Page 28 of Cupid's Shot

“Wow,” I breathe, opening the door, seeing inches of leg exposed, not covered by her coat or boots.

“I was half expecting you to be wearing the angel wings.” She smiles, and I take the tray of chocolate covered strawberries from her, ushering her inside.

“They already did their magic,” I say, closing the door and keeping the freezing wind from entering any longer.

“Oh, yeah?”

“Well, you’re here … on Valentine’s Day.”

“What am I going to do with my corny cherub?” She laughs, leaning into me for a kiss. “Slippers? I never would have guessed you were a slippers guy,” she says, looking at my feet.

“This old house … it’s drafty. My feet are always cold.”

Taking her jacket off, she hangs it on the coat rack and then starts unzipping her boots.

“No.” I stop her. “Leave those boots on. I love them … and you don’t want cold feet.”

Sarah winks at me, and I bite my tongue.We have to eat dinner first.She is mesmerizing in the shortest red dress and over-the-knee boots … “You look great.”

“You don’t look so bad yourself,” she says, pulling at my fitted, maroon, knit sweater. “Is this the banister?” she asks, looking at the stairs.

“Yes.”

“Such a good woodworker,” she teases, running her hands up and down it. “Now, give me a tour.”

Shaking my head, I hold back a lot of funny comebacks. “Well, this is the entry way, take a right … into the dining room,” I say, guiding us.

“I have to put something in your fridge too. It’s a surprise,” she says, holding her bag. “Candles!” she cheers, seeing the array of candles on the dining room table and around the fireplace. “You are such a romantic.”

“I try.”

“These smells!” she moans as we walk into the kitchen. It’s every kind of indication of what she will be sounding like later. I bite the inside of my cheek, not revealing how hot I found that noise.

After examining the pans on the stovetop, she says, “This house is so nice! You did all of it yourself?”

“Don’t be so surprised,” I tease, and she flashes me a sassy little look. “The floors, tile, paint, refinishing the hardwood … all me.”

“Very impressive. Now don’t look, I’m putting something in your fridge.”

She twirls her finger, signaling me to turn around. I turn away from her, curious what this surprise could be.

“Okay. You can turn around again.” She giggles mischievously.

“Can I pour you a glass of wine?” I ask, stepping closer to her.

“Please.”

“Good girl,” I tease. “Being so polite.”

She swats my chest, but the new pink on her cheeks tells me she loved that.

“The bottle has been decanting for about an hour. It should be perfect,” I share, pouring her a glass, then myself one. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” I cheers her, staring into her beautiful blue eyes while we each take a sip.

“What is this?” she asks after taking her first sip, her eyes lighting up.

“Something special. Dinner's almost ready. Give me a couple of minutes to finish up. Go relax in the dining room.”

“So bossy,” she whispers with a smirk. “I can help.”

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