Rekindled by Barbara Delinsky

finished stowing the bike in its proper spot and advanced on her with a grin. Relieving her of the large brown bag she’d been carrying, he took her elbow and guided her toward the house. “Not yet.”
    “You’re going back to Lee’s?”
    “Not yet.”
    “Then what are you going to do?”
    He held the door open for her to pass, and followed her into the kitchen, where he began to unload and store the groceries as though the place were his. “I want to make a few phone calls.” He glanced at his watch. “Then wash the car, catch the end of the Giants game, shower and shave, and take you out to dinner.”
    His recitation was so nonchalant that Chloe would have guessed he spent every October Saturday this way, at least as far as the first part went. As for taking her out to dinner, it had certainly never happened before.
    “It’s unnecessary,” she said.
    “Which part-the calls, the car, the game, or the shower?”
    “The dinner! Lunch was enough to even us up. There’s no need for anything more.”
    A muscle worked in Ross’s jaw. “It’s not tit-foretat, Chloe. I’d like to take you out to dinner.”
    “I appreciate the thought, but-“
    “No buts. We’re going out for dinner. Period.”
    “What if I have other plans?”
    He arched a dark brow. “Do you?”
    “I could just as well,” she hedged, “for the way you just assume I’m free.”
    “Well, are you?”
    It wasn’t that she didn’t want to go to dinner with Ross. On the contrary. She liked being with him. She just didn’t want to get used to it.
    “Chloe?”
    “Yes,” she said, sighing. “I’m free.”
    :”Good. Say, about eight?”
    ,:But-“
    Eight it is. And Chloe?”
    She felt totally helpless. “What?”
    “How about if we dress up?”
    “Dress up? I haven’t ‘dressed up’ in months. Things here are very casual. There’s nowhere-“
    “There is,” he argued gently. “Leave that to me.”
    Chloe lowered her eyes and studied the floor, then slowly shook her head. “Ross, I’d really rather-“
    “For old times’ sake?” he dared ask. “Today we played ‘far out.’ Tonight, let’s play in.’ Come on. How about it? Just this once?”
    The odd note of pleading in his voice brought Chloe’s head slowly up. He looked so innocent, so hopeful, that she couldn’t turn him down. “Just this once,” she gave in softly, forcing the semblance of a smile to ;Minerable lips.
    There was no semblance of anything in Ross’s smile. It was blatantly broad and open, relieved and pleased. It warmed her, reassured her, amused her. And it most definitely excited her.
    That terrified her.
    Before she could back out, though, he said, “It’s a date. See you at eight.”
    He turned and made for the phone, leaving Chloe to gather the pieces of her fast-splintering resolve and struggle with makeshift repairs before evening rolled around.
    It wasn’t an easy task. Ross seemed to be everywhere she turned. He used her office to make his calls, lounging back in her chair, legs long and straight, crossed lazily at the ankles, propped on the corner of her desk.
    His presence filled the room so that it took a conscious effort on Chloe’s part to quietly creep in and steal her own work. He followed her every move with interest, though he was at the same time maddeningly capable of carrying on his end of what was obviously a business discussion.
    After retreating to the back porch to bask in the rays of the westward sun, she put her best effort into organizing the papers on her lap. But her best effort was sadly lacking. Her mind wandered. Then Ross appeared in the flesh to ask about a bucket, a sponge, and some old towels. He was right on schedule, his self-satisfied air announced. He vanished, then reappeared and deposited the car-wash gear on the sandy grass beside the very same porch on which she sat.
    Would he do it here? she wondered. The smooth hum of his car’s engine as he pulled the vehicle close by the side of the house was