She’s looking for sex? My eyebrows pinch together as I stare at the words on the screen as if they’ll morph into something different. I’m not sure how I feel about this. I should be relieved and fist pumping in celebration, but for some reason I’m conflicted. Maybe it’s because she’s the first woman to intrigue me in a long time. If we set limits on our relationship from the start then we could be stunting something that could grow and possibly flourish. But...if I say I’m interested in more than sex will it scare her off?

I stare down at my phone, perched against my index finger and thumb, waiting to type a reply.

Me: Fun is good. How do you feel about dinner first and fun second?

Shit. My stomach rolls uneasily as I wait for her reply. What’s it going to be? Yes, no or maybe?

LadyLuc: Hmm, dinner first means less time for fun.

Okay, not a solid yes, but certainly not a firm no either.

Me: I’m sure we can arrange enough time to manage both.

I smile as I send the text. I’m feeling proud of my answer. Typing out a message to a new woman I’m interested in is so much easier than speaking. This Timber app could be a lifesaver.

LadyLuc: What are you thinking?

Me: Why don’t we meet tomorrow night at Lucero’s, 7 o’clock?

LadyLuc: Okay, I’m game.

Yes. I do a celebratory horse trot dance like Gangnam Style singing the song in my head until my feet freeze when my phone chirps with another Timber notification.

LadyLuc: Are you game?

Oh shit. I got so caught up in my celebration I forgot to reply.

Me: Definitely. Can I pick you up at your house?

LadyLuc: I’d rather meet you there. You know, in case you’re not Magnus.

I chuckle reading her reply.

Me: I understand. You’ll be relieved when you see I’m really me. FYI, I don’t lie either.

LadyLuc: That’s good to know. But I can’t say I’ve ever met a guy who admits up front that they’re a lying dickhead.

Me: Touche. Time will tell.

LadyLuc: Yes it will.

I smile as I ingest her words. She’s such a spitfire. I’m surprised by how attractive I’m finding that quality to be. After what Talia put me through, I’d rather have someone who’s brutally honest with me than someone who pretends everything is terrific all the while fucking someone else.

* * *

“Is that what you’re wearing?” Cam asks, judgement in his tone.

Cracking the top of the spring water, I take a deep gulp and make him wait to elaborate on what’s wrong with my choice of clothing. Glancing down at the jeans and blue plaid button down shirt I have on, my eyes flick in his direction. “What’s wrong with this?”

“If you were going to some dark, seedy bar with your friends it would be fine. But you’re trying to woo a lady and therefore, you need to up your game.”

“Your version of upping my game and mine appear to be two different things. I don’t think what I have on for clothes will really make a difference.”

“I beg to differ and let’s be honest, here. Which of us has the better style?” He asks, waving his hand between us.

My eyes take in his pink, perfectly pressed button down shirt, matching tie and gray dress pants. He definitely looks neater than I ever do, but I wouldn’t be caught dead in a pink shirt or tie. “I’m going with me,” I reply.

He scoffs and shakes his head, dramatically. “You’re such a lumberjack.”

I grin. “Is that supposed to be some kind of insult? You can do better than that, Cam.”

“Give me five minutes to choose something for you to wear and if you don’t like what I pick then you can leave your lumberjack uniform on.”

“I don’t know. I kind of like this shirt and the jeans are nice and broken in.”

“Mags, you only get the chance to make a first impression one time. What do you want yours to say about you?”

I mull over his words and take another sip of water. I do want to make a good impression with LadyLuc. I want her to find me attractive and to think I’m worth getting to know. Capping the bottle, I set it on the counter. “Okay, let’s do this, but if there’s something I don’t like, I’m vetoing your choice.”

“You’re on.” He heads across the kitchen with rapid strides, excited at the thought of going through my closet. Oh brother. Half of the stuff in there I don’t even remember where it came from. Probably a combination of Cam and Talia’s shopping, but on average I tend to wear jeans and t-shirts.

Placing the water in the fridge, I sigh as I resign myself that the next ten to fifteen minutes with Cam will be filled with awkward moments. As long as he keeps it about my clothes and leaves my hair alone, I’ll be happy. The best thing about my shorter hairstyle is he doesn’t ask me if he can braid it anymore. Talk about uncomfortable. As uneasy as those moments between us can be, Cam has become a good friend. He’s great people and his intentions are always the best. Most of the time when he says something outrageous I tend to ignore it and the times I can’t, I just call him out.

My pace is much slower than Cam’s as I make my way to my bedroom at the back of the house. I’m not feeling nearly as excited as he is at the prospect of having to play male model. I do that enough for a living.

Stepping inside the large space, the first thing I notice are the large windows and the oversized set of French doors that lead out to an enormous wrap around deck. My feet automatically move in that direction until I’m standing in front of the glass.

When I designed this house, I knew this was one of the most important parts. Sitting out there at all hours of the day and night is one of my favorite things to do. I love to kick back on the comfortable outdoor furniture and stare at the unobstructed view of Lake Piney. Some of my best thinking is done there.

The waning late day sunlight shimmers off the water attractively, making me long to be taking LadyLuc out on my speedboat instead of Lucero’s, the restaurant I mentioned.

Maybe next time.

If we get to a second date.

The nagging voice in my head cuts in like the doubting bastard he is. I’ll make sure she wants to go out with me again.

“Mags, come here please,” Cam calls from my large walk in closet.

“What’s up?” I ask, stepping inside the well organized space. There are floor to ceiling shelves holding all kinds of items, from t-shirts, to sweatshirts, to brand new sneakers that have never been worn and dress shoes still in boxes.

Many times when I do a photoshoot I’m given the clothing to keep. I’m six feet four inches tall and I weigh in at two hundred thirty pounds so it’s not like someone else will be using it. Most of the items I’m gifted get set on one of the many shelves never to be touched again. One of these days I really need to sort through this shit and donate some of it. It’s not being utilized by me anyway.

“Here,” Cam says, pushing a brand new light blue button down shirt and creased black dress pants in my direction. “Wait, don’t forget these.” He holds up a pair of black socks still in the package and a black patterned tie.

I take everything from him and then hand back the tie. “Here, take this. I’m not getting that dressed up. We’re going to Lucero’s and it’s more casual.”

He takes the tie from me, sucking his teeth in disgust. “All I can do is try to make you look like less of a ‘lumberjack.’” He shrugs.

“If she’s on Timber then I guess she likes the ‘lumberjack’ look.” I glance pointedly at Cam. “Can I have some privacy here?”

“Mags, it’s nothing I haven’t seen before. Cripes, you’re half naked on most of your shoots and you have to know I’m ogling you the entire time.” He smiles broadly.

Pinching the bridge of my nose, I fight for patience. I’m nervous enough for my date with LadyLuc and dealing with all of Cam’s shenanigans is not helping me any. “Out Cam, now.” I use my ‘I’m not fucking around’ voice that I reserve just for him in moments such as this.

“Okay, okay. Jeez, you can’t blame a guy for trying,” he mutters, strolling from the closet.

Kicking the door shut with my foot, I drop the clothes to the floor and begin to strip off the shirt and jeans I chose. They fall to the floor unheeded for now as I get redressed in the brand new clothing. The shirt is scratchy on my arms making me thankful for the tight white t-shirt I have on under. The pants are so tightly creased I could get a papercut from them. Balancing on one foot at a time, I switch out my socks and then grab the first pair of black shoes I notice on one of the shelves and a belt to match. I slip on the loafer style shoes and slide the black Italian leather belt through the loops, before fastening it.

Glancing in the floor to ceiling mirror on the end wall, I take in my appearance and give myself a nod. Not bad for a hulking lumberjack from Piney View. Running my fingers through my hair, I push it back off my face.

What will LadyLuc think when she sees me for the first time?

* * *

Fuck me. I notice her as soon as she appears by the hostess stand and my feet are in motion before I can stop them. All I’m thinking of is getting to this gorgeous woman as quickly as I can. The need to be close to her obscures everything else, including what I should say when we meet. As a result when I find myself standing in front of her, staring into the bottomless depths of her green eyes, I’m completely tongue tied. “H-h-h-h-hi, I’m M-m-m-Magnus,” I stutter out.

No. No. Fuck no.

My eyes briefly close in humiliation and when they reopen she’s watching me with a small smile teasing her lips.

“Hi, I’m Lucy,” she says holding out her hand.

Fuck, I didn’t even remember to shake her hand. This date has barely begun and I’m already failing. My hand looks enormous as it swallows her delicate one. A jolt of something I’ve never felt before rockets through me as our skin meets for the first time.

Breathing deeply, I mentally caution myself. Relax and enjoy tonight. “I-i-it’s n-n-nice t-t-t-o m-m-meet y-you.” Immediately I release her hand, clenching both of mine into fists. I’m so frustrated right now. The stutter that hasn’t shown itself in years has instantaneously reappeared with vengeance. And at the most inconvenient fucking time.

“It’s nice to meet you too, Magnus.” Her voice is different than I imagined. It’s feminine and melodic with a slight husky undertone. She could make a killing as a phone sex operator. Hell, I’d be a regular customer.

Staring into each other’s eyes, it’s as if the rest of the world ceases to exist. It’s just the two of us. At least it is until the hostess interrupts.

“I can take you to your table now.”