Page 23 of Just Add Mistletoe

He grinned and straightened. “Thanks so much, Lori. I mean it. I’ll see you tomorrow night, then?”

“Yeah.” She knew this wasn’t him really asking her out, but her pulse was celebrating anyway.

“Okay, great.” He tapped the counter, then hesitated. “Should we swap numbers? I mean, in case something comes up?”

It was all in innocence and, of course, smart. “Sure.” After they exchanged numbers, Lori watched him walk out of the store. She had to tear her gaze away before he reached the sidewalk though, the door swinging shut behind him—just in case he looked back. She didn’t want to be caught staring after him.

For the next twenty-four hours, it was all she could think about—going to the gala with Malcom. By Saturday afternoon,her stomach had tied itself into knots. She couldn’t even finish the lunch she’d ordered in.

Feeling better, Marci said she’d do the closing so Lori could head upstairs to get ready around five p.m. Lori had told her she was going with a friend to a gala, not mentioning it was a male friend. Marci would figure it out soon enough, but Lori didn’t want to risk any gossip happening because then her friend group would find out. And no, she hadn’t said anything to them yet. She’d tell them after. When she had answers to the millions of questions they’d ask.

Five p.m. seemed to take forever to arrive, but when it did, Lori realized she needed more time to get ready. She’d underestimated the state of her hair, and it really needed to be washed. That would add on time that Lori didn’t really have. Should she text Malcom that she’d be late? Or could she rush through everything else?

In the end, she didn’t text him advance warning, but at 5:55 p.m. she finally pulled out her phone.I’m going to need ten more minutes. When I see your truck, I’ll come down. This is Lori, btw.

His reply came a few seconds later.No problem. This is Malcom, btw.

Lori laughed, but it was more of a shaky laugh. And it wasn’t ten minutes more. It was more like twenty minutes.

She could see Malcom waiting in his truck in front of the shop. Patiently. He hadn’t even texted to ask if she was ready yet.

One last check in the mirror, and Lori decided everything was as good as it would get. She’d curled waves into her normally straight hair, and added more makeup than she usually wore. She’d hesitated over her earring choice, but finally settled on small silver pumpkins. Someone would have to look closely to determine what they actually were.

Finally, she couldn’t delay any longer, and she headed down the stairs, holding one side of her gown up, balancing on her black heeled shoes. That was the only thing she’d probably regret tonight—choosing the shoes that might look the best with the dress, but would certainly hurt her feet if she was on them too much.

“Wow,” Marci said as Lori entered the shop. “You look amazing. And you didn’t tell me your friend was the builder.”

Lori only smiled. “Thanks for closing up. Let me know if there are any issues. Otherwise, I’ll see you Monday.”

Marci’s brows skyrocketed. “Um, I won’t be able to wait that long for a report on your evening.”

“We’re going as friends, that’s all. This is more of a favor, you know. A plus one to some awards gala.”

Marci didn’t look convinced, but she waved a hand. “Better hurry. Prince Charming has been trapped in his truck for like twenty minutes.”

Lori’s heart skipped a beat, and she glanced at the clock. So it had been nineteen minutes . . . nineteen minutes past her ten-minute grace period. Well, there was nothing to be done now.

She headed out of the shop, and before she could reach the passenger side, Malcom had climbed out of the truck and walked around the front. Lori had known he’d look great in a tuxedo, but wow. She’d have to remember to keep her eyes on his face. He opened the door for her, his gaze trained on her.

“Nice earrings.”

Lori couldn’t help it—she laughed. “Thanks. And nice tux. You clean up well.”

The edge of his mouth lifted. “Thanks, and you look beautiful. Your dress is nice too.”

A sigh rippled through Lori, and she moved to climb into the seat. It was a bit too high for her fitted dress. Malcom grasped her hand and helped her inside.

“It’s going to be hard pretending this isn’t a real date,” he said, his voice low.

Before she could answer, he shut the door. What had he meant? That hewantedthis to be a real date? No, she told herself. She couldn’t let her mind go there.

LORI LOOKED STUNNING, IN MALCOM’S opinion, but that wasn’t what had his thoughts jumbled. This morning he’d reached out to Ian, who’d talked to Brandy, and she’d agreed to look at the financials for his company. “Give me a couple of days,” she’d said.

So did that mean she might have some results by tomorrow night? Or the next night? It was one thing to wonder and worry on his own, but if Brandy came back with things that he couldn’t brush off . . . then what? Confronting his brother on anything never turned out well. He’d learned that lesson in high school.

“The light’s green,” Lori said.

Malcom blinked. “Sorry.” He pressed on the gas and continued through the intersection.

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