CHAPTER THREE
TAYLOR
Glancing around the farmers market, I don’t see any dark-haired guys with beards wearing blue shirts and khaki pants. I am a few minutes early, so I settle my back against the hood of my car and wait.
When Gabe called me two nights ago, I was surprised. By the call and the rich timbre of his voice. I’m a sucker for a good voice and Gabe’s wasn’t just good, it was panty-meltingly hot. He explained who he was and why he was calling, and I have to admit I was intrigued.
But I’ve been intrigued and fascinated with a man before and it has led to disappointment.
So I decided why not make the most out of this date.
I refused his offer of dinner and posed instead that he meet me at the farmers market that’s open every Saturday morning at Benford Park.
His surprise was adorable, as was the stuttering way he swiftly switched gears and agreed.
Nice public place, taking my own vehicle so I could leave whenever I wanted, and getting my weekly supply of fresh produce, all while meeting a man that made my lady bits warm. It was the perfect plan.
I check my phone and see he’s now officially late. So much for perfect planning.
A big Cadillac SUV crunches through the loose gravel of the parking area, kicking up loose stones and I wince as I hear the steady ding of them striking the glossy black exterior of the vehicle.
Apparently, the owner doesn’t realize it’s better to slow your roll instead of blasting through.
I smirk. He’ll realize that soon enough when he sees the dust and damage to his vehicle’s paint job.
Turning from that spectacle, I resume my lookout for my late date and wonder how long I’m going to give him before beginning my shopping.
“Taylor?”
Whipping my head, my long blonde ponytail flies around, smacking me in the face.
Impatiently, I pry away the hairs clinging to my glossy lips and toss my hair back over my shoulder where it belongs.
The man standing in front of me is indeed dark-haired with a beard and wearing the as described clothes.
What he failed to mention was the warm sun-bronze of his skin, or that he had dark blue eyes that held me spellbound.
His broad shoulders stretched the limits of his shirt, and he was tall, reminding me that at five foot four inches I’m on the short side of average.
“Taylor?” he repeats, his lips quirking up and giving a hint of white teeth made even whiter against the warm tone of his skin.
Giving myself a fast mental shake, I offer a smile of my own. “Yes, you’re Gabe?”
“I am.” He offers me his hand, which swallows my own. The slide of firm, calloused skin against my palm is a surprise as I thought he was in finances along with Amelia’s boyfriend Mark.
We stand staring at each other, and I wonder what he thinks.
Genetics has been kind to me. Both a blessing and a curse.
People are attracted to me for my looks, and I’ve had to deal with a lot of jealousy as well.
I can’t help or take credit for my appearance, nor do I think I make a big deal out of it.
I’ve never been homecoming queen or won any other competitions.
I’m just a girl going about my life and trying to make my way in this big and crazy world.
The more I look over Gabe, I wonder how much of that he’s also had to deal with.
An attractive man with a good career is quite the catch.
He’s even over six feet, something I’ve heard a lot of women wanting in a man.
At my height I’m fine with any guy taller than me.
I don’t care if he’s five nine or six five.
“Shall we?” I ask, gesturing to the farmers market, which is in high gear, with a steady stream of people milling about and the parking area rapidly becoming full.
“Let’s.”
We fall into step beside each other and since this isn’t a normal first date by any means, I decide that regular first date rules don’t apply. I grab his hand and tug Gabe toward the back where my favorite seller Tony is normally set up.
He tenses and then his fingers curl around mine comfortably and we easily begin weaving between stands.
“I don’t recall every being to a farmers market before.”
“Then you can thank me because once you go and have fresh produce, you’re never going to be able to look at the limp and old stuff they sell in the grocery store the same again.”
Gabe’s laughter rolls over me and the familiar excitement of attraction sizzles through me. “Who says I eat vegetables?”
That stops me and my horrified eyes search his face, looking for a trace of humor.
Either he has a great poker face or he’s not joking.
“You seriously don’t eat vegetables?” I’m not a vegetarian by any means and enjoy a good burger as much as the next gal.
That said, I also make a mean BLT and sometimes skip the B in favor of some thick slices of tomato instead.
Those wide shoulders shrug. “After I left home and no longer had my mom hanging over me telling me to eat my vegetables, I haven’t made it my mission for every meal to be nutritionally balanced.”
We resume walking and I stew over that and keep my suspicious eyes on him. “But you’re not opposed to a salad, are you?”
“As long as it’s not ham salad I won’t say no.”
That relaxes me some.
We reach Tony’s stall, and I immediately set to work picking out cucumbers, beets, carrots, and anything that catches my eye. Not wanting Gabe to stand there bored, I load his arms up with my purchases.
“You’re seriously going to eat all this?” he asks with a bemused twist to his lips.
I’m liking how expressive his face is and that he’s being such a good sport. “I’m hoping you might help me with some of it.” I toss a grin his way before burying my face in a fragrant bouquet of wildflowers.
“We’ll take those too,” Gabe tells Tony. He shifts the armload of produce and reaches into his front pocket for a money clip.
Since this is the equivalent of buying me a meal at a restaurant, I don’t protest, and my grin grows wider.
I pull my reusable bags out of my purse, shake them out, and together we load them with our purchases. Gabe shoulders both, not seeming to mind that they are pink and lavender with darling little starry-eyed cats on them and grabbing my hand we continue working our way through the market.
“Mark said you were Amelia’s friend?”
“Best friend and coworker. Are you Mark’s best friend?”
Gabe’s laughter is immediate, and I’m confused at what I said that was so funny.
Letting out a shuddering breath, Gabe shakes his head. “Coworkers, yes. Friends? I would never call us that and I’m most definitely not his best friend. I doubt Mark has anyone other than Amelia that can stand him.”
A bit of loyalty to my bestie has me wanting to defend Mark, but what do I know about the dynamics of male friendship and bonding? “If you’re not his friend, then why did you trust him to set you up with anyone?”
“Curiosity, loneliness, and mostly trust in Amelia’s judgement in friends over Mark’s.”
Now I’m the one laughing. “How can you still trust Amelia’s judgement when she picked Mark?”
His dark brows scrunch down over those glittering dark blue eyes of his and his grin is rueful as he lets out a sharp bark of laughter. “Touché.”
We pause at a stall that sells local honey and accept a tiny sample in a plastic straw.
Thick and cloying, the honey coats my tongue and I let out a murmur of appreciation.
I feel more than I see Gabe’s gaze on me and self-consciously lick at my lips making sure none of the sticky honey is clinging.
“You have a bit right there,” Gabe says, his big finger coming and poking at my face near the corner of my top lip. There’s nothing romantic or sweet about the gesture as his finger digs into my face.
Quickly I back away from him and rub at the spot on my lip and where he poked. The guy seems a tad on the clueless side when it comes to respecting personal space as in don’t touch my face. Then again, I did just grab him and drag him along with me, so maybe he’s taking his cues from me.
“Thanks,” I mutter and pick up a small oval-shaped jar of honey.
Gabe is quick to dig into his pocket again and I wave him off. “I got this.” On impulse I add a second jar to gift to Gabe and the seller, a beaming lady with faded red hair and bright green eyes, gives me a quick wink.
Tucking the jars into a third bag that I pull out of my purse, Gabe chuckles. “How many of those bags do you have in there?”
“Two more. They roll up tight and don’t take up much room. Perfect for shopping here.”
Continuing to shop, Gabe and I begin going through the usual first date getting to know you questions.
“You work in finance?”
“I’m an investment manager, yes.”
I roll my eyes. Can’t accuse the guy of being long-winded, that’s for sure. “Sounds boring,” I say, hoping to get a rise out of him and maybe elicit more than five word answers to my questions.
“It can be for some.”
“But not for you,” I press.
“No, I enjoy my job. Every day isn’t exciting and personally I prefer that than fielding calls from nervous investors.”
I nod. He has a point there. “How long have you been working at…” I trail off, not sure where exactly he works. I know Amelia has mentioned it because her dad used to work for the same company Mark does. Talk about a small world.
“Everly Financial,” he helpfully supplies. “Fourteen years.”
“Do you know Amelia’s Dad?”
His smile is immediate, and I get the wild urge to fling myself at him and do all sorts of naughty, inappropriate for public, things to him.
Guess I’m finally realizing what all those men that would drool over my blonde good looks went through when they acted like idiots around me. I hated being objectified and doing that to Gabe is plain wrong too.
Keeping my tongue in my mouth where it belongs, I strive to be better and less of an ass to him. I went into this date with a big chip on my shoulder that had nothing to do with him and everything to do with me. It’s past time to start treating him like a man I’m genuinely interested in knowing.
Surprisingly, it’s true. There’s something about him, other than his looks, that makes me want to know more about him.
To see if his brief answers are because he’s shy- crazy enough successful men can be shy too, something I never would have dreamed of before working at Radiant Dental.
Two of the three dentists there are incredibly shy, which came as a huge shock to me and I actually feel for them since ten of the twelve hygienists they employ are female and they still get flustered when talking about personal details with us.
The thought of Gabe being shy makes me smile and the sudden idea of inviting him to dinner at my place tonight pops into my head and I latch onto it.
The not so innocent part of me purrs in approval of that idea.
I’m not above sleeping with a man on the first date and getting up close and very personal with Gabe and his yummy body has me wanting to rush through shopping so we can go to my place now.
Even though it’s hours away from even being close to dinnertime yet.
Good thing I have patience. Sometimes.