by Harlow James
“Oh, my God.”
“Right? When’s the last time a man text you hours after getting your number and just to make sure that you’re okay?”
“Uh, probably never.”
“This is turning out to be so promising,” she squeals, clapping her hands together.
“Please don’t get overly invested, Brooke. Remember, this is supposed to be casual.” I think I say the words out loud more for myself than for her.
“Uh, huh. Sure. Now, put those peas back on your head so you aren’t sporting a horn for your date, and let’s binge watch something.”
I quickly fire back a text to Dylan, thanking him for checking up on me, and then lie back, fighting a grin again as I try to get my heart to stop tripping over the thoughts of this too-good-to-be-true man.
***
“There’s my cookie monster.” Dylan’s voice surprises me as I pass by the meat counter. I didn’t see him earlier when I arrived, so I thought maybe I’d missed him. I am in here later than normal, but the words were flowing and I lost track of time. However, nothing was going to stop me from getting my grocery shopping done and fulfilling my need to see him before Saturday.
“Here I am,” I declare as I park my cart next to the glass case and smile at him appreciatively. The scruff on his chin is slightly longer than normal, and I can’t say that I hate it. It makes him look older, momentarily blinding me to the fact that he’s younger than me.
“I thought for a minute there I wouldn’t see you tonight. It’s later than you usually come in.” Aw, he knows the time at which I normally do my grocery shopping. Some women might find that alarming, but I know how sweet Dylan is, so I find it charming. I kind of already sensed he knew my routine anyway after he gave me that cookie last week.
“I was busy working and lost track of time,” I answer.
“Well, the cookie I have for you today isn’t as warm now as it was, but it’s still delicious.” He flashes me his signature grin and then takes a few steps to his left, retrieving the treat and then handing it over the counter to me.
“Oh, what’s this?” I inhale the buttery mound of dough, eyeing the large sugar crystals dusted along the top. “Are these cranberries?”
He nods. “Yup. Glenda came up with the recipe yesterday. It’s a cranberry orange bisconie. She says it’s a cross between a biscuit and scone. All I know is whatever the hell it is, it’s amazing and dangerous. I ate about four yesterday,” he says through a chuckle, patting his rock hard abs for emphasis. It’s so unfair that men can eat like that and not gain a pound, but if I ate four of these, I’d probably gain five.
I take another whiff of it before sealing my mouth around the edge and biting down, my tastebuds singing as soon as the flavors hit my tongue.
“Oh, my God,” I moan around the crumbs in my mouth, silently giving myself permission to devour four of these. What’s another five pounds on these hips anyway?
Dylan laughs at me. “Told you.”
“These are dangerous. Jesus, don’t let me buy these or I will eat them for breakfast, lunch, dinner, and desert.”
“Nothing wrong with indulging from time to time.”
I point a finger at him. “That’s the thing. I indulge all the time. It’s a sickness.”
Dylan raises an eyebrow at me. “There is nothing wrong with taking what you want, Mac. In any aspect of your life.” His words are laced with a double meaning I’m not sure I’m ready to process.
Clearing my throat, I look away to hide the tinge of pink I’m sure is flooding my cheeks again. Damn, this guy makes me blush.
“Want some water?” I turn back and see him holding a clear plastic cup out to me.
“Thank you.”
“No problem. If you want, I can just steal one of these for you each week in the meantime if you don’t want to buy your own box.”
I smirk. “That would be perfect.”
He nods. “Sounds good. How’s your head by the way?”
I reach up and touch the spot on my forehead where the football collided with my skull. “Oh, good as new. The bump went away within a day.”
“Glad to hear. I wasn’t sure if you were wearing that beanie out of habit, or covering up the evidence of your injury.”
Laugher filters out of my lips. “I really love beanies, but they are good for covering up blemishes from time to time.”
“Not too many women can pull them off. But you definitely do.”
I turn away, trying to hide the blush on my cheeks that always seems to appear in his presence.
“So, I’m really looking forward to Saturday, Mac,” he says, pulling my attention back to him.
I know I said I didn’t want him calling me Mac, but I guess it’s better than Cookie Monster, although both make my heart thump a bit harder. I’ve never had a man give me a nickname before, and now Dylan has called me by two.
“Me too.”
“Make sure you dress warmly. It’s supposed to be a bit chilly. Although, I’d be happy to give you my coat if you need it.”
“Already turning on the gentlemanly charm, huh?”
He winks at me. “Always.”
“Well, I will be prepared for anything, including your plan A and B.”
“That’s my girl.” My girl. Oh, God… now I’m swooning. What the hell is wrong with me? I’m a grown ass woman melting at the smooth lines of this younger guy? Is this still a good idea?
“Dylan, stop flirting and get to work,” Kyle calls from behind him with a clean-shaven face I see. I wonder if Dylan said something to him after my comment I made at Perry’s Pub.
“I’m helping a customer, Kyle. Mind your business,” he replies over his shoulder before twisting back to me and rolling his eyes.
“Do you need to go? I don’t want you to get in trouble …”
Dylan glances around me, drawing attention to the fact that the store is pretty much a ghost town right now. “I think we’re okay. It’s not like there’s a line ten customers deep. Besides, Kyle’s just giving me shit. He knows I’m interested in you.”
That makes my eyebrows lift. “Is that so?”
“Yup. I wanted him to know I was staking my claim,” he says teasingly.
“Well, I’m not sure how I should take that,” I reply, giving him a hard time.
He narrows his eyes at me, leaning in closer so I get a whiff of his cologne, the same scent that pulled me out of my unconsciousness Saturday at the park. And when I looked up and found his mesmerizing blue eyes staring back at me, I thought I was dreaming, until I remembered I was headed to talk to him and got pegged in the head with a football.
“You should definitely take it as a compliment, McKenzie,” he says, deepening his voice for effect. “When I get my heart set on something, I go all in.”
My heart lodges itself in my throat. Damn, that’s a bold statement, which reminds me that this thing between us might be more light-hearted in my mind, but Dylan has not faltered in his interest in me. I’m trying to push myself outside of my comfort zone, but Dylan is knee-deep in his, ready to submerge himself. Suddenly, I feel in over my head.
“Relax, McKenzie. This is going to be fun,” he continues, as if he could sense my internal freak out. “Just focus on Saturday. Everything else will fall into place.” He pushes himself off of the counter and flashes me that bright, white smile of his that draws my eyes to his lips. “I’ll text you Saturday before I pick you up.”
I take a deep breath and swallow the lump in my throat, releasing my nerves through my exhale. “Okay. Have a good night, Dylan.”
“You too, McKenzie. Be safe.”
I grin at his parting words, and then push my cart away from him, reeling on how every conversation with him makes me feel—desired, seen, brave, daring. Dylan is helping to bring out my inner most desires and the way he unabashedly tells me how much he likes me is slowly helping me feel more confident.
Maybe Brooke is right. Maybe this is all meant to be.
A
s I turn down the frozen food section, I notice a man and woman bump into each other as they both reach inside for the same frozen pizza. Laughter fills the aisle and then there’s a pause—a locking of eyes between them that creates a blast of electricity in the air.
Holy shit! It happened! The spark, the moment of awareness between two people seeing each other for the first time—it just happened right in front of me, and I wasn’t even looking for it!
I turn to my side and pull a package of Double Fudge-Filled Milano cookies off the shelf, rip open the bag, and shove one in my mouth as I watch the couple flirt and giggle with one another. This moment definitely calls for cookies. The guy lets her take the last cheese pizza from the brand they were both reaching for, and internally I swoon again.
The girls cheeks turn rosy, his eyes light up as she smiles up at him, and it’s as if the stars align as the two of them talk and I watch like a crazy person. But I couldn’t look away even if I tried.
And if this fated occurrence helps solidify anything in my mind, it’s that maybe things happen in your life when you least expect them—things like noticing how insanely attractive the butcher is at your grocery store and agreeing to go on a date with him.
I grin like a fool as I realize that Saturday can’t come soon enough.
Chapter 9
Dylan
Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale.
“You’ve got this, Dylan,” I say to my reflection in the rearview mirror of my truck. I’m parked on the curb in front of McKenzie’s house, preparing myself to walk up to her door.
“Show her the man you are and want to be. She won’t be able to deny the chemistry between the two of you. She’ll see how much you adore her. You’ve got this.” I nod at myself and then reach for the handle on my door, stepping out onto the quiet street in this little town I call home.
I loved growing up here. It’s one of the reasons I never left. My parents raised my older sister, younger brother, and me in another neighborhood about fifteen minutes away from here, but I always admired this one. The housing development McKenzie’s house is in is only about ten years old, built back when I was still in high school. Street lamps line cement sidewalks and each house shares similarities with its neighbor, but still maintains its individuality.
Like McKenzie’s. The light pink shutters against white wood paneling seem like the perfect complement to her feminine demeanor. Potted plants flank her front door, and a fall themed wreath hangs right in front of the small window in the solid oak barrier.
I step up the door from her driveway and knock, strong and noticeable, but not alarmingly so. With my hands in my pockets, I teeter back and forth on the heels and balls of my feet as I wait for her to answer the door, glancing down to approve of my outfit once more.
I’m a simple guy so when it comes to dressing up for a date, I didn’t want it to seem like I’m trying too hard. But I definitely wanted to look good for McKenzie so I wouldn’t miss the appreciative gleam in her eye like I saw at the park when I was coaching in my workout gear or when she checks me out at work. So, I chose dark wash denim jeans, my black boots, and a dark green Henley under my black pea coat. I brought an extra coat for her in case she gets cold, two pairs of gloves, and two scarves in my truck just in case the weather turns. It’s relatively pleasant right now, but that can change in either a good or bad way in an instant in our town.
The sound of the knob turning makes my head pop up and I anxiously await seeing my girl on the other side of the door.
“Wow,” I whisper as she appears in front of me. A cream-colored sweater dress hugs her wide hips and curvy legs and her red hair is down, styled to perfection with no hat on her head. She usually has some beanie or headband of some sort around her crown, but right now it’s just miles of curls and curves in front of me and I’m speechless. Her hazel eyes lift and find me staring, igniting that tinge in her cheeks I’ve come to love. I dip my eyes down her body once more, appreciating her leggings under her dress and the tan boots she has paired with it and then I find her face once more.
“You look incredible, McKenzie,” I declare, clearing my throat while trying to discreetly adjust my growing erection in my pants without touching it. A little leg kick and twist to the side and I think that is as good as it’s going to get.
“Thank you, Dylan,” she says, smiling up at me. “You look very handsome as well. I’m glad to see you didn’t shave off all of the scruff.” Her fingers find my chin and scratch at the light dusting of hair I left when I trimmed it this morning. It was longer earlier this week when I last saw her, but I was just being lazy and didn’t want to clean it up.
“You like the scruff, huh?”
She nods. “Yeah. It makes you seem a little more manly,” she jokes as I grin in appreciation.
“Oh, don’t worry, McKenzie. I’m all man. I can assure you of that, sweetheart.” And I can’t wait to show you just how much of a man I am later on down the road.
She blushes once more and then reaches for her purse and coat. “I’m sure I won’t be disappointed.” She walks past me and out the front door. “Are you ready?”
“Yup.” I follow her outside and wait for her to lock her door before leading her down to my truck, gently placing my hand on the small of her back. I am going to take every opportunity to touch her today, starting right now.
“Thank you,” she says as I open her door and hold her hand as she hoists herself inside. My truck is slightly lifted from the ground, a detail I added a few years ago when I could afford it. It’s not over the top, but just enough to add some flare, and comes in handy when there’s a few feet of snow on the ground.
“Of course.” I close her door and make my way around to my seat, cranking the engine and driving down the street, headed for the Fall Festival.
Every year in Castle, the town holds a Fall Festival to celebrate the change in the season and help out local businesses. This town is full of small businesses and the festival gives them a great way to advertise to a lot of people at once. We also set up a pumpkin patch for the kids with bounce houses and games for them to play, a local brewery comes in and hosts an Oktoberfest area for adults to enjoy with a paid wristband, and food trucks and vendors come from all over to offer an insane selection of food to choose from.
You can spend the entire day at the festival and still not partake in everything. It’s quite the event and I’m glad to be attending with McKenzie on my arm this year.
“So, do you go to the festival each year?” I ask her as I cruise in that direction of town.
She shakes her head. “No. Last year was actually the first year I went, but I didn’t even walk around. I was helping out Brooke at her booth for her insurance company.”
“Ah. That’s where I know her from. She owns Stone Insurance.” Now I understand why she seemed so familiar.
“Yup. She’s my best friend and I had just moved here earlier last year, so I offered to help.”
“So where did you live before?”
“Atlanta. I was in insurance as well. I was an actuary.”
“Wow. What exactly does that entail?” I ask as I signal to turn and switch lanes.
“In complicated terms, I provided advice to clients on a contract basis, working as a consultant. I would design, review and help administer insurance, annuity and pension plans, determining financial soundness and calculating premiums based on risk.”
“Uh,” I say, scratching my chin. “And what does that mean in simple terms?”
McKenzie chuckles. “It means I did a lot of math every day.”
“That sounds horrible,” I mock.
She shrugs. “I was good at it. I like math. But it was unfulfilling. I didn’t feel like I was making a difference in the world.”
“So you quit?”
“Yeah.”
“And what do you do now?” I ask, realizing I don’t know the answer. I saw her on a computer at the park, but who knows what she could have been doing on there.
/> She sits up tall in her seat, pushing her chest out with pride. “I’m a romance author.”
My eyebrows shoot up. “No kidding…”
“Yeah. I started just writing as a hobby in the evenings and then I learned how to self-publish. I started gaining a social media following and before I knew it, one of my releases went viral. I had agents contacting me and people going crazy over my books. I felt appreciated for once in my life and I knew I wanted to do this instead of my other job.”
“That’s incredible. Congratulations. Isn’t that tough sometimes though? People can be awfully critical on the internet. I read some reviews for items on Amazon sometimes and cringe at how nasty people can be about the most trivial things. I can’t imagine how that must be with something you created.”
She bobs her head up and down. “Yes, it can be rough sometimes. Negative reviews hurt, especially because I know what goes into writing a book. But I also know that not every story is for every reader, so I try to let them roll off of me. I do this because it makes me happy and there are people who love my books. I write for them and myself.”
“That’s incredible, Mac. I’m proud of you.” If I didn’t like this woman anymore, she goes and offers me insight to the determination she possesses, the confidence she must have to put her creative thoughts out in the universe like that. “I have to admit though, I’ve never read a romance novel before.”
She giggles. “That doesn’t surprise me. But it’s okay. Most people just think they’re porn for women, when the stories are about so much more than sex. Falling in love is a complex event in life. Sometimes it’s fast and instantaneous. Other times it’s tortuous. There’s pain and misunderstanding, insecurities, and longing. It’s not always smooth sailing and I think love is the one emotion that everyone on the planet can relate to. We might all be different people on the outside, but everyone yearns for love in some way.”
Holy shit. This woman is making my heart twist in my chest. “I agree with everything you just said. I look at my parents and yearn for what they have.”
