My heart swells a little at the familiarity with which she talks about my best friends. She was amazing with everyone the other night, totally natural and in sync with their joke slinging and name calling. Honestly, that may have been what cinched the deal for me on this whole date idea.
“Shit.” I chuckle, setting another bag into the freezer. “My bad. My mind’s wandering.”
“You need a break,” Jessa says solemnly.
“I was thinking the same thing. We both need a break,” I say, proud of myself for this smooth-as-hell transition. “Actually, I was thinking about going on a date.”
“Oh, okay. Yep, you should.” Her gaze flits to mine for a second before locking back onto the measuring cups. “I’m good to watch Marley whenever.”
Wait. What? Jessa thinks I meant a date with someone else.
Fuck. That’s my bad for being vague.
“No, I mean . . .” I reach for her hand, instantly regretting the electricity-inducing contact and craving it in equal measure. “You and me. Would you like to go on a date . . . with me?”
Jessa is shocked speechless. With each second that passes as I wait for her response, I’m closer to throwing myself through the nearest window.
Is this wildly inappropriate? Have I just lost my nanny?
Finally, she blinks, and her lips purse into a secretive little smile. She tugs at my hand playfully. “You mean us? Like going on a date-date?”
“Yeah. A date-date. If you’re up for it.”
“Well, duh,” she blurts.
I can’t help the grin that breaks out across my face. I’m so fucking relieved, and she’s so fucking cute.
She tucks an unruly strand of hair behind her ear before asking, “When?”
“You free tonight?”
“Yeah.” Jessa chuckles, all sparkling eyes and blushing cheeks. “What did you have in mind?”
Shit. I hadn’t thought that far.
“I’m thinking dinner. Drinks. My treat. How does that sound to you?”
“Good.” She sighs happily, and damn, do I love that sound.
“Good.”
I echo the sentiment, enjoying the way the sunlight peeks through the blinds and lights up the freckles across her nose. Never mind the fact that we’re shamelessly flirting before eight in the morning.
Glancing at the clock, I wince. “You think you can handle the rest of this? I should head to work.”
“Sure. Storing your ex’s breast milk is a lot easier than I thought it’d be.” The words come out so fast that Jessa only realizes how strange they are a moment too late. She scrunches her eyes closed and recovers with a sheepish smile. “Yes, I mean.”
“Great.” I chuckle, squeezing her hand. “I’ll see you later.”
The whole drive downtown, I grin like a little kid on Christmas morning. By the time I reach the shop, my face is actually sore from all the smiling. I guess it’s been a while since I used these muscles for a stretch. Jessa brings that out in me.
Throughout the workday, that stocking-stuffer giddiness dissolves into a nagging concern that I jumped into this too quickly.
Dinner and drinks are fine, sure, but where should I take her? What kind of place would Jessa enjoy?
I’m struggling to come up with a plan for tonight without falling back on old date ideas. Hayes is off today, so I make the mistake of asking Wolfie and Caleb for their input on how to make this night special.
“Erotic body painting,” Caleb says, his expression a little too casual for comfort. It doesn’t help that he’s currently juggling Ben Wa balls, and has been doing so for the past hour.
I roll my eyes. “Okay . . . next.”
“You could just stay in. Cook dinner. Watch a movie,” Wolfie grumbles, ever the homebody.
“Jessa and I spend all of our time at home. I want to do something she’s going to remember.” Preferably with a happy little smile on her lips when she thinks of it. Of me.
But all I get is a shrug in response.
I groan, leaning against the stockroom door. “Guys, you know I’m out of practice. I need serious ideas.”
I wish Hayes weren’t conveniently absent, or else I’d hound him instead. Or have him ask Rosie, his grandmother. Or even Maren. They’re all romantics, so they’d have this figured out in no time at all.
“Oh shit. I’ve got it,” Caleb says, dropping all of the balls with a clatter to snap his fingers like some corny cartoon character. He digs into his back pocket and pulls out two small postcards. “Fuck yeah, this is the best idea ever. You’re welcome.”
I take the postcards, hoping against all hope that Caleb will for once prove to be useful. “‘Spice Up Your Sex Life,’” I read with a frown. “‘A workshop for curious couples.’ Dude, no.”
“Why? It’s the first class of our workshop series. It’s gonna be dope.”
“Because this is a first date, you lunatic.”
“Then what about the other one?”
Lifting the second card, I raise an eyebrow at the words I’m reading. BLOW-JOB BASICS. The glare I shoot Caleb could turn him to stone. “Do you wanna die?”
He lifts his hands in surrender. “You asked me. If you don’t want advice from the modern-day Casanova, don’t ask him.”
I roll my eyes. Fucking hopeless.
I fold the cards in half and stuff them into my pocket. The last thing I need is to add any more fuel to the burning sexual desire I feel for Jessa. Out of sight, out of mind.
Before I leave the shop, I shoot Jessa a text asking her to meet me at the house. I text back and forth with her for a bit about dress code and logistics without giving away too much of the plan. When I get home, she’s already sitting on my front porch, wearing a dark purple dress and a simple pair of black flats.
“Hey,” she calls over the hum of cicadas with a smile and a short wave.
“Hey,” I say, walking up the steps. “You look incredible.”
My low voice probably gives away exactly how attracted to her I am. Don’t get me wrong, she even looks incredible in yoga pants and a T-shirt with spit-up down the front. But this outfit has my heart fluttering like a caged butterfly.
Jessa cocks her head, her hair tumbling over one shoulder like a chocolate fountain. “Thank you.”
When I get closer to let her inside, I note the dark lipstick accentuating her already plush lips. She smiles when she catches me staring. The girl is hot as hell, and I’m pretty sure she knows it.
I grin back, swinging the door open and bowing my head like some sort of Victorian dandy making way for a queen. The gesture earns me a lilting laugh that echoes down the hallway of my home. Tonight is going to be fun.
“This is what I’m thinking. We head back down Lakeshore Drive toward the shop, and have dinner and drinks at this upscale little patio bistro down the block. Then when we’re done, we can take a walk down to the lakefront and watch the sunset. What do you think?”
“Sure, sounds like fun to me.” She grins, leaning over one of the dining room chairs, her cleavage peeking out of the top of her dress. Hot damn. “You’ve got the whole night planned out, don’t you? For once, you don’t need my help,” she teases.