Page 29 of My Casanova

Chapter Eleven

Dani

I stared at my hydrangeas and smiled. The soft pink and purple blooms seemed almost to glow in the fading light of the evening. There was a gentle breeze in the air—not too hot, yet not too cool—just perfect for sitting outside and relaxing. I had decided to eat dinner on the front porch. The sun had dipped low enough to cast long shadows across the front yard, and I hadn’t broken a sweat yet, which was a rare and welcome relief in the Texas heat.

It was a little past seven. The day had been busy at the store. Not as busy as yesterday, but still steady enough to keep me on my toes. Stan and I had managed to calculate the sales from the day before during a lull, and it had been crazy—one of the best days the store had ever had in the three years we’d been open. I couldn’t help but grin at the thought.

Stan had thrown out the idea of getting the girls to come in once or twice a month to help drum up business. It was a good idea, but I had been toying with another idea—one I’d been mulling over for a while but hadn’t been sure if it was a good one.

Paint and Sip.

I’d seen those events pop up online, and they always looked like a blast. We already had the wine, and we would just have to find someone who wouldn’t mind teaching a bunch of tipsy women how to paint. It would be the perfect way to bring in new customers and add something fresh to the shop.

I knew we could rearrange the space in the store to make it work. We could set up easels and drop cloths and have lots of snacks and wine. If it went well, it could become a regular thing. I just needed to talk to Stan about it and see what he thought.

I sipped my iced tea, and my phone buzzed on the small table beside me. I picked it up and saw Smoke’s name on the screen. A flutter of excitement immediately tickled my chest.

Smoke.

The one person who, for reasons I couldn’t entirely understand, always seemed to make me feel like a giddy schoolgirl. I was twenty-nine, not fifteen.

I stared at his name on the screen for a moment and wondered how in the world he had gotten my number. I pressed accept and brought the phone to my ear.

“Hello?” I said, feeling a little breathless, and my pulse quickened.

“Angel,” came his voice, low and warm. My heart skipped a beat.

“Casanova,” I teased and tried to act like I wasn’t completely swooning at the sound of his voice. “How did you get my phone number, and why is your phone number programmed into my phone?”

There was a chuckle on the other end, and I could practically hear the smile in his voice. “You passed out before eight last night, Dani. I had some time on my hands.”

I laughed and was a little surprised by his honesty. “So you broke into my phone?”

“I don’t think you could say ‘broke in,’” he said with another laugh. “Your password was all zeros. A two-year-old could’ve gotten into your phone.”

I rolled my eyes and tried to act cool. “I guess that’s okay, seeing as I don’t have anything important on my phone other than my mom’s banana split torte recipe.”

“Banana split torte, huh?” He sounded genuinely interested. “Never had that before. I bet it’s good.”

I had to fight back a grin at the thought of him getting so interested in a dessert. I tapped my foot nervously like a little girl trying to act calm when a crush was calling. “It is good.”

“Well, maybe you can make it for me sometime,” he said. His voice lowered a little.

“Maybe,” I replied coyly and felt a rush of heat spread across my face. Was I really flirting with Smoke? Apparently, yes, yes, I was.

There was a slight pause, and then he asked, “What are you doing tomorrow?”

I shifted my weight on the chair. “Uh, well, tomorrow’s my day off, as long as Stan recovered fully from yesterday. He seemed to be doing much better when we closed up tonight.”

“What do you normally do on your day off?” he asked.

“Not a whole lot,” I shrugged. The truth was, my days off were usually spent in the quiet of my house while I caught up on a few things and just binged-watched TV. It wasn’t like I was doing anything crazy and fun on my off time.

“Well,” he continued, “what would you say if I showed up around four? We go for a ride, get some dinner, and then come back to your place for some banana split torte?”

My heart literally skipped a beat at his words. A ride? Dinner? And then—he actually wanted to come over and try my mom’s banana split torte? I could feel my face flush with excitement, but I forced myself to keep it together. “I would say… I might be up for that,” I said, my voice soft and slightly breathless. “I’d have to run to the store to get everything, but I did plan to go to the store anyway.”

“Then let’s call it a date then, angel,” he said, his words confident and smooth. “I’ll be over at four.”

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