Laughing, I say, “I’ll see what I can do.”
She clears her throat, going more serious. “Are you going to ask her out on a date?”
I give her the only answer I can.
I tell Ethan to get ready for bed, and I go next door, knocking on January’s door.
When she answers, her chestnut hair piled in a messy bun, her pink T-shirt stained with plaster, I raise my hands in surrender. “I’m willing to eat radishes if you tell me all about your board game club.”
A smile races across her lips, as Wednesday cackles from the couch, pokes her head up, and says, “You should hear how crazy competitive they got Sunday night when they played Monopoly again. They’re so loud I can’t even sleep when she has board game club. But Monopoly is nothing compared to how rowdy they are with Candy Land.”
January swings open the door, invites me in, and tells me more about the board game nights. I eat up every detail.
But I can’t linger, since Ethan has school tomorrow, and a bedtime.
I hook my thumb in the direction of my house. “I should go, but thanks for entertaining me with your tawdry tales,” I say, girding myself to say more, to ask for what I want.
“Thanks for demanding them.” She looks at the clock on her kitchen wall. “Tomorrow is furniture assembly night. Are you ready?”
I rub my palms together. “Ready to sit on my arse and watch you do all the work.”
She nudges me with her elbow. “I will put you to work as my assistant.”
That sounds like more fun than it should be. It sounds, too, like exactly what I want.
“Fine. If you insist,” I say as we walk to the door then onto her porch. The night air has cooled, but a summer breeze drifts by in the dark, as the starlit sky and the porch light illuminate her face.
“I do insist.”
“And I am looking forward to it. I arranged for Goodwill to pick up my bachelor pad furniture tomorrow morning.”
“Perfect.”
My feet feel like they’re stuck here, and I don’t want to leave. I won’t leave until I say what I came to say.
This is the chance.
It’s time to take it.
For all that it’s unexpected.
That it might derail my plans.
It’s time, because she’s the one I want to invite to a wine bar, a breakfast café, a tea shop.
I go for it. “Do you want to have dinner afterward?”
Her eyes go wide and vulnerable. There’s a twitch in her lips too, as if they’re curving up of their own accord. “Do you mean out or at your house?”
There’s a question in her question.
I take another chance, answering from the heart, full of my feelings for her, and full of my desire too. “Why don’t we have dinner at my house?”
After all, Ethan is spending a few hours at Kerri’s.
January licks her lips, nods, and says yes. I have no idea what I’ve just gotten myself into, but I can’t wait.
17
January
Wednesday—the day, not my kid—is a light one for me.
I only have one job scheduled, fixing some hinges in a winery this morning, so I’m planning on spending the rest of the day on billing.
But who am I kidding?
I’ll probably spend my time daydreaming of tonight with Liam while I try to wade through invoices.
In the morning, I brew a pot of coffee, pour a cup, then send my kid on her way to school.
“Learn lots of things. Make good choices. Don’t hack any of your teachers’ accounts,” I say, walking her to the door.
She raises a brow. “Not even my algebra teacher’s? Because word on the street is he made a cool mil on some tech funds, so I bet he’d be worth a hack.”
“Hmm.” I allow the corner of my lips to turn up. “That one is fine. Go for it.”
She pumps a fist dramatically. “Yes!”
“But cover your tracks, ’kay?”
With an eye roll, she says, “Duh. Obviously.”
I give her a smooch on the forehead. “So proud of you.”
“I’ll see you . . . what time did you want me home?”
A flush crawls up my chest, knowing why I asked her to go to Audrey’s for dinner. “Eight would be fantastic,” I say, my voice a little dry.
“How about eight-thirty?” Her tone is hopeful, like she’s the one asking for something I don’t want to give.
I suppress a wicked grin. “Sure. If you must.”
“Thanks, Spawner.”
“See ya, Spawn.”
I wave as she heads down the steps and walks to school about a mile away. Along the route, she’ll meet up with Audrey, and they’ll amble together, planning their next quirky food test for YouTube.
I make my own way down the steps, then stop at my vegetable gardens out front, checking on the greens, taking a drink of my coffee, and enjoying the late August sun warming my shoulders and warming my soul.
