“So do you even have a date?”
“Shut up, Lucas.”
“Hey, don’t talk to your brother like that,” Dad speaks up.
“You always take his side,” Jordan backs me.
“And you always take hers,” Lucas counters.
“Someone has to,” Jordan says into his cup of water.
I realize I still have coffee in front of me as well as the water Mom had poured. I take that moment to down the rest of it. No, it does not go with the roast, but right now I don’t care. I’m pretty much done eating anyway and it’s going on 2:30pm. Maybe I can stop by home to change if I go now, and then I won’t have to change in the dressing room at The Castle.
I suddenly remember that I also have to text Parker and find out all these details, because it was kind of dumb not to when he was right in front of me. That hat tip got me, and all the questions I should’ve asked flew out of my head when he did that.
That’s it, snap decision, I’m going. I stand up and take my keys from my pocket in one smooth motion. Mom looks up at me, her eyes following as I stand.
“You’re leaving?”
“Yes. The roast was amazing, as usual. However, I could’ve done without the interrogation. I need to run home and change before I go to work.”
Mom stands up, comes around the table, and hugs me. She smells like my childhood, and for a second, I almost don’t go. She pulls away and smiles at me.
“We don’t mean anything by it, you know?”
“I know, Mom. Love you. Thanks again for everything.”
I head out without looking back at that point. I love my family. I love my mom’s cooking. Yet, this isn’t really my world anymore, and I have a date to plan for.
Sunday night comes around faster than it should. I texted Parker last night about the plans, and he’d apparently already been thinking about it. He has a reservation made and asks to pick me up at 7pm. That’s a little early for me for dinner, but it’s my day off and he’s making an effort, so I let it slide.
I find myself actually worrying about what I’m going to wear. I always know what I want to wear, and as I look at my closet, I’m at a loss. I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I’ve never had any issues picking out an outfit for a date.
My black Lycra leggings and a loose off the shoulder sparkly sweater with my favorite push up bra works for me. The girls are prominent but not too obvious. I add a delicate necklace with a small rose pendant and my black lace up stiletto boots. The combo of soft and sexy makes me feel good.
Now for the hair. I amp up my pixie style with a little bit of product and push some of the front pieces forward as short mock bangs. A jeweled rose quartz headband and some cute rose quartz studs complete the look. I’m a pretty flower… but like a sexy pretty flower.
The makeup stays toned down to keep the soft part of the look, but I do a super shiny lip gloss to play up my mouth. I want him to be watching these lips the entire time I’m talking. By now, it’s 7:05, and I didn’t realize I’d taken so long to get ready. I’ll admit, I probably took longer in the shower than I should have earlier. I know I’m wearing leggings, but I still wanted to be sure I shaved everything smooth.
I throw my wallet, the lip gloss, and my phone into a black studded clutch purse. The perfect amount of edge to the finished look. I head out the door and am met with Parker leaning on my front railing. He scrambles to stand up straight and smiles at me when he sees me. I chuckle, lock the door, and turn to him.
“Well? You gonna stand there, or are we gonna go eat dinner?” I ask and prop a hand on my hip.
He looks dumbstruck, and I have to strain not to smirk. Outfit effect achieved. It seems I’ve captivated the cowboy successfully.This starts the night off exactly how I’d hoped to. Parker collects himself and offers me his arm.
“Wouldn’t want you to fall on these stairs.”
I wave him off. “Oh, honey, you have no idea what I can do in these boots.”
His eyes go wide as I take his arm for us to head to his truck. He opens the passenger side door for me, and I step up and swing myself into the seat with ease. I can practically see the wheels turning in his mind as he watches me. He goes to the other side of the truck around the back, and I see him pop into the driver’s seat a moment later.
He starts the truck and turns to me. “You ready?”
I smile back at him. “Let’s roll.”
He takes me to an Italian restaurant in town. We have a booth in the corner where we sit right next to each other, enjoying appetizers with conversation. He orders the oysters while I order calamari. We share and laugh and tell each other all about our lives and families.
We share a piece of chocolate cake for dessert, and by then I’m four glasses of wine deep and feeling all kinds of fluttery in my chest. This isn’t normal for me. I don’t fall for guys like this. Is that what’s happening? Am I falling for him? I can’t be.