Page 7 of Merry With A Milkman

She catches her lower lip between her teeth and meets my gaze. When I smile, the tight set of her shoulders soften and a tentative grin returns to her full lips.

“Tegan, I can’t promise to be as open as you are.”

“I know?—”

Squeezing her fingers stops her words. “But trust that I’ll do the best I can. Yes, I’m attracted to you, too. However I got a head start when I saw you while making a delivery here yesterday.”

“Well now, that doesn’t seem fair.” Her chuckle is low and naturally sensuous. There really isn’t any artifice in this woman. “How about that drink now? Spend some time getting to know each other? I want to confirm my instant feelings are real.”

With my nod we start walking but don’t make it far before she stops again. Using her free hand, she points toward the building next to her store. A large ‘For Rent’ sign fills a quarter of one of the two picture windows flanking the centered door.

“I was wondering how long this building would remain vacant. Wait, come on. Let’s peek in the window.” She pulls me up the walk then cups her hands around her eyes to peer through the glass. “The store that was here went out of business about a month after we opened. We were so busy, I never got over here. Oh, look.”

She glances at me and indicates I need to lean closer to the glass. “There’s a refrigerated display case. Another long counter. Would something like this work for your cheese shop?”

Curious, I look into the dark storefront. The space is open and looks huge. There’s no way I could use all that space. At least not at first. “I like what I can see of the counter. But…”

“But?”

“It’s too big. I don’t need all that.”

She faces me with her hands fisted at her full hips. Aching to replace her hands with mine, my fingers flex and I force myself to focus on her face. “You’d be surprised. I have some ideas and possibilities in mind.”

Her thought processes must move at the speed of light while mine have stalled out on the possibility of setting up my business right next door to hers. Seeing her every day. Somehow finding a way in our busy lives to spend time together.

She takes out her phone and snaps a photo of the sign. “I’ll get your number and send this info to you once we’re at the bar.”

Grinning, I offer her my hand. “You put my contact information in yesterday at the meeting. At least in that group chat you set up.”

“That’s right. Eh, it’ll be easier if you just put your number in again so I don’t accidentally text everyone. Okay?”

“Okay.”

At the Book & Barrel we find a quiet table to one side and settle in with a flight of wines to try. She explains what chocolates she would pair with each, while I suggest different cheeses. In between we talk about our lives, our pasts and our dreams. With an unspoken agreement, we don’t discuss my business and I’m thankful for the break. I haven’t had such an enjoyable evening in a long time.

Surprised when our server announces last call, I glance at my watch. We’ve been here nearly five hours. Yet time spent with Tegan seems only moments long. Or like I’ve known her a lifetime. Each minute solidifies her presence in my heart. In my life. She’s the woman I want, I need.

She stands and sways to one side before grasping the table edge. Her eyes go wide. “I should have told you I’m a real lightweight when it comes to drinking. Doesn’t help I haven’t eaten since lunch. And that’s…” She leans toward my arm to peer through the dim light at my watch. “Shit, almost twelve hours ago.”

“You should have said something. We could have grabbed dinner somewhere.”

Waving her hand nearly unbalances her. “I was enjoying myself. Didn’t think about it. What I need now is sleep. I’m on pre-opening duties tomorrow.”

“You okay to walk?”

“Oh sure. I’m more tipsy than drunk.”

Rising to join her, I keep my opinion of that statement to myself. I’ll get her home safely and be more aware next time. To her credit, she does remain steady as we walk back to the chocolate shop although I thoroughly enjoy the times she leans against me. Wrapping my arm around her waist keeps her pressed against my side. For support—nothing more.

At the door, she faces me with a serious expression. “I have something important to tell you.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“No.” She shakes her head then closes her eyes and clasps my forearm. “Shouldn’t do that. No, I need to tell you this tonight. But not out here. Come up. Just for a couple minutes. I know you have to be up early tomorrow…uh today, too.”

“Not many deliveries scheduled, so I’m good. And yes, I’ll come up for five minutes.”

Her smile brightens the night. “Good.”

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