Chapter Seven #2
“Couple of those are my faves,” he told her, his calm gaze drifting across her face.
She knew she was blushing like wild; could feel the heat of mortification coloring her fair skin.
“If you’ve got a secret stash at work you’ve been keeping hidden, I'll warn you right now I’m gonna do everything I can to find it.
” His grin broadened. “And just FYI, I was great at hide and seek when I was a kid.”
For some reason, she knew he wasn’t kidding. That reality had a surprising smile forming on her lips. “Why don’t I doubt that even for a second?”
She was certain she was going to be struck blind if he smiled any brighter.
“I’ll remember that,” she said as she moved around him to proceed down the aisle. To her utter bewilderment, Kolby locked in step with her.
“You cook?” he asked, once again chinning her cart.
She tossed him a speaking glance. “Of course. It’s easier, less expensive, and healthier than always getting takeout.
It’s fine for lunches most days and the diner makes great food.
But I don’t want to exist on it. My mother would be scandalized if I did.
” Why she added that as a throwaway line she couldn’t begin to guess.
“Why?” he asked as she pulled jars of paprika and cumin from the spice shelf.
“No self-respecting Southern mother could show her head in public if it was known her only daughter didn’t cook. And cook well,” she added.
“You’re from the South?” His face registered the surprise in his tone.
“Mississippi born and bred, darlin’.” She affected the drawl she’d spent countless hours removing from her speech patterns.
“You’d never know it,” he said, his head cocking to one side as they began sauntering up another aisle. “You don’t have a trace of that in your everyday voice.”
“That’s the point.” She threw a bag of brown rice into the cart and followed it with a bag of jasmine.
“Why do you mask it?”
Admitting to him she didn’t want to sound like a dumb hick, a stereotype many of her Yankee brethren took for truth when she’d first opened her mouth after coming north to college, had her biting back a response.
“I mean, it’s adorable,” he said to her silence.
“Just what every grown woman wants to be.” She moved toward the produce section. Kolby was hot on her tail.
“I don’t mean to infantilize it,” he said.
She had to give him points for knowing what the word meant and using it correctly in a sentence.
The moment the thought hit, she realized she was being as judgmental toward him as her college mates had been to her.
“Or you. I just mean, a Southern drawl, when it’s coming from someone who’s—”
He shook his head and made a show of looking in his basket.
Charity did what she’d kept hoping he wouldn’t do. She pushed back and pressed.
“Someone who’s what?”
Plain? Unsophisticated? Not sexy enough for you?
She tugged a bunch of carrots from its box, then a tomato, and tossed both in her cart.
“Kolby?”
He lifted his gaze to hers.
“What were you going to say?”
“Nothing. Forget it.” Suddenly, his laconic gait morphed into something more resembling a road runner than a desert hare. “Well, I gotta check out. Get home. Do...stuff.” He stopped and shook his head. “See ya in the morning.”
He all but sprinted away from her and toward the checkout.
What the heck?
***
“So. Wedding planner. That must be," he paused, "interesting.”
Charity nodded as she sipped her tea, thinking he made her career sound anything but.
Take a breath, Baby-girl, she heard her mother admonish. The poor thing's probably as nervous as you are. We listen and we don’t judge.
As far as first dates went, this one had started out promising.
When Liv called and told her she’d set a coffee meet and greet for her with Tom, a thirty-two-year-old graphic designer who’d recently relocated to Concord for work, she’d been cautiously optimistic.
His headshot showed a guy who looked younger than his stated age, with a mop of curly brown hair and deep, dark eyes in a face that could be described as having good bone structure and great skin.
Charity was grateful Liv had set the date up during a weekday because her weekends were booked solid for the foreseeable future. Tom hadn’t minded the daytime meet because he worked remotely eighty percent of the time and his schedule was flexible, something Charity appreciated.
She’d taken pains with her clothing choice and makeup for the simple meet up at the local Heaven coffee house, Joy’s House of Java. Tom had agreed to meet on Charity’s home turf, knowing it was a workday and traveling outside the area wasn’t easy for her.
Clad in a sundress of plain blue and a floral motif silkscreened around the bottom half, she’d worn kitten-heeled sandals to match it, and pulled her hair up into a high ponytail.
Her makeup was sparse, maybe a little extra mascara to accentuate her light eyes, and she’d done her nails and toenails the night before, CarlyRae’s voice once again in her ear, telling her, no one wants to see a gal with unvarnished fingernails and raggedy toenails.
She was pleased when she’d taken a last look in her full-length mirror before leaving her apartment, and from the way Kolby’s eyes widened when he came into the office and spied her, she knew she looked passable. Maybe even good.
Sexy was never a word she’d ascribe to herself, so she’d leave it a good and be grateful.
“You must have some real bridezilla stories to tell,” Tom added, chuckling. “Cat fights in the dress store. Screaming matches with the potential mother of the groom. Fighting with bridesmaids, and grooms’ bad behavior antics. Lots of salacious stuff.”
Charity wanted to tell him he’d been watching too many wedding-themed reality shows, but bit down on the inside of her lip. The last thing she wanted to appear was condescending or judgmental.
Unlike her, Tom hadn’t appeared to want to dress to impress. Part of that she wanted to attribute to his relaxed work style. At least, she hoped that’s what it was and not some aversion to nicer clothing.
Not really a sartorial snob, Charity, nonetheless, thought when you wanted to make a good impression, you dressed for the part.
Tom, apparently, had no compunctions or preconceived notions of that concept.
He’d arrived right after her sporting a pair of jeans with jagged tears in the knees and that looked like he probably wore them in high school, over a pair of Converse sneakers that had seen better days.
A pale-yellow button-down shirt was untucked and only buttoned halfway up to reveal a plain white tee under it.
The mop of hair she’d found attractive in the photo Liv had emailed her was about two inches longer and more bed-head-rumpled and uncombed than artfully arranged.
“Weddings are emotional events, and we forgive any little egocentric blips that pop up. Not take them personally.” She winced at how pompous and stiff she sounded.
He cocked his head, his hair swishing with the move, brows crawling toward the center of his forehead.
Destiny, granddaughter of the original Joy of Joy’s House of Java, brought out their order at that moment, saving her from adding to her verbal discomfort.
Tom lifted his cinnamon roll and took a heaping, healthy bite.
“This place makes great pastries.” He licked the icing from his lips. “I remember coming to Heaven as a kid to visit my grandmother, and she always brought me here on Sundays after church.”
“I think they get them from the Sweet Bye and Buy,” Charity said, knowing they did.
“No lie?” He shook his head. “I always thought they made them on-site. That’s a bummer.”
Why it mattered baffled her. Trying to find some balance, she asked, “So you didn’t grow up in Heaven?”
“Nope.” He wiped his mouth with a napkin.
“My paternal grandparents did. My dad couldn’t leave this burg fast enough.
Once he turned eighteen, he was outta here.
” He hiked his thumb over his shoulder to underscore it.
“Looking for greener and warmer pastures. I could never understand that because I think New England is a beautiful place to live.”
“I agree. Where did you grow up?”
“Arizona. Dad landed there after traveling cross country on his bike-motorcycle-met my mom, and so the saying goes, never looked back. I grew up during record heat waves and always longed for the four seasons. I wanted snow in my backyard and not have to drive for eight hours in the car to see it. Living here gives me that. How about you? Are you a true Heavenite?”
As far from it as possible, she thought.
Shaking her head, she said, “I was raised in the South.”
His brows rose slightly. “A Southern belle. Well, this is my lucky day.” His lips pulled back into a grin she could admit was charming and just a tad naughty. His top two teeth overlapped slightly, giving his smile that hand-caught-in-the-cookie-jar appeal she was surprised to realize she liked.
She knew someone else with that kind of expression.
They talked and drank their coffee for the next hour, Charity’s nerves finally settling when he told her about his dog, a four-year-old labrador that ruled his life.
Charity loved dogs, had grown up with them, and missed having one.
But because of her busy work-life, she didn’t want to subject a dog to long stretches of time alone. That just didn’t seem fair.
“I agree.” Tom nodded. “Since I work from home, Maggie always has company in the house, and so do I.”
“Don’t you miss being around other people during the day, though? I don’t mean that to sound rude, but I just know I’d miss having human interaction.”
This time, he shook his head. “Not so much. I worked in an office at my last job and it was ridiculously stressful. People were always stopping by my cubicle, asking questions, wanting to see where I was at with a project, trying to talk about their personal dramas. I like it to be quiet when I’m working.
I don’t even turn on music when I’m in the zone.
That’s the reason I can produce so fast. No distractions.
Other than taking Maggie for a midday walk, there are times I don’t see another person for days. I like that.”
“And yet,” Charity tilted her head, “you hired a matchmaker.”
He grinned again. “Kinda counterintuitive, right? A loner hiring someone who’s going to make sure they meet someone special?
” He took a sip of his coffee. “In all honesty, I’d heard great things about Mrs. Joyner from a client.
He knew I was new to town and was more than eager to tell me how he’d recently married, a match set up by her, and that she was renowned.
I’m at a point in my life where I want someone.
” He shrugged, then blew out a breath. “My parents have been married for over thirty-five-years, all their friends, too and I just want that. I want to share my days and nights with a woman I can admire, love, and grow a family with. As an only, I’ve always craved a big family. ”
Charity smiled. “Says someone who’s never experienced sibling squabbles.”
“Do you have sibs?”
It took every bit of willpower she could muster not to roll her eyes, like she did whenever she thought of them. “Five brothers. All older, all obnoxious. They’re ridiculously protective, nosy, and it’s a wonder I survived my teen years.”
A slow smile dragged across his mouth. “You adore them, don’t you?”
Surprised at his intuitiveness, and pleased as well, she shook her head. “But for the life of me, I don’t know why.”
“Coming from a big family, do you want kids, too?”
“Definitely."
That smile grew.
Just then, her phone beeped with an incoming text. “I’m sorry, this is work,” she said when Kolby’s number trailed across the screen.
The Middleson’s r here for their appointmt w/me & r asking to speak 2 you. Where are u?
She sent off a quick reply.
B right there.
She gathered the sweater she’d brought in case it was chilly in the coffeehouse, her bag, and rose. Tom came to his feet as well.
“I’m sorry,” she said, meaning it. “I’ve got to get back to the office.” She held out her hand and smiled. “Thanks again for making the trek over here. It was lovely to meet you.”
He took her hand and then a step closer and pecked her cheek. The gesture was so sweet she felt her heart skip a beat. “The pleasure was all mine. Truly.” He pressed her hand to underscore it.
Knowing Liv’s rules about a meet and greet date, neither of them made plans to see one another again. They first needed to have a post-date analysis with the matchmaker.
“Safe travels home,” she said. “It was nice meeting you.”
As she walked back to the office, she hauled in a breath, a tiny smile gracing her lips.
Maybe things were finally looking up.
She took that thought with her for the rest of the day.