loyal and trusted friend, but the girl had no filter for her thoughts. I sent a silent request to the universe that she wouldn’t say anything inappropriate in front of Dave.
“Just working hard, preparing for the Falling Leaves Festival today,” I said. (Aka: trying to make rent, not lose the apartment I loved, that kind of thing.) I had my dream job—beading jewelry at my kitchen table with a view of Big Mountain out my window—but selling my treasured creations at art fairs didn’t exactly stuff my bank account full.
“Oh, right. The festival is the reason you’ve been busy.” Michele gave me a pointed look, threw her gaze at Dave, then twisted back toward me. “Sure . . .”
My cheeks heated. I loved Michele, but her bluntness was so not helpful right now.
“This is Dave.” I gestured toward my gorgeous date, hoping my friend didn’t start an inquisition like I suspected she was itching to do. “He just moved here from Seattle. Dave, this is my good friend Michele. She and I bike together, among other things.”
“Hi, Michele.” He smiled, holding out his arm.
“Nice to meet you, Dave.” She squeezed his hand, giving him an approving look. Then she leaned toward him, wearing a playful expression. “Don’t keep Holly all to yourself now. We had her first.”
Oh, embarrassment! Heat rose to my cheeks, but I couldn’t pause to explain this was only our first date. Michele was totally going to hear it from me later, though.
Dave’s eyes crinkled and he raised his brows slightly at me, as if he’d guessed that Michele could be a little overwhelming at times. For the second time that day, I felt like he understood me. My heart warmed. Then I remembered my mom’s advice to take it slow, keep it light, and get to know him better before I plunged in head first.
Being reasonable was so not my first choice.
“Would you like to hear our specials this evening?” Michele ran through her spiel with a huge grin on her face the entire time. I got the impression she felt I was hiding something—like Dave and I were closer than I was letting on.
So far, only in my daydreams. . . .
“I think we need a few minutes to look over the menu, but I’ve heard there’s a great local brew I need to try.” Dave shared a glance with me before ordering us a couple pints of my favorite beer. “Could we also start with the chips and salsa?” His hand slid across the table and touched mine. “Does that sound good to you, Holly?”
My skin hummed from the brush of his skin against mine, and I tilted my head. “Chips and salsa with beer? Only my favorite combo.”
“Glad to hear that.” His mouth curved upward in an enticing way that made me wonder what his lips would feel like against my cheek, against my mouth. . . .
“I’ll put your order in right away,” Michele said, interrupting my thoughts. Then she took off after giving me a smirk that said she knew exactly where my mind had gone.
My cheeks heated for the second time since we’d sat down so I knotted my hands together in my lap and stared at my open menu, hoping Dave was doing the same and wouldn’t notice my face was on fire.
I didn’t want to colossally embarrass myself when I looked at him, so my best bet seemed to be to concentrate on what I wanted for dinner. Unfortunately, my eyes scanned the options but my brain retained zilch. I kept my head down as Michele returned with our beers, then she hurried to a table next to ours.
An awkward silence stretched out until I couldn’t take the sound of crackling embers from the fireplace or laughter from across the restaurant anymore. I peeked over at Dave and found him watching me.
“What?” I blurted.
His gaze held mine. “Just glad I went to the festival today.”
An electric jolt zipped through my tummy. “Me, too,” I admitted.
His mouth crept into a smile that made me want to ignore my mom’s warning. The excitement inside me only seemed to be growing, but I knew I needed to hold
“Just working hard, preparing for the Falling Leaves Festival today,” I said. (Aka: trying to make rent, not lose the apartment I loved, that kind of thing.) I had my dream job—beading jewelry at my kitchen table with a view of Big Mountain out my window—but selling my treasured creations at art fairs didn’t exactly stuff my bank account full.
“Oh, right. The festival is the reason you’ve been busy.” Michele gave me a pointed look, threw her gaze at Dave, then twisted back toward me. “Sure . . .”
My cheeks heated. I loved Michele, but her bluntness was so not helpful right now.
“This is Dave.” I gestured toward my gorgeous date, hoping my friend didn’t start an inquisition like I suspected she was itching to do. “He just moved here from Seattle. Dave, this is my good friend Michele. She and I bike together, among other things.”
“Hi, Michele.” He smiled, holding out his arm.
“Nice to meet you, Dave.” She squeezed his hand, giving him an approving look. Then she leaned toward him, wearing a playful expression. “Don’t keep Holly all to yourself now. We had her first.”
Oh, embarrassment! Heat rose to my cheeks, but I couldn’t pause to explain this was only our first date. Michele was totally going to hear it from me later, though.
Dave’s eyes crinkled and he raised his brows slightly at me, as if he’d guessed that Michele could be a little overwhelming at times. For the second time that day, I felt like he understood me. My heart warmed. Then I remembered my mom’s advice to take it slow, keep it light, and get to know him better before I plunged in head first.
Being reasonable was so not my first choice.
“Would you like to hear our specials this evening?” Michele ran through her spiel with a huge grin on her face the entire time. I got the impression she felt I was hiding something—like Dave and I were closer than I was letting on.
So far, only in my daydreams. . . .
“I think we need a few minutes to look over the menu, but I’ve heard there’s a great local brew I need to try.” Dave shared a glance with me before ordering us a couple pints of my favorite beer. “Could we also start with the chips and salsa?” His hand slid across the table and touched mine. “Does that sound good to you, Holly?”
My skin hummed from the brush of his skin against mine, and I tilted my head. “Chips and salsa with beer? Only my favorite combo.”
“Glad to hear that.” His mouth curved upward in an enticing way that made me wonder what his lips would feel like against my cheek, against my mouth. . . .
“I’ll put your order in right away,” Michele said, interrupting my thoughts. Then she took off after giving me a smirk that said she knew exactly where my mind had gone.
My cheeks heated for the second time since we’d sat down so I knotted my hands together in my lap and stared at my open menu, hoping Dave was doing the same and wouldn’t notice my face was on fire.
I didn’t want to colossally embarrass myself when I looked at him, so my best bet seemed to be to concentrate on what I wanted for dinner. Unfortunately, my eyes scanned the options but my brain retained zilch. I kept my head down as Michele returned with our beers, then she hurried to a table next to ours.
An awkward silence stretched out until I couldn’t take the sound of crackling embers from the fireplace or laughter from across the restaurant anymore. I peeked over at Dave and found him watching me.
“What?” I blurted.
His gaze held mine. “Just glad I went to the festival today.”
An electric jolt zipped through my tummy. “Me, too,” I admitted.
His mouth crept into a smile that made me want to ignore my mom’s warning. The excitement inside me only seemed to be growing, but I knew I needed to hold
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