“I’m going to leave the windows open,” he said. “In case more are hiding out.”
“Good idea.” She looked at Joe’s house in front of her. A beautiful hedge of pink azalea bushes lined a concrete front stoop. The house was sand-colored brick with cream shutters and a brown front door, which matched the brown door of the garage.
Joe got out of the truck, and before she could pull the latch, he’d jogged around and opened the passenger door for her, then held out his hand. She took it, inwardly smiling, appreciating that he was such a gentleman.
He paused, letting go of her hand. “Uh, do you want to come in? Or I can bring the lotion out here.”
She hesitated. This is not a date, remember?
“I’ll come inside.” She followed him down the sidewalk to the front door.
When she crossed the threshold, she was immediately impressed. The house was not only tidy but nicely decorated too.
“I’ll be right back. Make yourself at home.” He gestured to the brown leather couch in the living room.
Sophie winced. “I think I’ll stand.”
He gave her a puzzled glance, then disappeared down the hallway. A few seconds later he came back. “Brand-new bottle,” he said, taking off the cap. He held it out to her. “You first.”
She threaded her fingers together. “I don’t have as many stings as you do. You go ahead.”
“Are you sure?” When she nodded, he dabbed the pink lotion on the swollen bites on his arm. “I need to get some ice on these too,” he said, putting the bottle down on the kitchen counter. “Do you need some?” When she shook her head, he asked, “You got stung in the truck, right?”
Nodding, Sophie felt her cheeks flame, and she frowned. She hated that she blushed so much. “I did.”
“Where?”
“On my backside.”
His lips twitched. “You’re on your own with the lotion, then. The bathroom is down the hall.”
She caught his grin as he turned to the refrigerator and opened the freezer. She couldn’t help but smile as she took the bottle and went to the bathroom, which was just as tidy as the rest of the house she’d seen. It was also neater than her place. Housekeeping was always last on her list of things to do. If they had gone to her place, she would have been even more embarrassed than she was now.
Sophie applied the soothing lotion to her sting, wondering how she managed to get stung there in the first place, then walked back into the kitchen. Joe was sitting on a barstool next to the kitchen counter, an ice pack resting on his forearm. She set the lotion on the counter.
He moved to get up. “Do you want something to drink? I’ve got Coke, water, tea—”
“I’m fine.” She moved a little closer to him. “You didn’t put any lotion on the sting on your face.”
He touched it. “Is it bad?”
“Not too bad.” The welt was red, but not as angry and swollen as the ones on his arm.
Still, it needed tending to before it got that way. She picked up the lotion, took off the cap, then put a little on her index finger. She leaned over and dabbed it on his cheek.
“There,” she said, surprised at the softness in her voice. “Feel better?”
His eyes didn’t move from hers. “Much.”
The swirling of butterflies in her stomach was now at a fever pitch. When his gaze dropped to her mouth, she could barely breathe.
He’s going to kiss me . . . and I’m going to let him.
* * *
If Sophie knew how badly Joe wanted to kiss her, she’d probably slap him. At the very least she’d walk right out of his house and call a friend or an Uber to come get her. Having made several mistakes already, he was determined not to screw up now. He yanked his gaze from hers and stood, the movement almost painful—and not because of the bee stings.
“Uh, it’s probably safe back at the range now,” he said, turning his back to her as he tried to get his wits together. “Claude probably has the exterminator on the premises by now.”
“Oh. Right. I’m sure it is.”
He turned back to her, wondering if he was imagining that she sounded disappointed. Of course, he was, because now she wasn’t even looking at him. She was scanning the room, and he was thankful the cleaning service he’d hired to come by twice a week had decided to come out today instead of yesterday. Usually his place, while not dirty, was messy, mostly due to him being so busy, which was why he’d hired the service.
Why was he thinking about cleaning, anyway? Because it’s better than thinking about kissing Sophie. He pressed the ice pack to his arm, but what he really needed was a cold shower. If he couldn’t keep his focus on something other than Sophie, he’d end up kissing her, and that would be strike three in her book.
He tossed the ice pack on the counter and headed for the front door. “I’ll make sure the truck is empty of critters,” he said as he opened the door, then walked out without waiting for her response. When he got outside, he drew in a deep breath. Get it together, man!
Serious about making sure his truck was clear of bees, he checked everything, including the engine, which not only bought him time to collect himself but also proved that they were finally free of the pesky insects. He walked back to the house and poked his head inside the front door.
“It’s safe now,” he said, then nearly laughed out loud at the irony. His emotions were definitely not safe, and the sooner he got her back to the range, the better.
He opened the truck door for her, barely thinking about the gesture because he’d always done it. He even opened the door for his sister, although she, being the independent woman she was, always pitched a fit. Which was why he never failed to open the door for her. He climbed in the driver’s seat, and a few minutes later they were headed back to the range.
The silence in the cab was overwhelming. Why weren’t they talking? Everything had been easy until . . . Until you almost kissed her. Had she sensed that he’d wanted to? He had no idea. If he’d learned one thing this evening, it was that he couldn’t trust his emotions.
Joe turned into the parking lot, which was now empty except for Sophie’s car and Claude’s classic Crown Victoria. The old man was holding a can in each hand and spraying them around the stall where the teenagers had been. When he saw Joe pull up next to Sophie’s car, he hurried over to them. Joe rolled down the truck window.
“What happened?” he asked when Claude reached them.
“Idiot kids.” Claude scowled, looking like he was ready to exterminate some teenagers. “They saw a hole in the roof and started throwing balls at it, trying to see if they could get one in. I was going over there to tell them to knock it off when bees started coming out of the hole. You know the rest.” He shook his head. “I guess I should thank them. At least we weren’t busy, and now I know I need to inspect for more nests. Anyways, I’m closed for the night, obviously. Did you two leave anything?”
“The club I used and the golf ball bucket,” Sophie said. “I can get them for you.”
“I’ll put them up.” Claude lifted the cans. “Back to work I go.”
Joe rolled the window back up as Claude took off. He frowned, wondering if he needed help. As soon as he said goodbye to Sophie, Joe decided to find out. He turned to her, prepared to see that she’d opened the door and was already halfway out.