They turned a corner at the end of the main strip of shops, heading toward the dog park while Truffle trotted happily in front of them.
“Rob Halpert is at home all the time because he’s retired. And seventy-two.” She laughed. “You want me to date someone old enough to be my grandpa because he’ll be ‘around more.’ Seriously?”
“What about someone who’s creative?” Oh no, that sounded like he was describing himself again. “Like a model-train builder.”
“Is this model train builder also seventy years old?”
“It was just a suggestion. All I’m saying is, Elijah might not be the best choice. You know marriage is a big commitment.” He cleared his throat. “You want to enter into it with someone who’ll be able to spend time with you and not be…doing weights and working all the time.”
They came to the edge of the park, and Angie shielded her eyes as she looked up at him. He wasn’t so good at reading all her expressions, but this one had a definite tone of WTF about it.
“If it’s all the same to you, Jace, seventy-year-old creative model-train builders are not my type. I know, shocking.” She shook her head. “And perhaps it’s best if I go on my date with Elijah and determine for myself whether we’re a good match.”
Jace looked down at Truffle, who peered back up at him as if to say, You’re on your own with this one, buddy.
“Who knows,” Angie continued. “Maybe I’ll be able to see if all that time spent in the gym has made him good husband material or not.”
Ugh. Jace wasn’t sure what he wanted to do more: throw up or sabotage her date.
Chapter Ten
“Earth to Angie!”
A hand with flashing diamonds yanked Angie from her thoughts. She’d been a space cadet all morning, frequently letting her mind wander to what might happen on her date this afternoon. For some unknown reason, she was having mixed feelings about the whole thing. It was exciting, but something felt…off.
“Sorry.” She shook her head. “Whose turn is it?”
“Yours!” all three of her poker buddies chorused in exasperated unison.
“All right, all right.” Angie glanced at her cards, which were a whole lot of nothing. “Fold.”
“What’s wrong with you today?” Meredith asked with a frown. “You come in here with your head floating in the clouds, and you can’t pay attention for more than three seconds.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s… I’m distracted.”
“That much is obvious,” Jean huffed, adjusting her glasses. “You’re slowing down the rate of play.”
“You got somewhere to be?” Betty asked her friend with a raise of her silver brow.
Jean looked down at her cards and shook her head, but a telltale pink flush colored her cheeks. Now that Angie thought about it, something looked different about her. Was that…lipstick?
“You look pretty today, Jean.” Angie cocked her head.
It wasn’t only the lipstick, either. Jean’s usual outfit of slacks with a sensible short-sleeve shirt had been updated. Today she wore a blouse that was baby blue—to match her eyes—and covered in a fine print of yellow and white flowers.
She made an indignant snorting sound as if the compliment was ridiculous. “I don’t look any different than normal.”
Angie leaned over and sucked in a breath, catching a whiff of something delightfully floral. YSL Paris, if she wasn’t mistaken. One of her foster moms had worn it religiously.
“You smell nice, too.” Angie narrowed her eyes. “And you’re wearing mascara!”
Jean looked like a deer caught in headlights—her widened eyes magnified by her thick-rimmed glasses. Her snow-white hair was curled and cropped, and she even had on a pair of simple pearl studs, rather than her usual thin hoops.
“She’s dressing up and she wants to rush through our game.” Betty tapped a finger to her chin. “Most unusual. What’s on the schedule after this?”
“The barbecue lunch.” Meredith snapped her fingers. “Marcus is going to be there. I overheard him chatting with Davis about his prowess on the grill.”
“Stop it.” Jean shook her head. “All of you. Nothing is different. I simply felt like putting on a nice top today. Is that such a crime?”
“It’s okay if you have a crush on someone, Jean.” Angie pressed her palm to the older woman’s arm.
For some reason, Elijah wasn’t the face that popped into her head. Oh no, she got a crystal-clear image of a crooked-smiling, blue-eyed comic artist instead. Most inconvenient.
“I think it’s sweet,” she added.
“You’re all talking bloody nonsense.” Jean folded her arms across her chest and glowered at them. “You should hear yourselves.”
“Oh, come on. I can’t be the only one who’s got a date planned for today,” Angie said with a wink.
Three sets of eyes turned to her.
“You do? Tell us everything.” Meredith put the cards down, and the poker game was forgotten for some good old-fashioned gossiping.
Maybe it was a sad indictment on Angie’s life, but all she’d ever wanted was an older relative to talk to about this stuff. A big sister, a mother, an aunt…someone who cared enough to listen to her hopes and fears, to her dreams. To offer advice based on their years of experience. To have these women as part of her life now, like three amazing grandmothers…well, it made her even more determined to stay in Patterson’s Bluff.
“Yes, I have a date. He runs a restaurant, and he’s very successful…and good-looking.” She felt the need to tack that on as if it somehow validated her choice. But the circling thoughts that had distracted her all through her volunteer shift surrounded the total lack of chemistry she felt running into Elijah yesterday.
It didn’t make sense. He was devastatingly handsome—that was a fact. And he seemed thoughtful and intelligent, if a little serious. His business was one of the most well-regarded in Patterson’s Bluff. So she’d plowed on and suggested they meet up, following Chloe’s advice. Elijah had said yes without hesitation. And yet…
Wasn’t there supposed to be a zing? Some kind of tingling sensation that told her they’d work well together? Butterflies?
Give it a chance. You talked to him for all of five minutes, and half of that was while Truffle humped his leg. Not exactly the most romantic setup.
True. Maybe she was too worked up about this whole thing—too stressed about her looming deportation date—and that was killing the vibe.
“What are you doing on your date?” Betty asked.
“Grabbing a bite to eat. He’s invited me to come to his restaurant and sample some of the new dishes they’ve been working on.”
Meredith frowned. “So he’s taking you to work?”
“Well, no…not exactly.” But yeah…kinda. “It’s going to be fun. I love trying new food.”
Her comment was met with three unconvinced faces. Betty shook her head. “That’s not a date. Back in my day—”
“Here we go.” Meredith rolled her eyes good-naturedly.
“A date was dinner and dancing,” Betty continued. “My John had all the moves. Still does, when his arthritis isn’t flaring up. He made me feel like a princess on the dance floor.”
“People don’t really go dancing anymore,” Angie replied. “Although I wish we did; it sounds like fun.”
“That’s what a date should be. Fun, something different than what you do in your normal day-to-day life.” Betty reached over and patted her hand. “If he’s taking you to work on date number one, imagine what it will be like on date a hundred and one. He’ll probably suggest you help him sort his recycling.”
Maybe Betty had a point. Elijah had seemed so excited about showing her the new menu, though, and from all accounts he was extremely passionate about what he did. His restaurant was responsible for keeping two local farms in busine
ss when they’d been on the brink of bankruptcy. And he’d been at the forefront of championing the reduction of single-use plastics in the town.
Angie admired Elijah…but was that enough?
“If he’s the right guy for you, you’ll know it,” Jean added. “That feeling is unmistakable.”
“I dated a man once who took me in a helicopter on our first date.” Meredith’s gaze had drifted away, as though she were watching the past play like a film on-screen. “It was so romantic. We flew over the countryside and had a picnic in this open field. He’d brought wine and fresh bread and cheese.”
“Sounds magical,” Angie mused.
“It was.” For a moment, Meredith only twisted her ring around her finger. But then the dreamy gaze disappeared, replaced by her usual sharp and focused expression. “But, alas, it was not to be.”
“How come?”
“He wanted marriage, and I didn’t.” Meredith winked as the retirement home’s event planner came into the room and announced that the barbecue was about to start.
The common area was already mostly vacated, and the remaining residents got to their feet so they could all file outside. Angie offered to help take one of the gentlemen, who needed assistance with his wheelchair. As they slowly made their way out to the courtyard, Angie caught sight of Jean fluffing up her hair in the reflection of a window.
There was a sparkle to her eyes, a mischievous excitement that gave her the aura of a woman decades younger. Despite her adamant denial, it was clear there was something going on. Marcus stood at one of the barbecues, turning sausages with one hand, his other holding his cane close. But his eyes kept flicking to the line of people snaking through the open double doors. When they landed on Jean, a smile softened the sharp angles of his handsome face. He gave her a subtle nod, and she pretended not to notice. Typical Jean, stubborn as ever.
But her eyes skimmed over him the second he turned away, and she fiddled with a slim chain-link bracelet around her wrist. Twisting and turning so the links caught the light.
Angie couldn’t help but grin. There was something so exciting about a crush—even if she wasn’t the one experiencing it. Maybe Patterson’s Bluff was the right place to fall in love? It certainly seemed as though there was something in the air.
But as her volunteer shift drew to a close, Angie found herself not particularly looking forward to her date. In truth, she’d rather go back home and watch another rom-com with Jace while the dogs were curled up at their feet.
Now you know you’re going crazy. Since when do your fantasies include dogs?
…
By the time Angie made it home from her “date,” she was starting to wish she’d never told anyone about it. No doubt there would be questions. It wasn’t like the night had been horrible—in fact, she’d most certainly had worse. But Elijah had been distracted, being interrupted every few minutes by staff from the kitchen. At one point, he’d left her sitting there so he could deal with a problem, and she’d contemplated sneaking out. It was obvious to them both that they had about as much chemistry as overcooked spaghetti.
Angie was unlocking the little gate at the side of Jace’s house, still in her outfit from the date, when she spotted him heading up the path. Ugh, she couldn’t act like she hadn’t seen him. That would be rude.
Tilly and Truffle trotted happily in front of him, and Angie waved. “How is the terrible twosome doing today?”
“Truffle hasn’t humped anything, so that’s a win.” His crooked smile set flutters in her stomach.
“You’re a pro.” She brushed her hands down the front of her dress, feeling even sillier that she’d gotten all dolled up. It had all been for nothing.
“New dress?” he asked as if reading her mind.
“Yeah.” Suddenly self-conscious, she wrapped her arms around herself. “So what’s your recommendation for a post-crappy-date activity? I would usually cry into a bucket of ice cream Bridget Jones–style while watching a romantic movie.”
Better to get it out in the open, she figured. Cover her disappointment with a self-deprecating joke.
Jace nodded. “It didn’t go well?”
“Uh, no. Not really.”
His expression was hard to read. “I haven’t had dinner yet. Do you feel like going for a drive?”
In spite of her mood, the thought of getting away from the flat and distracting herself sounded like bliss. “Actually, yeah, I do.”
Five minutes later, they were on the road in Jace’s car—a practical Ford SUV with a rack on the roof that held his surfboard. It was a funny contrast—like most things about Jace—because the car itself had a distinct “soccer mom” vibe, right down to the meticulously clean interior. But the brightly colored surfboard would look better suited to some peace and love Volkswagen van.
“So,” he said, drumming his fingers against the steering wheel as they paused at an intersection. “The date was a bust?”
“It was…fine.” She bobbed her head, trying to figure out what exactly had gone wrong. Elijah was a great guy—charming but serious, passionate about his work. Hell, the guy was A+ loving-relationship material on paper.
But in person…fizzle city.
“Not exactly a rousing endorsement.” Jace’s gaze slid over to her, his lip pulled up into a smirk.
For some reason, that pissed her off. He’d been baffled about the whole “expediting true love” thing from the second she admitted her plans. Clearly telling him was a mistake.
“I should have enjoyed myself,” she muttered. What was wrong with her? A cute guy had taken her to his lovely restaurant, where she’d picked at her food and counted down the seconds until it was over. Sure, he’d been a bit distracted, but was that so bad in the scheme of things? He was ambitious. It was an admirable trait.
You were bored.
There was no denying it. A handsome face was not enough to give Angie the “snap, crackle, and pop” she’d seen in the movies.
“What went wrong?” Jace asked.
“Honestly? I don’t know. There wasn’t anything particularly bad about it.” She sighed. “But there wasn’t anything particularly good about it, either.”
Flipping the visor down in front of her, she inspected herself in the mirror. A lick of mascara, a bare dusting of bronzer, and tinted lip balm enhanced her features, but she felt a little plain despite the overtly feminine dress. A little…not her best.
Maybe the problem is with you. You don’t feel attractive.
“What would have made it better?”
The coast blurred past. The sky blended into the water at the horizon and the little parking lots that dotted the side of the road were full of people coming and going. Families, mostly. She pulled her gaze away.
“I guess it was missing that spark. I didn’t feel like I was anticipating anything.”
He turned his beast of a car into a sweeping corner that revealed the main strip of Sorrento. Jace hadn’t told her a word about what they were doing, only that she should get into the car and trust him. Which she did.
“Like, when you meet someone you’re attracted to and your stomach gets that twisty-turny feeling.” She looked at him, her stomach feeling more than a little twisty turny at that very moment. “And when the date ends, you’re already hoping for another chance to see them.”
“You’re not hoping to see Elijah again?”
“Not in that capacity. But maybe I should have been prepared with more questions to ask. I can’t put all the blame on him.” She watched the scenery change as they pulled onto the main strip. Sorrento was a beautiful town farther along the coast, bigger and more popular than Patterson’s Bluff. The street inclined up the landscape, and a grand old building crowded the bottom corner. Cars lined the street, where shops and restaurants sat in a colorful row. “Are we here?”
“We certainly are.” He pu
lled the car into an empty parking spot next to a Ferrari.
An actual Ferrari.
“Gee, I bet you feel good until you come here,” she said, and to her surprise, a laugh burst forth from his lips.
“It’s changed a lot since I was a kid.” He killed the engine and pushed open the door.
Angie stepped down from the SUV, being extra careful not to let her door anywhere near the lipstick-red sports car. The only person she’d ever known to drive a Ferrari was the lawyer who’d upended her life—and he wasn’t the kind of guy Angie wanted to go near ever again.
“So what are we doing here?” She looked up and down the street, which was bustling with people, many of whom looked as though they’d come from the beach. Given she’d been so uncomfortable on her date that she’d barely eaten, she was now officially starving.
“We’re going right here… Well, kind of.” He nodded toward a small fish-and-chips place in front of them. It didn’t have any seating, but a line snaked out the door and spilled onto the street. He ran a hand through his dark hair and the perfect waves sprang stubbornly back into place. “I’m introducing you to a Walters family tradition.”
“Which is?”
“Fresh fish and chips overlooking the ocean. We used to do it every weekend during the summer as kids. We’ll order our food here, and then I’ll drive us to the Sorrento Back Beach.” He nodded. “It’ll be fun.”
She couldn’t help but laugh at the way he said it, like what he deemed fun was a fact rather than an opinion. He was certainly a black-or-white kind of guy like that. Which, honestly, in a world where everything felt so uncertain, she found to be totally and utterly comforting.
“I thought this might cheer you up,” he added. “You can be part of my family today. This is what we do when someone is feeling down.”
Angie caught herself staring up at him, her heart full with his sweet and unexpected gesture. But that sweetness was edged with something else. A deeper attraction that made her heart beat a little faster and her hands tingle with anticipation. She wondered what it would be like to taste him, to swipe her tongue along the soft, pillowy edge of his lower lip as she kissed him. Like if he’d actually responded to her silent invitation the day they’d watched the movie together.
The Aussie Next Door Page 11
