymore.”
“Because?” She drags the question out.
“It’s so fake.”
“Isn’t that the truth.” She laughs, then looks down at the menu. “My posts used to be very much like ‘look at me, living the dream’ when really, I was hustling so hard to just get by,” she says, not looking up. After a few moments of silence, she says, “I got priced out of all three cities, which is why I’m back here.”
“Do you regret it?” I ask, unsure of her tone. “Moving back?”
“Living out west was a great experience to have in my twenties, but living in Wisconsin is easier and calmer. The calm is nice.”
“I know what you mean. That’s why I like it here too.”
“So, have you ever lived anywhere else?”
“Just Lake Geneva, but I travel as much as possible. I love hiking and have been to Argentina and New Zealand, which are some of the best spots for it, and I’ve also backpacked around Europe a few times.”
She makes a little face, like she’s almost impressed with me. “I wasn’t expecting you to be so worldly.”
“Summers at the bar are very good to me. Chicago people are so mad at their money, and I’m happy to rake it in from Memorial Day to Labor Day each year.”
“This is my first off season with the studio, and it’s hard out there without those damn tourists.”
“We should order,” I say, pointing to the menu. “Brunch service ends in ten minutes.”
“Thanks! Yes.”
I wave over the server.
“Eggs Benedict and grapefruit juice for me.” Sarah smiles.
“A full stack of pancakes, extra whipped cream.”
Sarah laughs, and the server walks away.
“What?”
“Extra whipped cream?”
“I’ve been eating so clean for the last month. It’s cheat day.”
A cute noise escapes her.
“What?” I ask, wanting to know.
“Whatever diet and exercise plan you are on, it’s working.”
I smirk, seeing she’s nervous after saying that. Deciding to be bold too, I say, “You know, I’ve always thought you were cute. Last night’s look, though, was really sexy.”
“No pants is a good look on me?” she quickly quips.
I laugh, then blush, biting my lip and covering my mouth with my hand, trying to hide the growing innuendos and ideas running through my head.
“Those wings though.” She raises a brow. “Those were sexy.”
“Just the wings?” I tease, begging her to say more.
“I guess your abs were okay too.”
I grab for her hand, swiping my thumb over her knuckles. “I like this look the best,” I say, eyeing up her coveralls. “It’s so you.”
We hold a long stare, our eyes conveying our mutual attraction.
“I always thought you were so cool,” I say after a silent moment. “I definitely always noticed you …”