Page 50 of Finding Home

“I will give you this; He is an excellent kisser, and we have a date tonight.” Elle’s head jolted backward at Viet and Willa’s joint hoots and whistles.

NINETEEN

“Anne hoped she had outlived the age of blushing, but the age of emotion she certainly had not.”

~Jane Austen,Persuasion

There was debate on what number tonight’s date with Clayton was. It was either date nine if Clayton was counting, or date two if she was. Either way, as she pulled on a denim jacket over her flirty red dress, she was excited. It was a departure from her signature purple, but tonight she wanted to be the woman who wore a red dress on a date with averyattractive man.

Despite the fact he was cooking at his place, he’d insisted on picking her up like a real date.

“Hey.” Elle flung the door open at the first knock.

“Wow,” he breathed out. “You’re stunning.”

Elle’s face erupted in a giant smile. “You look pretty stunning yourself.” Biting her lower lip, her gaze roamed over Clayton’s muscular body. His blue jeans and fitted button up plaid shirt hugged him in all the ways she wanted to. Elle wanted to runher fingers through his freshly cut sandy blond hair, the sides shorter than they’d been this morning.

With an almost bashful smile, he slipped his fingers in hers, they were a perfect fit. Hands linked they strolled to the farmhouse.

The clack of nails against hardwood floors greeted them when they walked into the farmhouse. Fitz bounded up to Elle in the small foyer. Crouching, she massaged his velvety ears and got a smack of his tongue on her face in return.

“I see the maître d’ at this restaurant is very affectionate,” she giggled.

“He’ll also help with any leftovers.”

“Full service.”

She rose and slipped off her sandals. Clayton placed his big shoes next to her smaller ones.

“So, you can either come help me in the kitchen or go snoop around the house.”

“Oh, snoop please.” Elle imagined her grin was reminiscent of a five-year-old’s on Christmas morning. “Any rules or forbidden zones?”

“Nope.”

Elle wrapped her arms around his neck in an excited hug.

His lips quirked up. “I’ll come collect you when the food is ready or, if you get bored, I’m in there.” He gestured to the large entry to the right of the front door.

Peeking around Clayton, Elle spied a large, open kitchen and dining area.

With a squeeze of her waist and gentle press of his lips, he slipped away.

Curiosity buzzed in her bloodstream as she wandered. Passing a set of steps leading upstairs and a narrow hallway that ran toward open French doors, she shuffled into the living room. A navy sectional couch sat across from a large flatscreensuspended over the fireplace. She could picture Clayton with his feet kicked up on the coffee table binging a cooking show or reading a book from one of the oak bookshelves on either side of the fireplace. She traced the well-loved book spines that lined the shelves. Each book organized by genre. He had an entire row of Austen.

Swoon.

A copy ofWicked and the Wallflowerby Sarah MacLean lay on the circular coffee table. Elle skimmed the back cover, eyebrows raised at the historical romance’s description. Keeping it in her hand, she headed down a narrow hallway.

The French-style doors at the hallway’s end opened to his study. More books sat on two bookshelves flanking a cushy leather chair. Envy swept over her at the plush pillow-top window seat overlooking the treelined backyard. As a kid, she’d push two chairs together against the large window in the dining room, and pretend it was a real window seat.

“Hey.” Clayton leaned against the door frame, his mouth curved into a grin.

“How much extra to use this window seat during my stay?” She nestled into the cushy window seat.

“No charge. I can give you a key, so you can come over here anytime.”

“A key isn’t nec?—”

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