Page 19 of Cupid's Shot

“So, what are you up to this weekend?” I change the subject, not ready to admit how easy the connection is with Sarah and how comfortable I feel with her already.

“I’m teaching a kids’ watercolor class on Saturday in the late afternoon and a needlepoint class on Sunday morning. Otherwise, I’ll be fiddling around in the studio hoping some people come in to buy some kits or want to craft. What about you?”

“I’m working on figuring out how I’m going to see you again.”

“Swoon,” she teases. “I could always stop by the bar on Saturday and make your fan club jealous.”

“Fan club?” I groan at the insinuation.

“Wait!” she says, too excited. “Are you wearing your wings on Friday? I might have to come by if you are.”

“I think the wings were a one-night-only special.” I take a sip of my wine, considering if I should just say it—tell her I’m her secret admirer. But I like the growing idea of coming up with one more special surprise as part of the reveal.

“You should really wear them on Friday. It’s Valentine’s Day!”

“We’ll have to see. How about you plan on not making plans on Friday evening, and we can go from there?”

“Sounds like not a plan.” She winks. “So, what were you up to today, before dinner?”

“Woodworking.”

She giggles mid sip, and I shake my head with a smile. “Get your head out of the gutter. I’m building a new banister for the house.”

“I’d love to see your place.”

“Yeah?”She wants to see my place?Should I read into it? I want to read into it.

“For the woodworking. I’d like to see your attention to detail,” Sarah flirts.

Shaking my head again, with a smirk glued on my face, I refill her glass. “I’m only biting my tongue because we’re in public,” I say and take a moment to check her out again.

This date is going incredibly well, and I can’t help but think about what comes next. It’s only our second date, and I have a rule about not taking anyone back this soon. But being with Sarah feels different. The chemistry between us is undeniable, and I’m more than tempted to show her my place.

“What about you?” I refocus on the present, staring at Sarah. “What were you up to today?”

“I spent too much time putting this outfit together.”

“Sarah Anderson, nervous. That’s a cute mental image.”

She furrows her brows, disagreeing with me. “So, when did you get this tall?” she asks. “I don’t remember you being this tall in high school.”

“When I was twenty.” I pause, taking a sip of my wine. “I know it’s weird. But that’s when I stopped growing.”

She chuckles a little.

“You’re fucking naughty,” I whisper, and she blushes a little.

“When did you get buff?” she asks, eyeing me.

“Over the last few years. I really enjoy calisthenics with a little weightlifting.”

“Just a little weightlifting?” she asks flirtatiously.

“Enough that I can throw you around sometime.”

“You think that’s what I want?” she asks in a high-pitched, maybe nervous, tone.

I take the opportunity to slowly rake my eyes down her, savoring everything about this flirtation and the way she looks. “I know that’s what you want.”

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