He looked good. He wore jeans with a hunter green casual button-down shirt over a black tee. He grinned and walked toward me. “Hey, there.”
We stood facing each other. He smelled like sunshine and fresh air and guy…all magically rolled together. I reminded myself that this was just for show.
“You look nice,” he said.
I blushed. “Thanks,” I said. “You do, too.”
He smiled again. His dimple appeared on his left cheek.
Just for show, just for show.
“Oh, you’re here. Great! We can get started.” Josh appeared and motioned Elle over.
“Dang, we missed you coming in,” she said. “Any way you could do it again?”
Chance looked at her.
“You want me to walk in the bookstore again?”
“Well, yeah. We want to capture you coming in, the whole thing.”
He nodded, brows crinkled. “Okaaay.” He looked at me, then turned and went back outside. I waved at him through the glass window. He shook his head.
“Ready?” she asked me.
I wasn’t sure what she was expecting, but I nodded. “Yep.”
She walked over to the door and opened it a crack. This whole thing made me glad Thursdays were our slow night. The guy in the back was still nowhere to be seen. Maybe we’d scared him off.
“Okay, now when you come in, just act natural. Like you weren’t already in. Go over and say hi and act like you’re seeing her for the first time tonight, got it?”
“Got it,” he said.
Josh bent over his audio box, frowning and turning some dials.
“Elle, can you ask Chance to say something?”
“Chance, say something,” she called out the door.
“What?” he yelled back. He looked confused.
Josh fiddled some more, then stood up.
“Wait, Chance! You forgot to turn your mic on.” Josh walked over to the door now, too. He pointed to Chance’s shirt. “Your mic.”
“Oh shoot, sorry.” Chance fumbled with the tiny switch on the side of his mic. “There. Am I on now?” he called.
Josh held his hand to his ear. “Ow. Yeah. You’re on.” He walked back and adjusted a dial.
“Okay, here we go.”
Josh and Elle backed up, out of the range of the door and seating area. Once again, Chance entered the store. While I appreciated that both Josh and Elle clearly made an effort to remain as invisible as possible, it still felt silly this time, not natural like when he’d first come in. We went through the whole greeting-each-other thing, but it felt awkward. I wanted it to get back to feeling like it was just us again.
Chance seemed to know what I was thinking without me saying a word.
“Why don’t you show me around a little. What’s a typical day like for you when you’re here?”
I led him around the store, pointing out the different sections, telling him about some of my job duties.
“So you mentioned before that you like to read,” he said.
“I love it. I honestly can’t imagine a world without books, without reading.” I looked around at the shelves of books surrounding us, so many of them familiar friends to me. “I think, to me, reading is such a great escape whenever things going on in my life are too much, ya know? There are all these worlds I can travel to, or characters whose lives I can live for just a little while.”
I stopped. “Do I sound ridiculous?”
He shook his head. “Not at all,” he said softly. “What’s your favorite?”
“My favorite book?”
He nodded.
“I don’t know if I could pick just one, I have so many that I love for different reasons.” As we walked together, I trailed my fingers along the spines of the books on the shelves. He reached up and placed his hand over mine when I paused.
“Is this one of them?” His hand, still over mine, reached for the book where I’d just lingered.
I told myself not to read anything into it—he was simply reaching for a book, nothing more. And besides, we were supposed to be doing this, Operation Romance in action, that was all this was. But even telling myself that didn’t stop the butterflies in my stomach from fluttering at his touch.
I nodded.
He pulled the book from the shelf and checked out the title. “I’ve never read it.”
“I must have read it five times at least.”
“That good, huh?”
“Definitely.” I smiled.
“Well in that case…” He held out his other hand, the one not holding the book. “Follow me.”
I cocked my head.
He leaned in. “Remember that trust thing we talked about?” He grinned, and the dimple came out again.
I smiled and accepted. Our hands fit together perfectly. I’d somehow known they would.
He led me back to the front of the store and sat down on the loveseat, pulling me down next to him. He leaned his head back against the wide winged arms of the sofa and let go of my hand.
I missed his touch immediately.
I didn’t have to miss it long. He reached over and pulled me closer, wrapping his left arm around me, so I was kind of leaning up against him. I thought it should feel awkward, but it didn’t. It felt…nice. I tucked my legs up beneath me and nestled in. He stretched his legs out in front of him and opened The Great Gatsby.
“Chapter One.”
His reading voice was perfect…deep, but not too deep. That magic kind that lulls you in like a siren’s song. I was hypnotized.
“In my younger and more vulnerable years my father gave me some advice that I’ve been turning over in my mind ever since.”
I couldn’t believe it. Chance was reading to me from one of my favorite books. If I didn’t watch myself, I just might forget that Operation Romance was all for show and end up falling for this guy.
Chapter Eighteen
Chance
And I’m burnin’, I’m burnin’, I’m burnin’ for you ~ Blue Öyster Cult
My phone dinged right as I finished my Statistics homework. I glanced down, wondering who would be texting me so late. The guys didn’t usually text unless it was something about practice, games, or making plans to do something. And that didn’t usually happen close to midnight.
I was surprised to see Sarah’s name displayed on my phone. Pleasantly surprised. I closed my book, pushed back my desk chair, and moved over to my bed to get more comfortable. Chatting late at night with Sarah? No complaints here.
I know you’re probably already asleep, but I just wanted to say thanks for today. I had a nice time.
Her admission surprised me. She often seemed so guarded, with those walls up so high around her, not really willing to let me in. The fact that she’d reached out to tell me she’d enjoyed today, out of the blue like this, seemed so unlike her, and it made me smile.
For a second, I wondered if it was really her. Maybe Emma or one of her other friends had gotten ahold of her phone and was pretending to be Sarah, like they’d done in the first place when they’d bid on me for her. But common sense told me to stop being so freaking dramatic and to just accept the text at face value. After all, it wasn’t like she’d made some huge admission of love and asked me to run off into the sunset with her. She’d simply said she’d had a nice time. I was being stupid.
I was starting to act like a twelve-year-old with a crush.
The thought floored me.
Did I have a crush on Sarah? Even the word crush sounded ridiculous. But, did I like Sarah, like that?
My brain raced, and my chest tightened. I saw her in my mind—her smile, her head bowed as she looked down when she’d get embarrassed, a slight pink staining her high cheekbones. I saw the fire in her eyes when she was angry. I thought of the way her smooth skin felt under my hands that day under the tree as I’d rubbed her neck and shoulders. I felt her head tucked against my chest as I’d read to her today at the bookstore. I heard the sound of her relaxed breathing as she’d li
stened. I—Oh my god.
I liked Sarah. When the hell had that happened?
I realized I still hadn’t responded to her message. I fumbled with the phone and then quickly typed back, I did too. And there’s no need to thank me. :)
I had to be careful. If Sarah knew how I felt, it would mess everything up. The tentative friendship we’d been building, it would blow up, I knew it. And it would be all my fault. If anything real was going to happen between us, I had to be patient and take my cues from Sarah. That was the only way things could ever work between us.
So my only choice was to play it cool. Make sure she thought that we were still on course—just playing out Operation Romance, nothing more. It might hurt me, but I’d rather that than hurt her or mess up any possible chance for what I truly believed could be something special.
I waited to see if she was going to say anything else. I hoped she would, but she didn’t. I pushed down my disappointment. After a few minutes of staring at my phone screen, I accepted the fact that her polite thank-you was all I was going to get.
It was late, and I had two tests tomorrow and should try to get to sleep anyway. Tomorrow when Sarah came to my work, I’d be sure to act cool, follow our plan, and not let her see that anything had changed. I had to. If I cared about her, I had to do what was best for her.
…
“Why are you wolfing down your food?”
My father stared at me from across the table, his fork poised halfway to his lips.
I spoke through a mouthful of mashed potatoes. “I thought I told you guys, I switched shifts with Tom. I’m working for him tonight, he needed off.”
“But I thought your shift doesn’t start until seven. Don’t you have plenty of time?” my mom asked. She handed me a napkin when a blob of gravy fell to my lap.
“Thanks.” I scrubbed at the brown mess. Great. Now I’d have to change. “It does normally, but his is six to ten, so that’s what I’m covering for him.” I shrugged.
“Just be careful driving home, they’re calling for bad thunderstorms later tonight,” she warned. She frowned in worry.
I wiped my mouth and placed my napkin on my plate. “Don’t worry, I will.” I stood up. “Dinner was great, Mom.” I kissed the top of her head as I walked by to put my dish in the sink before heading up to my room to change my jeans.
As I rushed back down minutes later, keys in hand, they were still at the table. “I gotta go, see you guys later,” I called.
“Bye, drive safe!” my mom said.
“I will!” I shook my head. She’d probably still be telling me that when I was married and on my own. I noticed my dad said nothing.
I jogged out to my truck and hopped in. As I pulled out of the driveway, I glanced at the dashboard clock. Hopefully traffic wouldn’t be bad, because I was cutting it close.
Thankfully, I arrived just as Sarah was pulling in. I spied Josh and Elle already standing by a white Jetta in the parking lot, in a space marked for visitors. I remembered at the last minute to clip my mic to my shirt and turn it on before I got out to meet them. I waved.
They all waved back.
I walked over. “I got permission for you to come, but the only thing they ask is that you don’t take random shots of the residents while I’m working. If you do take any pictures that have a resident in them, we have to ask them if it’s okay to use it.”
Elle nodded. “No problem, I understand.”
“And absolutely no including any conversations with the residents in the print portion of the article.” I directed this to Josh.
“Of course. We’re just here to see you and what you do, and really, you and Sarah interacting in all different settings.”
Sarah looked at me. “So what exactly will we be doing?”
I smiled. “Come on in and I’ll show you.”
We walked a few steps ahead of Josh and Elle. I took Sarah’s arm. She looked surprised for a second, until I leaned in close and winked. “Operation Romance,” I mouthed. She laughed a little and nodded, then reached her hand out and placed it over my forearm.
I pushed through the double glass doors, and we entered into a bright, cheery lobby with a desk about twenty feet in from the doors. Seated behind the desk was a plump woman in a crisp white uniform.
“Chance, I see you brought your friends tonight.” Marge worked the welcome desk at Gracedale Retirement Home, where I worked as a part-time social coordinator. The title sounded fancier than my job really was. I helped keep the residents active doing a variety of things—from games to reading aloud to playing music or even just talking with them.
Gracedale was more of an independent living facility, and some of the residents even had what amounted to small studio or one-bedroom apartments. But it was still nice to bring them all together to socialize, to help them feel connected. In the short time I’d been there, I’d come to really enjoy both the work and the people.
“Marge, you’re looking lovely this evening.” I smiled at the older woman. I’d heard she recently celebrated her seventieth birthday. She was a sweetie, always smiling and with a kind word to pass along. Everyone adored her—staff and residents included.
“Oh, you charmer, you,” she tittered, waving her hand at me. “If your friends could please just sign the visitors’ log.” She pushed an open black binder forward a little on the counter.
“Sure.” I led Sarah over to the desk. “Sarah, this is Marge. Without her, this place would probably fall apart.”
Marge beamed.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Marge.” Sarah smiled, and I was struck again by how pretty she was. Tonight she wore a pair of deep burgundy leggings with a long black sweater over them, and a pair of tall black boots. She had her curls pulled back and held in place by a scarf that matched her pants. She looked amazing.
She stepped aside so Josh and Elle could sign in, and after I’d introduced them to Marge as well, we headed toward the Common Room.
“This is where the residents can come to socialize together,” I explained to Sarah. “We have games, cards, a record player, CD player, a TV, and a DVD player on the side for when we sometimes hold a movie night.” We entered the large room.
Tables were spaced throughout, most of them with four chairs around them. There were also a few sofas and more comfortable reading chairs on the opposite side of the room.
“This is great.” Sarah smiled. “I can see why you’d love working here so much. It’s perfect for you.” She looked up at me, her eyes bright and clear.
“Really?”
“Of course.” She touched my hand, just for a moment. “Show me around. I’d love to see what you do.”
So I did. We spent some time stopping at a few tables and chatting with several of the residents. Sarah charmed them all, which I knew she would.
We helped hand out snacks, sliced fruit and pretzels and cookies, and small glasses of juice or cups of tea or coffee. Sarah beamed the entire time. Just being there with her made the time fly.
The administration had agreed that she could come in with me to visit for one hour, and that hour was almost up. I didn’t want to say goodbye but knew we only had about ten minutes left.
We’d just begun to help clear some of the empty cups from tables vacated by a few residents who’d gone back to their rooms when the scratchy record player began to play. It was an old song, one I’d gotten to know well since I’d been here, as it was a favorite of many of the residents—“Cheek to Cheek.”
“Chance, I think you need to bring your young lady out to the floor for a dance.” Saul Migatto, a small old man partial to plaid who always loved to play the different records, called out from across the room in his thin voice. He stood by the record player and waved to us to come out to the space on the floor that many of the residents often used to enjoy the music.
Several of them were already standing and walking out to the floor. They danced slowly, looking like they were reminiscing about days gone by, remembering their
youth. I couldn’t help but smile watching them.
I looked down at Sarah. “Well, what do you think?”
She bit her lip. “I’m not much of a dancer.” She looked at the couples already on the floor and fiddled with the sleeve of her sweater.
“That’s okay, neither am I.”
She paused. I didn’t want to let this opportunity go to waste. Our time tonight was almost up, and Saul had just gifted me with a perfect chance to hold Sarah in my arms.
I reached for her hand and offered a goofy little bow. “Sarah, milady, may I have this dance?” I held my breath. Please say yes.
When her eyes crinkled into a smile, I knew she’d given in. She even offered me a tiny curtsy in return. “You may.”
I led her out to where the other couples danced. I followed the lead of those around us, choosing the more old-fashioned style of dance—it seemed to fit the mood of the song. I held one of her hands in mine, out away from our bodies, and wrapped my other hand around her to fit against the small of her back. We moved together, swaying to the music, but I needed to feel her closer. I gently tugged against her, just a little, pulling her tighter against me. She looked up, her green eyes framed by those long lashes, before tilting her head to rest it against the top of my chest. I dipped my head and breathed her in—she smelled like vanilla and something else I couldn’t identify, but I knew I would forever associate the scent with Sarah. I closed my eyes.
I didn’t want the song, the moment, to end.
Chapter Nineteen
Sarah
You speak and it’s like a song
And just like that all my walls come down ~ Jessica Simpson
Each time I was around Chance made it harder and harder to remind myself that we were acting a part, that we weren’t a real couple. When he’d held me close and we’d danced at his work, I’d wanted the song to go on forever. But of course it hadn’t. Real life didn’t work that way.
I’d broken down and texted him a few nights ago, hoping for some kind of sign that he was feeling the same way that I was. I wasn’t sure what I was expecting him to say…but he’d simply told me he had a nice time, too, and that no thanks was needed. I’d gotten the hint. Maybe I was too out of touch with dating to know how to act to attract a guy’s interest. Even though I knew Chance had told me that he wasn’t looking for a real relationship, I guess I was hoping that maybe he’d changed his mind the more we’d spent time together. I had. Even though I hadn’t been looking for it or expecting it, I’d found myself viewing Chance in a whole new way. And it hurt that he probably didn’t feel the same.
The Boyfriend Bid (The Girlfriend Request) Page 10
