“H-hi.”
It’s the stutter that gives him away. Drew likes what he sees. And I like that Drew likes what he sees.
The extra time spent on my hair and makeup this morning after my “little moment” on the dock was apparently time well spent.
I open my mouth to save us both the awkwardness of recognizing that I no longer resemble some kind of island-hobo when he speaks.
“You look really pretty.”
Really pretty. The sweet and simple words corkscrew into my heart.
Too many people think boldness is the same as bluntness. But I disagree. Drew’s boldness doesn’t stem from the need to say everything that’s on his mind. No, he chooses his words carefully and lives by the honesty-is-always-the-best-policy rule. Which makes a compliment from him a thousand times more amazing.
His gaze steadies on mine.
I could take flight with the number of winged creatures filling my abdomen.
“Thank you.” A swirl of heat rises in my chest, then swims across my shoulders and down into my back and arms. I uncross my legs, plant them flat on the porch, and stand. “Did you want to come in?”
“Uh…not exactly.” Drew tugs on the back of his neck. “I was hoping you might be free today.”
“Do you mean free as in not ripping up soggy carpet, deep cleaning freezers, or rearranging old cabin furniture? That kind of free?”
Drew’s light laughter fills the space between us, my heart skipping to a new beat. “Free as in, would you like to come with me into town for the day and—”
“Yes!” I need an adventure—something to take my mind off of…well, everything. An adventure with Drew is a thousand times more exciting than sitting here alone.
“You didn’t let me finish. What if I was about to invite you to go garden supply shopping?”
“Then I’d tell you I’ll pick out the very best hoe you’ve ever laid eyes on.”
A quirk in his eyebrow followed by a twitch in his bottom lip takes my innocent comment plummeting to a whole new level of Joslyn’s Foot-In-Mouth Disorder.
He shakes his head. “Good to know. But I don’t want to take you to the Garden Supply Center.”
Heat floods my cheeks like a radiator set to high. “So where, then?”
“I need help building a float for the Fourth of July parade.”
A buzz of energy zaps through my veins. “Seriously?”
Drew’s confident expression wavers. “Yeah?”
I bounce and clap my hands like a three-year-old at a birthday party. “I’ve always wanted to help with a float!”
Drew holds out his hand to me and winks. “Then I’m honored to be the man who gets to fulfill such a wild fantasy of yours.”
Linking my arm through his, we head to his car. As he opens the passenger door, his eyebrows draw inward. “Joss?”
“Yeah?” I say, tugging on my seatbelt.
“Why is there a real estate sign at the top of the driveway with a giant X through it and the word ‘Not’ scribbled before the words ‘For Sale’?”
The heat in my cheeks is back, and it’s blazing down my neck.
I shift and sit straighter. “Because I’m not a child anymore.”
Three seconds of a solid Drew-stare later, he closes my door. No more questions asked.
*
When Drew pulls up to an old, dilapidated warehouse it’s as if I’ve jumped from Anne Shirley’s picture-perfect Green Gables farm into Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho .
My sense of adventure may not be the same as Drew’s.
This place is a dump. And given the dozen or so full black trash bags stacked in a pyramid at the side of the building, it might actually be a dump.
He shrugs apologetically as I step out of the car. “I know it’s not much to look at, but there’s no parking out front.”
I pinch my lips closed. Unlike Drew, my optimism is much harder to pull to the surface. I’d be willing to bet all four of my appendages that the front of this eyesore is no more appealing than the back.
Drew takes my hand and leads me toward a narrow alley at the side of the building. Half-dead patches of
It’s the stutter that gives him away. Drew likes what he sees. And I like that Drew likes what he sees.
The extra time spent on my hair and makeup this morning after my “little moment” on the dock was apparently time well spent.
I open my mouth to save us both the awkwardness of recognizing that I no longer resemble some kind of island-hobo when he speaks.
“You look really pretty.”
Really pretty. The sweet and simple words corkscrew into my heart.
Too many people think boldness is the same as bluntness. But I disagree. Drew’s boldness doesn’t stem from the need to say everything that’s on his mind. No, he chooses his words carefully and lives by the honesty-is-always-the-best-policy rule. Which makes a compliment from him a thousand times more amazing.
His gaze steadies on mine.
I could take flight with the number of winged creatures filling my abdomen.
“Thank you.” A swirl of heat rises in my chest, then swims across my shoulders and down into my back and arms. I uncross my legs, plant them flat on the porch, and stand. “Did you want to come in?”
“Uh…not exactly.” Drew tugs on the back of his neck. “I was hoping you might be free today.”
“Do you mean free as in not ripping up soggy carpet, deep cleaning freezers, or rearranging old cabin furniture? That kind of free?”
Drew’s light laughter fills the space between us, my heart skipping to a new beat. “Free as in, would you like to come with me into town for the day and—”
“Yes!” I need an adventure—something to take my mind off of…well, everything. An adventure with Drew is a thousand times more exciting than sitting here alone.
“You didn’t let me finish. What if I was about to invite you to go garden supply shopping?”
“Then I’d tell you I’ll pick out the very best hoe you’ve ever laid eyes on.”
A quirk in his eyebrow followed by a twitch in his bottom lip takes my innocent comment plummeting to a whole new level of Joslyn’s Foot-In-Mouth Disorder.
He shakes his head. “Good to know. But I don’t want to take you to the Garden Supply Center.”
Heat floods my cheeks like a radiator set to high. “So where, then?”
“I need help building a float for the Fourth of July parade.”
A buzz of energy zaps through my veins. “Seriously?”
Drew’s confident expression wavers. “Yeah?”
I bounce and clap my hands like a three-year-old at a birthday party. “I’ve always wanted to help with a float!”
Drew holds out his hand to me and winks. “Then I’m honored to be the man who gets to fulfill such a wild fantasy of yours.”
Linking my arm through his, we head to his car. As he opens the passenger door, his eyebrows draw inward. “Joss?”
“Yeah?” I say, tugging on my seatbelt.
“Why is there a real estate sign at the top of the driveway with a giant X through it and the word ‘Not’ scribbled before the words ‘For Sale’?”
The heat in my cheeks is back, and it’s blazing down my neck.
I shift and sit straighter. “Because I’m not a child anymore.”
Three seconds of a solid Drew-stare later, he closes my door. No more questions asked.
*
When Drew pulls up to an old, dilapidated warehouse it’s as if I’ve jumped from Anne Shirley’s picture-perfect Green Gables farm into Alfred Hitchcock’s Psycho .
My sense of adventure may not be the same as Drew’s.
This place is a dump. And given the dozen or so full black trash bags stacked in a pyramid at the side of the building, it might actually be a dump.
He shrugs apologetically as I step out of the car. “I know it’s not much to look at, but there’s no parking out front.”
I pinch my lips closed. Unlike Drew, my optimism is much harder to pull to the surface. I’d be willing to bet all four of my appendages that the front of this eyesore is no more appealing than the back.
Drew takes my hand and leads me toward a narrow alley at the side of the building. Half-dead patches of
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