Page 32 of Laugh

Wrinkling my nose, I definitely don’t blame him for not wanting to spend time with the Bimbo squad. “Well, if Beau decides taking me out on adatedate tonight was a bad idea, I may need to drown my disappointment in the bottom of some shot glasses. Keep your phone on.”

“Harry, it’s going to be great. Maybe the Captain will take you to places you’ve never explored before.”

Snorting, I try to hold back my grin. “Sounds naughty.”

“Super naughty. I still can’t believe you screamed out that you were a virgin.” My cheeks turn red at the memory. I can’t believe he didn’t run screaming from the room in terror. Whodoesthat? Me, that’s who. It’s me. I’m that awkward virgin in the room full of adults.

“His knee was touching me,” I whisper as a way to explain my word vomit. “It was so warm…”

“Jesus, you’re adorable. Okay, I need to run. I’m going to take a nap or something before I go out tonight.”

Snickering, I let him off the hook for keeping me entertained while I dissolve into a nervous mess. “Sleep well, my friend. I love you more than Tom Hanks loves Wilson.”

“I love you more than brides love weddings.”

My mouth drops open. “Brilliant. Damn you. Okay, I’ll fill you in tomorrow if I don’t see you tonight. If Idosee you tonight, you’re buying.”

“Got it. Later, Harry.”

“Enjoy your nap!” I call out, then spend the next couple of hours prepping for my date with Beau.

I take an ungodly amount of time in the shower washing, then washing again. After that, I shave every inch of skin I can find with even one stray hair. By the time I’m done, I feel a tad more confident. My hair is something I’ll never be able to tame, so I let it air dry while I put on a bit of makeup. Addie taught me how to line my eyes and do my makeup to look like I’m not actually wearing any.

Some days, I wish she could show me how to be a tall, hot blonde with big boobs, but alas, my freckled skin says, ‘no way in hell’.

I’m ready a full thirty minutes before Beau is supposed to show up, so when he knocks on my door ten minutes early, I jump up from where I’m sitting on the couch.

With a racing heart, I smooth my clammy hands down the front of my dress and do some of those half walk, half run steps to the door. I’m not cut out for this.Datedates shouldn’t be a thing people allow me to participate in because I feel like I’m about to melt into a puddle right here before I ever get this door open.

Marcus’s reminder to take a deep breath before I speak goes up in flames completely when I open the door to Beau Hudson standing in the hallway. “Beam me up, Scotty,” flies out of my mouth as I take in his button up forest green dress shirt stretched across his delicious looking muscles. He’s paired his shirt with black slacks that do nothing to hide the size of his thighs.The man is a God. I want to worship him. Maybe even take a bite to see if he tastes as good as he smells.

His deep voice vibrates through me when he teases, “Who’s Scotty?”

“Scotty who?” I ask, confused by his question. Then I spy the bouquet he’s holding at his side. “Sweet Lord in heaven,did you bring me flowers?” I exclaim, pointing at the beautiful array of colors that stand out even more due to his darker clothes.

Beau’s smile is genuine when he hands them to me. “I did. And you said, ‘Beam me up, Scotty’. So, who’s Scotty?”

I pause just as my fingers wrap around the base of the bouquet. “Let’s ignore I said that. But seriously? Scotty from Star Trek. How do you not know that phrase? It’s classic. Like, ‘live long and prosper’,” I tell him, holding up the Vulcan sign.

His lips twist to the side as he considers me. “I hate admitting that I didn’t watch any of that growing up. My father and I were always busy with football practices, camps, and clinics.”

My hand with the flowers flies to my chest. I’m truly heartbroken for him. “I’m going to educate you. Although, if you didn’t start with the original series, you may not love it as much. I’m thinkingThe Next Generation, which now I’ll refer to as ‘TNG’, is the way to go. True Trek lovers will hate me for that, but I stand by it.”

Walking into my kitchen, Beau follows me as I look around for a vase or something I can place the flowers in. When I find nothing, I grab my blender from my lower cabinet to fill it with water. It only takes a moment to arrange them just the way I want, then I look at mydatedate. He’s scowling viciously at me.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, a bit of worry lacing my voice. He looks upset as I look between the flower arrangement and back at his face.

Jabbing his finger at the flowers and much louder than I’m sure he wanted to, he exclaims, “You stuck your flowers in a blender!”

Glancing down at them for a second, I nod slowly at him. “It’s big.”

“Haddie! You can’t put them in a blender.”

Damn. Why is he upset by this?

“Well, where the hellshouldI put them? I don’t have a vase!” I’m panicking as I peer around again, worried about offending him. Although, I don’t know what the big deal is. As I pull cabinet doors open, I mutter, “It’s not like it’s plugged in or anything.”

Beau plucks my hand away from my crockpot as I start to yank it out to check behind it for a damn vase. “It’s fine. You’re right, and they’ll be fine. I have to ask though; how do you not have a vase? I thought those were sort of standard in all kitchens.”

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