CHAPTER NINE
Wednesday, July 26th
Brady’s front door opened before Claire could get out of her car. When he stood on the doorstep with a big grin on his face, she figured he was looking forward to their evening together. The delay in their date due to work had seemed to ratchet up the excitement for both of them.
She had to reschedule on Monday and he’d had to reschedule yesterday. Which meant Claire was left at home last night all dressed up with nowhere to go. Instead of fretting, she had turned her energy into making a fruit Jell-O mold that resembled a floating island. Not that she meant for the creation to become so elaborate, but one thing led to another and she had outdone herself.
The chances of Brady thinking she was ridiculous for making something so outdated were pretty good and she had debated bringing it over a hundred times in her head. The thing that made up her mind was that she wanted to be as authentic with him as she could. He’d seen her at work for a couple of months, so he had a pretty good idea of who she was and what she liked, so she decided not to paint a false picture.
That’s what the online dating thing was for. At first, she thought the only way to succeed was to craft an honest, straightforward profile. Then reality seeped in and she realized that there was only so much honesty a stranger could take. The difficulty of marketing herself to potential suitors was a lot more challenging than she ever could’ve guessed. And it had taken her a good long while to polish herself up like a piece of her grandmother’s silver and come up with something that worked.
Which felt kind of lousy, but what could she do? Had she told the truth, she would still be sitting at home on her couch. It wasn’t like she could say, “Twenty-six-year-old woman with high IQ and impressive hacking capabilities seeks hot guy to spend time with, watching Netflix, making dinner, and smooching.”
Because if ever there was a truth…that was it.
Instead, she fluffed herself up and included things like “enjoys reading” (true, but mostly thrillers), “loves to dance” (true, but in the kitchen), “interested in adventure” (not true, but could be forced). She even gave herself some hobbies that she had only vaguely thought about. Which meant that she was no better than anyone else on the site. She understood that the men she’d met had probably done the same thing.
But such was the nature of dating in the twenty-first century. Hookups, meet-ups, and swiping right had never worked for her because she wasn’t someone who would be appreciated in the first thirty minutes of an introduction. Unfortunately, it often took people some time to see that she might be worth the effort, and that wasn’t how texts and DMs worked.
Looking out her car window, she saw Brady, handsome as sin, waiting for her to pull her butt out of the car. It just didn’t make any sense, but neither did sitting here questioning things. Pulling her purse across the seat, she opened her door and got out. “Hey.”
“I thought you might not get out and were having second thoughts about our date,” he said as he crossed his arms.
“Let’s not call it a date. Let’s just call it hanging out,” she replied. She walked around to the back of her Honda, opened the trunk, carefully extracted the Jell-O extravaganza, and hoped he wouldn’t laugh. “I brought dessert.”
Brady walked over, took the dish out of her hands, and grinned. “My mama used to make these when I was a kid. They were my favorite dessert.” He leaned over and kissed her cheek. “No one has made me one except her.” He lifted the dish up, turned it around, and whistled. “This is a damn impressive creation. Reminds me of a floating island.”
Putting her hand to her chest, she felt a well of emotion bubble in her chest. Not only did he like it, he knew what it was. “I’ve won a couple of contests with my molds, and this isn’t even my most impressive. I’d be happy to make you one whenever you want.”
He shifted the dish into one hand and then slung his arm over her shoulder. “Got to say this date is starting off beautifully. Not every day a man gets an offer like that.”
Looking up into his eyes, she tried to determine if he was making fun of her. When all she saw was sincerity, she felt the wall around her heart crack a little. “Hanging out, not a date,” she reminded him.
“I don’t care what we call it as long as we’re together, enjoying one another’s company and getting to know each other.”
As they walked into the house, she figured she couldn’t argue. Why she was trying to name what they were doing? It was silly…but it was the only thing she could come up with to gain some control.
God, she loved control.
But Brady wasn’t going to be a man she controlled, nor was whatever was happening between them. So, she might as well relax and save her energy. Lord knew she was going to need it if the sparks that were happening ignited into a flame.
***
Sitting on the patio, Claire enjoyed the small breeze that brushed across her skin. The summer heat wasn’t bothering her as much as it usually did because it had forced Brady to take his shirt off while he grilled the steaks. Admiring his wide back and muscled arms was a fine way to enjoy the evening. The fact that he had nice legs as well was a bonus that she was also appreciating. “You want me to do anything else for dinner?” she called out.
“No, darlin’. I’ve got the taters in the oven and you already made the salad, so as soon as these steaks are done we can eat.”
“Thank you for cooking.”
He glanced over his shoulder and winked. “This is the extent of my culinary abilities, other than the mean scrambled eggs I can whip up.”
“I love to cook. My gran taught me every one of her secret recipes and I can cook as good as any woman from the 1950s. Unfortunately, I never learned much beyond that, so my skills are stuck in a time warp. Hence, my love of Jell-O molds.”
“When my mama passed away, Lilly’s mama took us into her kitchen and into her care. If it wasn’t for her, we might have starved because my daddy fell apart. Rochelle Bertrand made us sit at her table every day for two years and then as often as she could wrangle us after that.”
“I met her when I was over at Lucy’s restaurant and she is a sweet woman. Formidable, but sweet.”
“That’s her. She’ll just as soon hug you as she’ll lecture you. If she can do both at the same time, then she’s accomplished her goal.”
“Sounds like my gran,” Claire replied, running her hand over the patio table. Sweet memories floated up of the woman who had loved and cared for her.
“So, your gran raised you after your parents passed?” he asked as he shut the lid of the barbecue.
“Yes, she took me in and raised me through my teens. Not everyone wants to take on a teenager, but she did and seemed to relish having me with her. I think who I am today has a lot to do with her.”
“Only if you’re lucky do you get someone like that in your life.”
“That sure is the truth. I was very lucky to have someone so loving and strong. The woman passed on her love of flowered dresses, Jell-O, and chicken-fried steak, and I embraced it completely. I also developed my programming skills due to her failing health during my senior year in high school, and I ended up with a career.”
“Now, there is a story that I want to hear.” He checked his watch, then pulled the steaks off the grill and plated them. “Let me get my T-shirt back on and we can go into the kitchen and get everything together.”
Standing, she put her hand on his and shook her head. “It’s hot. You might as well be comfortable.” When he gave her a blazing, sexy smile, she figured that she’d somehow shown her hand. So what if she wanted to enjoy a beautiful view at dinner? It didn’t make her a bad person for thinking that Brady was the beautiful view she wanted to enjoy. “It’s your home. You should be comfortable.”
“Same goes for you, Claire. You want to take anything off to cool down…feel free.” He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. “I like my guests to be comfortable.”
Clearing her throat, she looked down at the very interesting concrete and prayed her face wasn’t the color of a tomato. “You’re an excellent host.”
“You have no idea, Claire, how excellent I can be.” He took her hand, lifted the plate filled with steaks, and led her into the house.
Breathing deeply, she tried to get herself calmed down. Being around Brady felt both familiar and exciting. Like she’d known him for a long time but had the hots for him just the same. Two of the best feelings in the world rolled into one. She’d never thought the two went together for some reason, but being around Brady let her know she’d been wrong.
Very wrong.
Once they were in the house, they worked side by side in the kitchen with complete ease. No bumping into one another or fussing. It was like a dance they’d done a thousand times before. Once they had their plates made and glasses filled, they walked into the sunroom and sat down. Just as they were about to start eating, Claire popped up. “I almost forgot. I made a playlist. Let me get it and we can see how our tastes collide.”
“We collide just fine,” Brady commented as she pulled her bag off the counter and got her phone and wireless speaker out. Once she had it set up, she hit Play, and the sound of Johnnyswim filled the room. “I hope you like this. I just discovered this duo and I love them. They marry a Nashville vibe with some LA cool.”
Brady listened for a moment and grinned. “I like it. What’s the name of this song?”
“Summertime Romance,” she said quietly. When he covered her hand with his and lifted an eyebrow, she knew he was going to read into it more than there was.
“Our romance is going to last about a hundred summers, so it seems fitting.”
Bingo, she thought. Definitely making more of her song choice than there was. When he didn’t say anything else, she moved her shaking hand away and set it into her lap. Maybe just leave it alone and hope he let it go.
Brady lifted his fork and pointed at her plate. “Let’s eat so we can get to the Jell-O.”
Laughing, she decided not to worry about one summer or a hundred and just tried to enjoy the evening. “So, how do you like being back home and working in the private sector?”
“I like how you start out with the easy questions. What happened to ‘What’s your favorite movie?’ or ‘What do you like to do in your free time?’”
“I already know that because you filled out the questionnaire and I read all your answers.”
“And…”
“You were really honest when you answered all the questions.”
“Kind of thought that was the point. Show who you are and see if it’s going to work?”
“In theory, yes.”
“Let me guess. You polished up your answers for your online dating profile and expected that everyone else did the same.”
“Well…if you want an honest answer, yes, I polished myself up so that I might appeal to someone. Let’s face it, admitting that you don’t much care for wild nights and prefer watching a movie at home is not going to get many men interested.”
“I’m interested. I like what we did this weekend. Minus the trip to the crappy bar across town, the weekend was about perfect. We had ice cream sundaes on Friday night, breakfast and a walk on Saturday. Plus, dinner at my brother’s house with friends. Then we had a late lunch and an afternoon in a park looking at dogs. Granted, we didn’t find one yet, but we can keep looking, and I expect by the end of summer, we’ll find the one meant for us.” Leaning over, he kissed her gently. “If we add a couple more thousand of those kisses, then I’d say we have a formula for a weekend that we’ll both enjoy.”
When he put it that way, he was exactly right. It was the perfect weekend. And the things he wanted to add were real interesting to her, despite the fake protests she was trying to conjure up. She was attracted to Brady. Hell, she’d have to be deaf and blind not to be. And since she wasn’t either of those things, she didn’t think that resisting him was going to last much longer. “I can’t disagree with you.”
“Which is why we are meant to spend as much time together as we can. Despite the differences.” Tilting his head toward her phone, he shrugged. “I like the music you’re playing, so I’d say we’re just about perfect together.”
What could she say that wouldn’t lead to a debate? Maybe they were so different that they were perfect for one another. Opposites attracting and all of that. She lifted her fork, started eating the delicious meal he’d prepared and decided to enjoy his company. “Well, you may be right,” she said.
“No maybe, darlin’. I think the differences make things interesting. I mean, if we choose someone similar to ourselves, then it kind of defeats the point of finding a mate. When I was with HRT, I always looked for someone who had the opposite set of skills as me to partner up with. I was damn good at what I did, but I needed someone to balance me out. I think that’s what successful relationships need. Ying and yang and all of that. Two of the same have never made the species evolve and I expect there is some wisdom in that.”
“So, you’re saying together we are stronger because of our differences.”
“Exactly. I can physically outmatch almost anyone. Mentally, I’d say you can do the same thing. I’m bigger, stronger, and faster than you and you’re smaller, more flexible, and more creative than me. What I can’t do, you can and vice versa. Two of the same are rarely the best option in anything.”
“As long as there are enough shared interests to ensure there is some common ground. Bickering and disagreeing have taken down nations, not to mention couples,” she replied.
“‘Pick and choose your battles’ is my motto. What is the thing you can’t compromise on?”
Sitting back, she thought about what he’d asked. That was a hard question and one she didn’t have an immediate answer for. “I’m not sure.”
“That’s actually a good answer. It means that you’re flexible. I know that I wouldn’t compromise on keeping you safe. If I thought you were in danger, there would be no room for discussion. It would be my way and that’s it.”
“Makes sense,” she said. “It’s your career, the thing you’ve trained for since you joined the FBI.”
“If I had to choose one thing, I guess I’d say I wouldn’t compromise on bedding. I know what I like and I don’t want to give it up.”
“You mean like sheets and stuff?” he asked incredulously.
“Yes. I like the nice cotton sheets that have been washed enough to be soft. Add to that delicious quilts and poofy pillows and you’ve got yourself the perfect bed. Scratchy, ugly bedding is not something I’m ever going to put up with.”
“Not sure how my sheets are going to hold up against your exacting standards, so we either have to run over to Target and get what you like or spend our nights at your house.”
“I don’t think that’s anything we need to be worrying about anytime soon,” she said as she picked up her fork and started eating again.
“Oh…yes, it is. Not tonight, necessarily. But soon. You give me a list and I can make sure I have what you like. I’m not going to have the wrong sheets stand in the way of us being together.”
There were a lot of ways to respond to a statement like that and none of them seemed quite right. To deny that she wanted to roll around with him at some point would be a lie. To say that it was absolutely going to happen would be another. Sure, she was attracted to him more than anyone she’d ever met, but what she was going to do with that attraction was still up for debate. “Finish your dinner so we can try my floating island.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he replied with a wink.
His lack of argument didn’t mean a thing. She knew he was biding his time until he could make his next move. The man was a gifted tactician and she knew that whatever he came up with next was going to be a doozy. Hopefully, it would be something she was ready for.