License to Date (8 page)

Before I could change my mind, I whipped up my phone, and typed:
Thank you for rappelling down the building with me.

After I hit send, I gritted my teeth. How lame was that text? I hadn’t even signed my name. He probably won’t know who sent the message and he’ll ignore it. Or delete it. Or—

Ping! Ping!

I ran my finger along my screen to find a return message from the ten-digit Southern California phone number:
Anytime, Kaitlin.
 

Fueled by the zing that zipped through me, I bit my bottom lip and joked back:
Anytime? How about now?

My entire body froze. Had I really just sent that? What if he thought I was serious? That kiss had seriously scrambled my brain and—

What’s the address?

Biting my lip, I tapped out:
My house is only one-story. And I don’t have rope.

There. Safe. Close call.

Ping! Ping!

Running my finger across my screen, I read:
How about I bring over that surplus tile we talked about? See if you like it? I would’ve shown it to you earlier, but you decided to have dinner with your friend.

Reassuring myself his visit was only for the good of my backyard, I typed out my address and hit send.

My phone pinged:
On my way.

I dropped the phone like it was on fire. Paul was on his way over. To my house. At night. My heart started pounding in my ears. Freaking out much? Me? Okay, maybe a LOT.

Since Mel had prodded me to call him, I quickly texted her:
You told me to text Paul and now he’s coming over. Help!

Sitting on my couch, my knees bounced as I waited for my sister’s sage advice.
 

After what felt like eons, my cell pinged. I brushed my finger across the screen and read:
 
Don’t panic. You’ll be fine. Just change out of those awful sweats.

My eyes shot to my outfit and the paint splattered on my tee-shirt and sweatpants. Yikes!
 

Thanks.
I typed back, then popped up to make a dash to my closet when I heard my cell ping again.

PS Don’t forget the lip-gloss. Judging from that photo, you’ll need it.

Quickly, I typed back:
He’s just bringing tile over to show me. It’s for the remodel.

Although I reassured myself this visit was only for the good of my house, I searched through my makeup drawer for my lip-gloss then slid it over my lips.
 

Just in case.

Chapter Six

The wall clock read nine o’clock when my doorbell rang for the second time. Even though it wasn’t a date, just a chance to acquire tile at a discounted price, I’d tried on and discarded multiple outfits until a mountain of clothes sat where my bed should be. I shut my bedroom door to cover the chaos, then hurried to the front door wearing a sleeveless top and black capris.

I pulled open my front door, then felt an unexpected jolt through my chest when Paul’s mesmerizing eyes stared back at me. “H-Hi.”

“Hi.” His mouth curved up and he handed me what looked like a very expensive bottle of wine. “For your nightly tradition of wine by your dock.”

I bit my bottom lip, touched that he’d remembered my favorite routine. “Except I’ve been on hiatus due to dating week.”

He winked at me. “Maybe it’s time you got back on track.”

“My life’s perfectly on track.” Not. Everything about Paul had thrown my world completely
off
track. But his coming over was purely platonic and he’d brought over a bottle of wine so how rude would it be not to offer him some? “Thank you for the wine. Should I get us some glasses?”

“Sounds good.” He followed me to the kitchen, dropped a small black bag on the counter, then surveyed the kitchen and the living room since it was an open floor plan. “I like your place.”

“Thanks.” I loved my open floor plan and vaulted ceilings, but my eyes zeroed in on all the work that needed to be done—new light fixtures, hardwood floors that needed refinishing, and especially the exposed walls that needed texturing and paint. “It’ll be even better after this weekend.”

He smirked. “Right. Free labor.”

“Exactly.” I opened one of the cupboards, pulled out two wine glasses, then fished in a drawer for the wine opener. “Must be hard living in a hotel. Are you looking for your own place?”

His face registered a strange look. “I’m comfortable for now.”
 

“But it can’t be homey living in a hotel, even one as nice as the Geoffries.” I twisted the screw into the brown cork. “And it must be expensive. I hope they’re giving you an employee discount.”

He opened his mouth as if to say something, but must’ve changed his mind because he closed it, waited several seconds, then shrugged. “It’s affordable.”

His tone suggested he was holding something back, but I didn’t want to pry. Plus, I was having trouble getting the cork to come out so that took all my concentration. I tugged and tugged to no avail.
 

“Let me.” Paul eased around the counter and came up behind me. But instead of taking the bottle, he reached around me and placed his hands over mine.

“I forgot you’re a professional,” I said, barely able to get the words out since I was trying not to hyperventilate from the warmth of his chin against the side of my cheek, and the delicious scent of his spicy aftershave that I wanted to bottle up and keep. “How long have you been bartending?”

“Not long.” He wiggled the cork out of the bottle with a gentle
pop
. “What line of work are you in?”

I made the mistake of glancing up behind me where Paul’s gorgeous blues were intent on mine and our mouths were mere centimeters apart. My stomach flipped and I had the strong urge to press my mouth to his. Instead, I stepped aside. “I’m the H.R. Manager at Woodward Systems Corp downtown.”

He nodded, then poured the burgundy wine. “H.R. seems like the perfect fit for you.”

“How so?” I said, curious as to what he thought of me.

Handing me a glass, he said, “You seem like a woman who follows the rules and likes things in order.” Then the side of his mouth curved upward and an adorable dimple formed. “At least most of the time.”

Definitely not right now since every part of me wanted to break all my rules, slip my arms around Paul, and pick up where we’d left off in that photo. That would so
not
be for the remodel. “May I see the tile now?”

“First show me the area by the dock where you want to use it. So I can make sure we have enough leftover tiles to cover the space.” His eyes glinted mischievously, then he lifted his wine glass up. “To your remodel and making your home exactly the way you want it.”

I clinked my glass to his. “Thank you.”
 

His eyes held mine as he brought his glass to his mouth.
 

I watched him as I sipped, remembering how his mouth had felt against mine. A shiver ran through me. No! I would
not
let myself fall under his spell. Focus, Kaitlin. F.O.C.U.S.

My mouth curved up into a polite smile. “Shall we go?”

He smiled back, then lifted the small black bag over his shoulder. “Lead the way.”

Wine in hand, I strode through my living room to the sliding door, then slipped my toes into my flip-flops. I turned on the backyard lights, then Paul fell in line beside me as we walked across my lawn then down the railroad-tie steps, lit on either side by tiny lampposts. We made our way to the base edge of my property by the river with my beloved—and badly weathered—small wooden table and two Adirondack chairs.

Bringing Paul to my happy place worried me. I’d always come alone before. What if I lost the magic by sharing it with him? But as soon as I saw the water, the peaceful feeling washed over me. I closed my eyes, savoring the serenity, then turned to find Paul studying me. “What do you think?”

“It’s definitely special.” He turned to check out the area under the dim light of two large lampposts. A splay of rocks reached out toward the calm, glassy river. Bushes and trees scattered along either side of the water. “I can see why you love it here.”

I smiled, then curled up in an Adirondack, and watched him. “Think there’s enough tile?”
 

“Should be plenty.” He made long strides across the perimeter as if taking measurements, then he sat next to me and pulled out a gorgeous, terra-cotta tile from his bag. “I assume you want to cover this entire rectangular area over the dead grass?”

“That’s the plan.” Turning toward him, I ran my fingers over the smooth, earthy surface. “It’s beautiful and looks expensive. I’m not sure I’ll be able to afford it.”

“Don’t worry.” He winked. “The hotel gives me a great discount.”

I set the tile on the small table between us. “Since this week is the last of my dating deal, I’m also on my own for figuring out how to lay tile.”

He twisted toward me. “I know a contractor who would make you a good deal. Let me look into it.”
 

“That’s really nice of you to help me out, Paul.” Yeah, too nice. There had to be something wrong with this guy. “What’s your worst flaw?”

The corner of his mouth twitched. “You trying to paint me as a bad guy?”

“Just trying to figure you out.” Nice. Charming. Handsome. And an amazing kisser. No guy could be this perfect. He was probably like every other man who seemed great at first, then as soon as you dug deeper you found out he’d been dating your sister on the side. “Take your last girlfriend, for example. What was her biggest complaint about you?”

His grin deepened. “Virna? We’re still friends. Do you want to call and ask her?”
 

“No, I don’t want to call Virna.” What kind of name was that, anyway? The only Virna I’d ever heard of was the one who had won an Oscar last year for her role in that blockbuster flick about the domestically abused woman. “You must have done something wrong with Virna. Why else would you two break-up?”

His face sobered. “She wanted a ring, but I couldn’t marry her. She’s a wonderful person, just not who I saw spending my life with.”

“Oh.” That sounded so . . . reasonable. I removed a speck of lint on my pants, then lifted my lashes.
 

He tilted his head. “Why did you and your ex break-up?”

My spine stiffened, but it was a fair question since I’d asked the same about him.
 

I took a deep breath. “Paul cheated on me. With my sister. But she didn’t know he and I were together. I found out about them at my bachelorette party.” To maintain my composure, I forced a small chuckle, then lifted my glass. “Not exactly the fairytale ending I’d imagined.”

“I’m sorry.” He watched me sip my drink, but didn’t laugh at my joke. “How long has it been?”
 

I swallowed, staring at the sliver of wine left in my glass. “Four and a half months.”
 

His gaze held mine and his voice softened. “I can see how that would make you adverse to dating again.”

My throat tightened and the understanding apparent in his deep, blue eyes caused the block around my heart to wiggle. Not good. “Yeah, well. Three more dates and I’m done.”

My voice sounded resolute, but my mind whispered that Paul could be different.
 

No way. He
had
to be hiding something. Hmm. . .
 
Mother-in-laws were notoriously scary. “Was your mom disappointed you didn’t marry Virna?”

He ran his fingers over a loose strand of hair that had fallen along my cheek, then tapped my nose playfully. “My mom understood and they still keep in touch.”

“Really?” His mom must be seriously sweet to keep in contact with his ex. Huh.

“You sound surprised.” He set his empty glass down then leaned across the table, his knuckles brushing my elbow. “Like you were hoping to find dark skeletons.”

Tingles prickled up my arm. “Hoping is a strong word.”

Yet, an accurate one.

He smiled, then his face grew serious. “When I commit myself to a woman for the rest of my life, it’s going to be for the right reasons. I’ll spend every day proving to her I know how lucky I am to have her.”

A zing zipped through me.

He tucked the loose strand behind my ear. “My parents were in love their entire marriage. I won’t settle for anything less.”

I could see passion in his eyes when he spoke. I could feel the solid heat, too. But he’d said “were.” “Your parents aren’t together anymore?”
 

Divorced like mine. And half the other marriages out there. Figured.

“My dad died three months ago.” Emotion filled his voice and he stood, holding out his hand. “I moved up here to be close to my mom. To take care of her.”

“I’m so sorry.” My throat tightened and I slipped my hand into his. My mind raced as we walked slowly toward the water. “Was there . . . an accident?”

“Heart failure as a result of his diabetes.” He stopped at the water’s edge, laced his fingers through mine, then turned to me. “It meant a lot to me to rappel down that building with you. In more ways than one.”