Blind Date. Cheryl Porter Anne
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“No. I’m his great-nephew. My grandmother was his late wife’s sister.”
Still holding onto the doorknob, she said, “Sounds complicated.”
“What hasn’t been so far?”
“True. But just so you know—” she narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms “—I have pepper spray in my purse, and I’m not afraid to use it.”
That slowed Joe down for a second. “Okay. But you should know I carry a small Swiss Army knife, most of the functions of which I have no idea.”
While she digested that, Joe flicked his gaze up and down her, deciding she looked damn nice in pants. Long legs. She also filled out her T-shirt admirably. And her hair looked like she’d just climbed out of bed…and not in a bad way, either.
Because the silence between them was getting long and awkward, Joe said, “Tried on any good clothes lately?”
Her expression crumpled in amused embarrassment. “I cannot believe I did that. I am still absolutely mortified.”
Instantly charmed, Joe grinned. “It wasn’t all that bad, was it?”
She wagged a scolding finger at him. “Yes, it was. And I told you we couldn’t ever see each other again.”
“I don’t remember agreeing to that.”
“True. But then you have to promise you will not, under any circumstances, ever bring up that incident again.”
Still feeling devilish, and pretty sure she could take a joke when it was on her, Joe replied, “You mean the part where you were half-naked in the men’s fitting rooms and poked your booty in my face?”
Crying out, she slapped at his arm—and missed because he danced back just in time. “I said don’t bring it up.”
Joe held up both hands in surrender. “Okay, it’s in the vault. I swear.”
“Good.” She relaxed enough to lean against the doorjamb and again cross her arms under her excellent breasts. He wished like hell she’d quit doing that and drawing his attention there. Or maybe he didn’t. “Seriously, what are you doing here tonight?” she said, drawing his attention back to her face. “Maury told me Saturday night.”
“And he told me tonight. He gets things wrong sometimes.”
Her expression radiated fond affection. “I know. But he’s such a sweet little man. Other than that, I don’t know what to say, Joe. I can’t really show you around Tampa tonight.” She turned just enough to look back inside her apartment before facing him again. “Or maybe I can. Or should. I don’t know. I don’t want to be here if…”
“Are we talking about Carl?”
She wrinkled her nose as if the man’s name smelled bad. “Yes. I told him not to come over, that I had plans—”
“Which didn’t include me.”
“Right. I have to return a dress. Which means I don’t have anything to wear right now. And that means we can’t go out tonight.”
Joe made it a rule never to try to understand or argue with feminine logic. Still, he stopped short of saying that she could go naked, for all he cared. “Well, if it makes any difference, you look great to me just as you are.”
She glanced down at herself. “I don’t know. I was going to wear—I mean tomorrow night—this little red, sleeveless linen sheath with tiny rows of embroidered stitching all around the hem that I bought. But then I decided I didn’t really like it and should take it back—” She cut off her own words. “You don’t care, do you.”
Joe shook his head apologetically. “It’s not that I don’t care. It’s just that, like most men, I’m genetically programmed to understand only football rules and beer commercials. All I heard of what you said was la-la-la-linen, la-la-la-stitching.”
She laughed. “You poor Neanderthal. It’s lonely out there in the cave, isn’t it.”
“It is. And it’s cold. But we have great hopes for something called fire.”
Certain they were now on better footing, Joe added, “So, here’s a plan. We go out tonight and tomorrow night. That way, neither one of us has it wrong. Or has to admit it. Or will be here should Carl show up.”
“He’d better not.” But still, she stood there as she looked up at him with those big, brown bedroom eyes.
“So, what’s Colorado like? Lots of cowboys and snowmobiles?”
All right, she was still undecided and this was a stall tactic. Joe wondered, though, if she felt the same subtle force he did, the one that urged him to step closer to her. “Let’s see…Colorado. Well, it’s rocky, like you’d expect. Mountainous. Trees everywhere. And cold. Lots of snow. A few cowboys. Now it’s your turn. Where are you from? Uncle Maury didn’t tell me much about you, except that you are beautiful and have a great personality.”
A tinge of pink stained her cheeks as she shook her head. “Maury exaggerates.”
“Not in this case.”
“And now you’re just being nice. I’m a native Floridian, from Gainesville, where my family still lives. And I teach third grade.”
“Gainesville, huh? Go ’Gators. But third grade? Suddenly, I understand your need for pepper spray.”
Again she laughed. “They’re not as bad as all that. But their parents…” A dramatic roll of her eyes completed her joke.
Joe didn’t know what to say next, so he just stood there grinning and nodding—like an idiot, he feared. An awkward silence fell over them and slowly became painful.
“So,” he said abruptly, causing Meg to blink, “is this the actual date? The two of us standing here, you inside, me outside, talking?”
“Oh. No. Sorry.” She stepped aside and gestured for him to enter. “It’s not a date, but come in.”
He took a step forward.
“Or should I just get my purse?”
Joe stopped, waiting for her to decide.
“No, come in.”
Joe started forward again.
“Oh, darn, I still need to return that dress to the store, and I was on my way out when you knocked.”
Wanting to forestall any further doorway do-si-do, Joe suggested, “Why don’t we just return the dress when we’re out on our not-a-date?”
She brightened, smiling. “You wouldn’t mind? Really? Or maybe I should just wear the new dress.”
Joe thought he had her figured out well enough by now to say, “But you hate the new dress. And don’t go change clothes. You look fine to me in what you have on. Besides, I don’t have any big, fancy plans for this evening.”
“You don’t? Why not?”
Clearly she meant, Am I not worth it?
Joe thought fast. “I just meant it’s your town, Meg. I thought I’d be ready for anything you might want to do. That’s why I dressed like this.” He indicated his casual attire—jeans, neatly belted, and maroon knit shirt.
That seemed to satisfy her. “Okay. I was going to suggest dinner and then I’d show you the city…but tomorrow night, so I’m kind of disappointed.”
“I still don’t understand why we can’t do it tonight.”
“Because the free concert at Centro Ybor isn’t until tomorrow.”
“Yeah, that makes it hard.” Joe’s frown was for the unfamiliar term. “What’s Centro Ee-bore? Where’s that?”
Her