by Noelle Adams
He let out a breath that looked as if he were intentionally trying to talk himself out of his reaction. “Yeah. Sorry. I know.”
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing. Can I get some coffee?”
“Sure.” She grabbed a mug and poured him a cup of strong Columbian, which was what he always drank. She watched as he took the coffee over to the table she’d been sitting at. His shoulders were slumped slightly as he sat down, and it worried her.
Something was bothering him.
This wasn’t normal for Patrick.
She was about to go over to join him when a group entered the shop, obviously having just left work for the day. They all wanted something different and complicated, so it was almost ten minutes before she could look back over at Patrick.
He was on his laptop, like normal, and almost finished with his cup of coffee.
She filled a glass with ice water and carried it over to him. When he looked at her in confusion, she explained, “If you’ve been drinking coffee all day, you should drink this.”
His mouth curled up in the beginnings of a sneer.
“Oh stop whining and just do it,” she muttered, leaving him alone at the table.
As she walked away, she yelled at herself a little about how she was blowing this whole seduction plan.
What kind of guy was going to be seduced by a girl who bossed him around about drinking water instead of coffee?
The bell on the door jangled again before she could bemoan her lack of seductive talent too much. They always got a little flurry of activity when downtown offices got out after five. She worked covering the counter for the next half hour, and by the time she was able to return to the table, Patrick had been joined by Emma and Ginny, who’d finished up her inventory in the stockroom.
The first thing she noticed was that Patrick’s glass was empty, so she went to fill it up with more water before she sat down.
“How’d you get him to drink water?” Emma asked. “He’s had nothing but coffee all day.”
“I just gave him the glass. I didn’t think he was going to drink it.”
Patrick scowled. “I’m sitting right here, you know.”
“Yes, we know,” Emma said, rolling her eyes with real annoyance, a clear sign that Patrick had been getting on her nerves all day. “And if you don’t stop growling all the time, we’re all going to go sit somewhere else.”
“Was it a bad day at work?” Carol asked, still worried about Patrick’s mood.
Emma answered when Patrick didn’t. “Nothing unusual, although we’ve been pretty stressed. We have too many jobs and not enough staff. We’re going to hire in the next month, as soon as I can get the positions organized and the ads out there.”
“Well, that’s a good problem, I guess. That you have so much work.”
Emma nodded, her eyes moving to her brother, who was completely focused on his laptop. Then she met Carol’s eyes and gave her friend a little shrug, as if to indicate she had absolutely no idea what had gotten into him today.
Ginny had been zipping through emails on her tablet, but she lowered it now and said with a little twitch of a smile, “So, Carol, tell me about your date.”
This got Patrick’s attention. He looked up with a frown. “What date?”
Carol felt her cheeks warming and wished she didn’t blush so easily. If only she could act cool and casual about her social life the way Ginny always had. “There’s nothing to tell. It’s just a date.”
“With who?” Patrick asked.
“Just a guy. You don’t know him.”
“She’s been doing that dating site just like you have,” Emma explained. “And she found a guy she’s interested in.”
“What do you know about him?”
It would be nice if she could believe that Patrick’s frowning interest was prompted by jealousy, but it was more likely just a big-brotherly type suspicion of a guy she’d met online. “I know enough,” she said lightly, trying to sound like it was no big deal. “We’re just meeting for dinner on Sunday.”
“Why Sunday?”
She gave a half shrug. “That’s when he asked me.” She suspected he might have had another date on Saturday night, but she wasn’t about to mention that to Patrick.
“You’re driving yourself, right?”
She sighed. “Yes. I’m driving myself.”
“Okay.” He went back to his laptop.
Of course. She’d been right. He wasn’t jealous at all. He just didn’t want her to do something stupid, and he would have behaved the same way if it was Emma or Ginny meeting up with a stranger.
“What are you going to wear?” Ginny asked, her eyes sparkling with something that looked like mischief.
Carol knew how to read that expression. Ginny had some sort of plan. She was leading up to something. “I don’t know. I hadn’t thought about it.”
“Maybe you should buy something new.”
“I might.” Under ordinary circumstances, Carol wouldn’t have bought a new outfit just for a date. She’d never even met the guy. There was no reason to assume she would like him. She wouldn’t even have accepted the invitation except Ginny and Emma both said she should. She wasn’t going to waste money on new clothes for him yet.
It wasn’t like he was Patrick.
“When you go shopping,” Ginny said, “make sure to take someone with you so you can get a second perspective on the clothes you try on.”
Carol stared at Ginny for a moment, suddenly realizing where the conversation was leading.
Ginny must be crazy.
There was absolutely no way in the world that Patrick was ever going to go shopping with her.
Ginny gave her a little nod with an expression that clearly said Carol was supposed to respond.
“Okay,” Carol said dutifully. “I will.”
“What you really need is a guy’s perspective,” Emma chimed in, evidently catching on at the same time Carol had.
“I don’t have a guy to offer me any perspective,” Carol said, rolling her eyes at her friends.
Patrick wasn’t looking at them. He was barely listening.
There was no way he was going to volunteer to be the male perspective she needed.
“Patrick could do it,” Ginny said. “He’s a guy.”
Patrick blinked and looked up. “What now?”
“You can be the guy’s perspective for Carol,” Emma explained. “When she goes shopping for an outfit for her date.”
“What are you talking about?” He sounded confused and not at all happy.
“Carol needs a new outfit for her date, and she needs a guy’s perspective on what to wear. Maybe you could go with her and help her out.”
“You’ve got to be kidding,” he muttered.
“Come on, Patrick. Why have you been so out of sorts this week? Can’t you help Carol out a little?” Emma was giving her brother a little glare.
Carol was starting to get uncomfortable. She wasn’t even sure she wanted Patrick to go shopping with her, and she definitely didn’t want him to be bullied into it. “It’s fine,” she said quickly. “I’ll just wear something I already have. Surely there’s something that I look decent in.”
“See, now you’ve made Carol feel bad. She thinks you don’t want to help her out.”
“Emma, it doesn’t—” Carol began.
“I’ll go.” Patrick interrupted. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you all, but I’ll go if she needs me to.”
Carol stared at him in surprise.
“What?” he demanded, frowning at her. “If you need someone to help, then I’ll do it. I’m not always an asshole, am I?”
Emma snickered at this, but Carol felt a wave of affection and a little bit of guilt.
He thought she seriously needed his help, and so he was doing it even though he didn’t want to.
He didn’t know it was just a plan to get them alone together.
She was about t
o let him off the hook since she didn’t like to trick him, but Ginny gave her a quick, significant look and broke in. “Good. That’s a plan then. Maybe you could go on Saturday afternoon.”
Patrick shrugged. “Sure. Why not?”
Carol sighed. “I’ll make you a pie as a thank-you.”
He perked up visibly. “Really?”
She laughed. “Yes, really.”
She was starting to feel better. They would have Saturday afternoon together, and he didn’t even look resentful about it.
Maybe a little scheming on the part of her friends wasn’t the end of the world.
***
On Saturday afternoon, Patrick was starting to wonder if this shopping expedition was some cruel torture routine devised by a malevolent deity specifically for him—for countless sins long forgotten.
He and Carol had agreed that the shopping would consist of no more than two stores and go on for no more than two hours. But he was an hour and a half in now, sitting outside a department store dressing area and waiting for Carol to come out in yet another sexy outfit, intended to entice a man other than him.
And he had to keep sitting there and pretending it didn’t bother him.
Torture.
Complete and utter torture.
She was stressed about what kind of outfit to pick out—whether she should dress up or wear something casual—and so the parade of clothes she’d tried on ranged from low-cut dresses to form-fitting pants that could only be classified as tights. Every time the dressing room door opened, he had to steel himself for another tidal wave of lust, possessiveness, and frustration.
Made worse because she evidently saw him as a big-brother type who would never look at her with any sort of attraction.
He never had. Not really. Not until the rest of their circle of friends had all started to pair up, opening up possibilities he’d never let himself consider before.
If Noah could choose Emma and Ryan could choose Ginny, then why couldn’t he choose Carol?
It was a difficult question not to ask himself.
When he saw the doorknob start to turn, he took a deep breath and straightened up on the bench he’d been sitting on for the past forty minutes.
“Okay,” Carol said, sounding just as cheerful and energetic as she had when they’d started their shopping trip countless eons ago. “Here’s this one.”
She stepped out so he could see her in a pair of black jeans—stretchy and far tighter than she normally wore—and a soft, thin blue sweater whose neckline kept slipping off one shoulder.
“Imagine I’m wearing heels,” she said, turning around in front of the three-paned mirror.
“Looks fine,” he managed to rasp. The jeans clung to her body. Molded like glue. His eyes were raking over the deep curve of her bottom, lingering on her breasts and her hips.
If she showed up on a date wearing that outfit, the guy would have her out of it in about five minutes.
At least Patrick would. He was having trouble not getting up right now and hauling her back into the dressing room with him so he could start peeling off her clothes.
Carol appeared completely unaware of his reaction. She was frowning into the mirror, looking over her shoulder in an attempt to see her back. She lifted the hem of the sweater, revealing her very round ass in those jeans. “My butt looks too big, doesn’t it?”
Patrick gulped and clenched his hands hard. Her butt was emphasized by the tightness, but too big wasn’t even close to what he was thinking. Her shape was exactly right, exactly what he liked best. And he wanted nothing more than to slide his palms down her hips so he could cup those luscious curves in his hands.
When he raised his eyes and realized she was waiting for an answer, he swallowed again and forced out, “Fine.”
“Maybe I should go with a skirt,” she said, still not letting her sweater fall back down to hide the temptation of her ass. “Something that would deemphasize my butt.”
He was barely listening. His eyes were misbehaving again. “Yeah,” he said, because she’d paused and he realized he was supposed to respond.
Her spine stiffened, and she turned around to face him. He would have been grateful for the move, but the mirror was perfectly angled to give him a clear sight of her backside, so the temptation was still before his eyes.
“You think I need to deemphasize my butt?” she asked, her silvery eyes wide and worried.
“What? No. Yes. I don’t know. I don’t care!” Her brows were lowering in confusion at his garbled reply. She was going to soon see what was wrong with him. She would realize for the first time how attracted to her he was. And things would never be the same again. In absolute frustration, he burst out, “I don’t give a damn what you wear! Just pick something!”
Her mouth dropped open at his outburst. She didn’t look hurt or upset—just surprised.
Laughter came from the hallway as a middle-aged woman appeared in the dressing room carrying an armful of clothes to try on. “My husband does the same thing,” the woman said, smiling at Carol in understanding. “He always explodes eventually if I take too long. Boyfriends and husbands aren’t really very good shopping partners.”
Carol smiled, but Patrick was suddenly terrified by the jolt of excitement in his heart. To counteract it, he said gruffly, “I’m not her boyfriend.”
The woman blinked, but then she smiled again at Carol. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”
When the woman had closed the door on her dressing room stall, Carol turned her back on Patrick and went back into her own stall.
Patrick knew something was wrong. She didn’t say anything as she changed back into her regular outfit and opened the door. She returned most of the previous outfits to the rack but held on to the black jeans and blue sweater she’d tried on last.
She was keeping that outfit. The one that made her ass irresistible.
Some other guy wasn’t going to have Patrick’s restraint. Some other guy would be touching Carol’s ass tomorrow night.
Just perfect.
Patrick stood up, grabbing his saddlebag as Carol left the dressing room and found a checkout counter. There were three people in line in front of them, so they weren’t going to get out of here quickly.
Carol still wasn’t talking to him.
Or looking at him.
He exhaled loudly in almost a groan. “I’m sorry, Carol.”
Her eyes moved to his face. “For what?”
“For yelling before. I’m not really good at patience.”
She turned her head to stare at the woman at the counter, who was evidently buying a complete new wardrobe. “I know that.”
Her expression was so composed that Patrick knew she was controlling it on purpose. Carol was never stoic like that. “I said I’m sorry.”
“I know you said you’re sorry. I’m used to you yelling. It’s no big deal.”
She seemed to mean it, but she was still upset. “So what’s the matter then?”
“Nothing.”
“Carol,” he growled.
“Don’t Carol me.”
“I will Carol you if you’re not going to tell me what I did wrong.”
“You didn’t do anything wrong,” she said with a little sniff. “But you know you don’t have to fall all over yourself declaring to the world you’re not my boyfriend. It’s not like I’m a complete loser.”
“What?” he demanded. “Why would you say you’re a loser?”
“I’m not saying I’m a loser. I’m telling you that I’m not, and so it’s not the end of the world if some stranger thinks I’m your girlfriend. Just because you never notice me doesn’t mean no one ever will. I wouldn’t be the worst girlfriend in the world, you know.”
“I know that. What are you talking about?” He was so baffled by her comments that he wasn’t thinking through his words. He was raising his voice again, but he couldn’t help it. Carol evidently thought he’d insulted her by reminding himself he wasn’t her boyfriend, and that
couldn’t be further from the truth. “I notice you all the time!”
“You do not.”
“Yes, I do. For God’s sake, Carol.”
She’d turned to face him now and was meeting his gaze. Her own expression was almost challenging, and her voice was softer as she asked, “What do you notice about me?”
He made an impatient noise in his throat. “I notice everything. I notice how you actually listen to other people instead of just pretending to while planning out the next thing to say. I notice how you’re genuinely happy for Emma and Ginny, even though you occasionally feel a little lonely because they seem to be moving on without you. I notice how much courage it took for you to give up your old job and open Tea for Two—since you were afraid it wasn’t going to take off. I notice how you tear up every time you see those greeting card commercials. I notice how you always rub the side of your face when you’re tired, which is why you always end up getting flour right here.” He raised his hand before he knew what he was doing and stroked the tips of his fingers over her left cheekbone.
Carol’s eyes were wide. She swallowed. Something seemed to be shuddering inside her.
“I notice you, Carol,” he said hoarsely. “How can you think I don’t?”
She took a shaky breath, and he was practically leaning forward, waiting to hear what she would say.
Then, “Excuse me. Can I help you?” The woman behind the counter, wanting them to move up with their purchases so she could keep the line moving.
Carol blinked a few times and turned around to put her items on the counter. She didn’t say anything.
Patrick couldn’t help but wonder what she was thinking.
He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d said too much.
He couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made a big mistake and now she knew how he was feeling about her.
It would be nice to think that the two of them could drift together because they were the only two remaining unattached in their circle of friends.
But Patrick didn’t want her to want him just because he was the only one left.
And Carol deserved better than that.
***
All through the drive from the store to her apartment, Carol’s head was buzzing with excitement.
She tried to talk herself down a little. She tried to be reasonable. After all, nothing had really happened, nothing that meant incontrovertibly that Patrick was into her.
