Page 20 of Caught Stealing

“Oh, there’s my car right over there.” She doesn’t realize she interrupted me, but pulls me along toward her car. Once we reach it, she fishes her keys from her little purse and unlocks it before turning around to tell me goodbye. “I had a really nice time, Andrew. I have to be honest and say I didn’t think I would because we met on a silly app, but maybe the algorithm knows what it’s doing.” She shrugs and tosses her bag into the passenger seat. “At any rate, I’m glad we found our rhythm again in person, so maybe the next date won’t be so tense at first.”

“Maybe.” What am I going to do? Out with it, Rossi. Just tell her the truth. “About tomorrow, I should probably tell you something first.”

“Oh, shoot.” She presses her hand to her forehead and groans. “I totally forgot I have choir practice tomorrow night. I’m so sorry. Would it be completely weird if we talked on the phone after that and maybe do dinner another night?” Her grimace is the least of my worries. “Is that weird? I don’t know. I haven’t dated in a while, and my last relationship was over three years long.” She makes a motion with her hand that implies she has no idea how dating is supposed to go between adults. That makes two of us.

I smile and decide that I’ll tell her then. That gives me time to talk to Koa, my closest friend on the team, and figure out how to tell her I’m the one thing she despises. At least, that is my assumption. I’m sure she dislikes other things, but those things probably won’t eliminate me from the running. Hopefully, I can also figure out a way to ask her to give me a chance, because I’m not the cheating kind. I’m a one woman guy, and up until this moment, I haven’t found a woman who made me want to go on a second date. My goal radar has locked in on this woman, and it’s going to be difficult to let her go.

“I would like that. You have my number,” I say and stuff my hands in my pockets again.

“Perfect. Goodnight, Andrew,” she says and leans over her door to kiss my cheek.

I take a deep breath and pray this doesn’t backfire on me because I’m pretty sure that tiny little kiss just sucked me in even deeper.

Chapter Eight

Charlotte

When I wake in the morning with a smile on my face, there is no denying I’m already in over my head. After just one date, I know I like Andrew enough to want to see him again. He was up for anything last night, and he was a perfect gentleman. Chills whisper up my spine when I think of how close he held me when we danced, and that goodnight cheek kiss? I vowed never to do any kind of kissing on a first date again, not after Rory. Granted, it was no big time kiss, but it was still more than I should have done. Still, if he’d made a move for an actual kiss, I would have been all in.

Ginger is tippy tapping in circles in the kitchen, ready to go for our Sunday morning run. I leash her up, pull on my sneakers, and head out. The only noise is the low rumble of a distant lawn mower, and I have the opportunity to observe my community in relative peace. My street is dotted with cottage-style homes complete with picket fences and daisies in the front gardens. I don’t want to accuse our homeowners association of being insane, but they kind of are. They even sent out an email with specific planting instructions, which variation to purchase, and a list of allowable colors.

I chuckle out loud when I pass Arthur Jasper’s house. He bucked the HOA at every turn and planted petunias instead. Technically, they couldn’t do a thing to him because our covenants don’t specify vegetation requirements, but everyone else plays along to keep the older population of the community happy. Arthur, on the other hand, would rather choke to death on dirt.

The pink petunias peek up at the early morning sunlight, bringing another smile to my face as we run past.

Ginger pants along and takes in all the sights and sounds, occasionally holding me back to have a deeper investigation of some insect or light post. By the time we make two rounds of the neighborhood, she’s ready to eat and I need to shower for church. We make the final turn toward our house and dodge Trevor McIntyre’s bicycle.

“Sorry, Miss Clarke,” he calls over his shoulder. He must be late for his Sunday morning paper delivery. The Parker’s Bridge Estate Gazette is a hugely popular community flyer that employs teenagers to deliver the weekly news. The happenings in our neighborhood are jumping and jiving, especially if you count the weekly Saturday night bridge games in the clubhouse.

Inside, Ginger shakes out and heads to her bowl for a big gulp of water. It’s a busy Sunday with church, lunch with Josie and her family, then choir practice. And after that? My lips spread into a wide smile knowing I’ll have a conversation with Andrew tonight. I cannot wait to get to know him better and plan our next date, which he seemed all too eager to confirm.

I slip into a flowing, flowery green dress and pull on my favorite strappy sandals. Topping my look is a straw hat with a sunflower. I feel a bit silly wearing it, but it makes the kids in the preschool Sunday school class laugh and call me Miss Sunshine. Grabbing a bagel on my way out, I try not to obsess over how long it will be until I talk to Andrew. There is no reason to go and get infatuated with a man I just met, but he makes it difficult to think about anything besides those gorgeous eyes, dark hair, scruffy face, and deliciously deep voice.

The traffic is a little heavier than usual, but fortunately, I’m ahead of schedule. While checking into the Sunday school class, I get bombarded by preschoolers excited for their lesson. Admittedly, teaching little kids is a lot more fun than teaching the older ones, mostly because they’re so joyous about everything.

“Miss Sunshine! I wove your frowrer!” Brandon grins, showing off his chunky little cheeks.

“Well, thank you, Brandon. I like my frowrer too! Do you know what kind it is?” I kneel so he can get a better look at it while I also try to hug the other six kids leaping on and off of me like I’m their personal human trampoline. His dark-skinned, chubby little hand wraps around the flower while he inspects it. The hat slips over my eyes, so I peek-a-boo one of the preschoolers. She giggles and runs away.

Taking over the class for Josie was supposed to be temporary, but with new members joining the church almost monthly, we had great need for more volunteers. Since I love teaching—usually—it was a no-brainer for me to stick with it.

“Um, a dandelion?” Brandon asks and bites his lip.

“Close! It’s a sunflower. You want to carry my hat to class for me?” Brandon’s eyes light up when I hand him my straw hat and we lead the train of kids to our assigned classroom. The time passes quickly—and stickily if you count the three tubes of glue sticks Rain smeared into the carpet. We have a lesson, sing a song, and end the class with a coloring sheet and their scripture memory verse. Once the kiddos are safely back in their parents’ care, I find myself thinking about Andrew again while heading to my usual seat for the service.

Josie and her family file in right behind me. She blows her blonde hair from her face and gives me the why do I do this again stare. I can’t help laughing.

“Another rough class?”

“Teenagers ask hard questions,” she says while trying to get her youngest to sit still. “Next semester, I get the kiddos and you can have the teens. You’re used to them already.”

I’m just about to protest and tell her that they never pay attention to me in class when the music begins and everyone takes their seats. The service proceeds as usual, and I only lose focus a time or two. Or three. Thank goodness it’s during songs and not the sermon, but every time my mind drifts, it’s back to my date with Andrew.

It was such a simple date. We had a picnic, walked, talked, danced. Yet there isn’t a thing about it that I would change. Can it be this easy? Could it be true that the app knows what it’s doing and really did set me up with the best match for me? I don’t mean to scowl but I do, and Josie catches it.

“You okay?” She leans closer during the closing song and whispers, “You keep daydreaming.”

“I’m fine. I’ll tell you about it at lunch.”

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