Roots and Wings (City Limits #1)(27)

This date was sounding better and better all the time.

“What are you going to cook?” I asked.

“That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about. Any allergies I need to know about? Any dislikes?”

Had I ever had dinner with a guy? Then again, had I ever been out on an actual date?

This was a little disconcerting. I was almost twenty-seven, and up until that moment, I hadn’t realized I’d been missing anything. Aside from a few adolescent group dates, I’d never actually been out with a guy.

All of a sudden, I felt inadequate. I didn’t know how to act.

Was I supposed to tell him I hated pizza?

Would he try to make pizza?

Should I tell him I hated broccoli?

Was it too soon for that?

Shit. What was I thinking? Too soon for broccoli?

There were too many things I was trying to work through at the same time. Best-case scenario, he was strangely attracted to me and we’d mess around. I was undeniably attracted to him. He was gorgeous and fun, sincere and flirty.

What the hell did he see in me?

I was the daughter of a grease monkey who liked to fish. My hair was always a mess. I barely wore makeup, mostly because I wasn’t sure how to use half of the shit. I wore boots, not heels. Jeans, not skirts. I drove a beat-up old Dodge truck.

I wouldn’t even f*ck me.

Messing around wasn’t the best-case scenario; it would have been a miracle.

I bet he’s a damn good kisser.

“I don’t like pizza,” I blurted.

He’d been looking around, but when I spoke, his attention returned to me. “What? Who doesn’t like pizza?”

“Me. And I don’t like broccoli either.”

“So, no broccoli pizza? Got it.” Then he winked. A full-on, movie star wink. I think I heard a little bell ding off in the distance somewhere. You know, the sound a wink makes in a Disney movie.

He was the beauty; I was the beast.

“Well, I’m a guy and I can make about seven different things. So it’s burgers, spaghetti, tacos, stir-fry, sloppy joes … I can grill just about anything, or I can make breakfast.”

My heart was still thumping to the beat of the William Tell Overture after being startled, but the mention of breakfast made the beating twice as fast. And a little more south.

“Breakfast sounds good.” Where had that come from? My mouth was working much faster than my brain. A beaming smile broke across his face and his eyes lit up. I clarified, “I mean, I love eating breakfast for supper.”

He didn’t take the easy path, which led to teasing me for practically saying I’d love to be around for breakfast—or at least that’s what I’d secretly meant, but I didn’t actually want to say it.

Vaughn tried to hide his amusement, but the gleam in his eyes told me he was enjoying the whole situation.

“I do, too.”

“Okay, what time are you picking me up then?”

“What time will you be done with work?”

“Four-thirty or five, maybe a little after. Just depends.”

“And how long will it take you to be ready?”

“I don’t know—half hour or so?” I looked up into the rafters as if the correct answer was hiding up there. Whatever time I had, surely it wouldn’t ever be enough to make myself look like someone he would be with. Then my anxiety bloomed, but it was overpowered by anticipation and excitement.

“All right, I’ll be here at six.”

Crap. I should have said I needed more time, but who was I kidding? I couldn’t wait. And let’s face it, he knew what I looked like.

Unless, maybe he wanted the date to start early so it could end early? I hated feeling so insecure. It was completely new to me. I never had a reason to feel like this.

It was scary.

“Well, I interrupted you, so I’ll let you get back to it.” He glanced at my bench where I was working on a new spinner.

“You’ll have to show me how you do that sometime. I don’t know much about them, but that looks tricky.”

“They are tricky,” I said, following his eyes to the shaggy skirt I was attaching to the head of the one I was working on, thinking about how, at the moment, everything felt that way. Tricky.

I held it up for him to inspect.

“They’re pretty, but they can get ‘cha if you’re not watching it. Gotta take your time with them.”

His face sobered. “That sounds like good advice for lots of things. Take your time and be careful.”

He picked it up out of my hand, spun it around, and then placed it back on the workbench. I swallowed a lump of anxiousness, still a little insecure when he was that close. All of my flaws, or plainness in plain sight.

Our eyes locked, and something in his gaze reminded me that he’d just been through a breakup. And even though he said he was fine with the way things ended with him and Rachelle, it still had to hurt.

I might have been green when it came to relationships, but maybe that was better than experiencing such a terrible one. He didn’t seem sad, but my heart still thought of his in that moment.

I cleared my throat and tried to finish what we were talking about. Better yet, I tried to chase away my crazy thoughts, but it was difficult when his blue eyes looked like they were asking so many questions.