Ready to Fall (10 page)

“I know you do, but I don’t know anyone and you already offered to show me around. We’ll make a pact it’s not romantic.”

I gave her a half-smile. “If you need a pact to fall back on in order to keep your hands off of me, then so be it. I’m well aware of how tempting I am.”

She chuckled and held out her hand. “I think I can resist. It’s you I’m worried about. You’ll eventually be unable to resist the power of the sweater.”

“We’re shaking on the pact to date without dating?” I held out my hand, but didn’t shake hers.

“That’s the point.”

“What about sex? You didn’t say anything about sex.”

“Implied in the “not dating” part of the pact.” Our hands still hovered over the bar, not touching.

“Who says you have to date to have sex? I think Donnely is living, breathing proof of that fact.”

“Sex is off the table.”

“Forever? Or just between us?”

“Between us,” she whispered and the words lacked certainty.

“Okay. No sex. No dating. Tour guide and eye candy at your service.” I reached my hand out and shook hers. Her grip was firm and she didn’t release my hand right away. Neither did I. Her smile reached her eyes when she glanced back at me.

“Done and done.” Her hand slipped from mine and reached once again for her beer.

The thing I’d learned about pacts in my life so far was they were made to be broken. I was curious to see how long this one would last and who’d break it first.

“One more point of clarification.”

“Yes?” she asked.

“Just because we aren’t having sex together, doesn’t mean we’ve agreed to a vow of celibacy, right?”

“You should have asked before shaking on it. No take-backs after.” Her laughter was throaty and she shook her head, letting her long waves shake down around her shoulders.

“Not taking it back, only clarifying. No sex in this not dating dating thing, but we’re free to get laid should the desire or need arise.”

She remained silent for a minute, her eyes sweeping over my face. “Should the need arise? Nice wording there.”

“Thanks. I’m proud of that one, too. Now, answer my question.”

“This doesn’t apply to me, since I only know you, Donnely, and the women at the studio. And I’m not having sex with Donnely. So sure.”

“You know Olaf here.” I gestured behind the bar to Olaf, who so studiously ignored us I knew he had to be eavesdropping.

“Sorry, but Olaf’s off the table, too.”

“Sorry, O.” He lifted his head and gave me a blank look. Maybe he wasn’t eavesdropping.

“For what?” he asked.

I was about to explain Diane wouldn’t have sex with him when I felt the sharp sting of her fingers pinching the hair on my forearm. Swatting away her hand, I said, “Ouch!”

“Zip it, Day,” she whispered in my ear.

“Nothing,” I told Olaf. “Another round?” I asked her.

“No, I’m good.”

“What do we owe you, O?”

I paid for both of our beers despite Diane muttering about not being a date and me not having to pay.

“Shut it, Watson. Friends still pay for shit.”

“Fine.” She sounded resigned. “Thank you. I’ll get it next time.”

“There’s the spirit. To next time.” I raised my glass and clinked it with hers.

“To friends,” she said.

I may have said it didn’t feel like a date, but I admitted I had more fun hanging out with her than I had on any real dates I could recall.

D
IANE
BLEW
ON
her cup of hot chocolate as we stood on the deck of the ferry to Port Townsend. A warm Chinook wind blew away the cold temperatures, giving us an early taste of spring. The sun shone for the first time in a week, brightening not only the sky but everyone’s mood. The crossing lasted longer than the trip to Mukilteo, but what awaited on the other side was less of a culture shock.

I had left my truck parked along the road near the ferry. We’d be exploring town on foot, so the good weather was a relief.

Sipping my black coffee, I stared out at the water, absorbed in my own thoughts.

“It’s a gorgeous view,” Diane said, gesturing at the far coast. From this vantage point the mountains loomed to the southwest. Their sharp peaks whitened with winter snow above deep evergreen forests.

“That it is. If you look back, you can see the Admiralty Lighthouse.” I turned her shoulders to face Whidbey and Ebey’s Landing.

“What are all those buildings and bunker things?”

“Fort Casey. Those bunker things are gun batteries.”

“Gun batteries?”

“First line of defense against a sea attack.”

She squinted at the retreating shore, trying to make out the details. “It all looks so
Officer and a Gentleman
.”

I had to laugh. “You have a thing for young Richard Gere?”

“Who doesn’t? Bad boy turned good guy with a heart of gold. Plus, the buzzed haircut and uniform? It’s one of my mom’s favorite movies. I grew up loving him.” Her sigh and swoon let me know she was serious.

“Girls and their bad boys.”

“You’re kind of a bad boy, so don’t knock it.”

“You think? How many bad boys take pity on their lonely neighbors and offer to show them the local sites?”

“Hmmm.” She scrunched up her face. “This’s true, but you’re still trouble.”

“If you say so.” I tugged the ball on the top of her hat. “
Officer and a Gentleman
was filmed around here. We could do a tour if you want.”

“Can we recreate the wet pushups scene?”

I searched my brain for what she was talking about.

“You know. Richard Gere in a wet T-shirt doing pushups. All kinds of hot.”

“You’re weird.”

“That isn’t a no.” She winked. “We can wait for warmer weather so you don’t catch cold.”

“Thanks. Ogling your friend should be an amendment to the pact.”

“Unspoken rule, my friend.”

“Then it goes both ways, friend.” I let my eyes wander down her body, unfortunately hidden by her coat.

“Nothing to ogle here,” she said, patting her puffy covered torso.

“Spring will come soon enough.” I gave her my sexy grin.

“Thank goodness. I don’t think my feet have been warm since I got here.”

“Welcome to the Pacific Northwest.”

“No kidding. Tell me more about today’s adventure.”

While the ferry made its way across the water, I told her about the town and nearby fort which mirrored Fort Casey.

Wandering around the streets lined with Victorian era storefronts was more amusing than I imagined. My ulterior motive for going to Port Townsend was pizza, but Diane’s delight over the used bookstore trumped even that. She dragged me through the musty stacks despite my protests I didn’t read. Ignoring my grumbling, she bought me a vintage copy of
The Story of Paul Bunyan
. Something told me it was to get me back for all my teasing, but she insisted it was an act of kindness.

“You, the beard, the axe, the dog named Babe. Come on, it all fits!”

“Babe is a dog,” I grumbled. “Not a blue ox.”

“Okay, besides that detail. You work in timber. You’re tall. How tall are you anyway?” She stood on her tiptoes and reached up to touch the top of my beanie covered head.

“Six-four,” I said, straightening up to my full height.

“That’s tall.” She continued with her inventory and comparisons. “You have broad shoulders, wear plaid and boots all the time. And you smell of wet pine and something earthy.”

“Are you saying I smell like a tree?” I cocked my head and stared down at her.

Again she stood up on her toes and leaned closer, but this time she sniffed my neck.

“Did you sniff me?” My voice broke into laughter.

“I did. Hold still while I decide what you smell like.” Placing a palm on my jacket, she leaned closer. Her own fragrance filled my nose. The scent of something citrus and floral mixed with warm wool when I leaned down to inhale more of her.

Her hand clenched at my jacket and our faces were inches apart. The sounds of the shop faded away and electricity crackled between us. A small turn of my head would bring my lips to hers. I froze in place, waiting for her to move. Another moment passed and she released her grip, never turning her head the minuscule, yet monumental inch.

Her breath trembled when she exhaled and stepped away from me.

“Yep, wet pine needles and earth. You do smell like a tree.” She chuckled nervously and a new pink colored her cheeks as she avoided my eyes. Grabbing her bag with my gift, she turned to leave the store. I trailed behind, my head cloudy with thoughts of what happened.

Outside, we strolled in silence along the sidewalk toward the dock. I could smell pizza on the breeze and suggested we grab lunch before heading back home.

We entered the little pizzeria, more of a hole-in-the-wall, and ordered their signature sourdough crust.

The awkward silence continued after we sat at a small table in the back.

“Pizza is kind of our thing,” I said, breaking the silence.

She smiled and her shoulders relaxed. “It is our thing. We have a thing.”

“We do. It’s nice.”

“John …”

I waited for her to continue while she fiddled with her silverware and napkin.

“I have to ask you something.”

“Shoot.”

“Okay, you have to promise to be honest.”

“Sure. Although, now you’re making me nervous.”

“Sorry, but back in the store… were you thinking about kissing me?” She peered up at me, but her eyes settled below my eyes, barely meeting my gaze.

I debated whether or not to tell her the truth. Honesty won out once I decided we were friends and friends don’t lie.

“It crossed my mind. I’m not going to lie. From the electricity between us, I’m guessing it crossed your mind too.” I tilted my head down to meet her eyes. “Yes?”

She nodded and aligned her knife with her fork.

“What would you have done if I kissed you?” she asked, not meeting my eyes this time.

“Kissed you back.” There’s no doubt in my voice.

Her eyes snapped to mine. I know she saw complete honesty in them. Hell yeah I would kiss her back.

Her full lips turned up in a smile and her eyes narrowed as she sought deception or mischief in my eyes.

“I’m not lying. I know we have the whole friend pact and we’re both members of the ‘Please Lord, no more shitty relationships club’, but I’m still a man. A beautiful woman is a beautiful woman and I’m going to want to kiss her, especially if she’s an inch away from my face.”

“You think I’m beautiful?”

“You are. There’s no thinking about it. It’s a fact.”

“You’re just being nice.”

“I’m not and I’ll prove it.” I flagged over our dreadlocked and Patchouli bathed waiter. “Hey, what’s your name?”

“Gabriel.”

“Nice to meet you, Gabriel. I’m John and this is Diane.”

Gabriel gaped at me like I was crazy, but said hi.

“Do you think Diane is beautiful?” I asked, ignoring Diane’s embarrassed groans.

Gabriel scrutinized, his eyes lingering on her face before sliding down her curvy frame highlighted by her sweater.

“Yeah, sure,” he said, not sounding exactly enthused.

“See? A neutral and unbiased opinion. Thanks, Gabriel.”

“Sure, man,” he said before wandering back toward the kitchen.

I smiled at Diane, who looked as if she wished the floor would open up and swallow her.

“Do you really think he was going to say no to my face? That completely doesn’t count!”

“Fine. We can do a wider survey and ask everyone on the ferry too.”

“Please don’t. I get it.” Her crossed arms and defensive posture disagreed with her words of agreement.

“Somewhere in there is a confident woman. I know it. I’ve seen glimpses of her. She’s sexy and she knows it.”

“Ugh, I feel like a loser who needs self-improvement lectures. Can we drop it?” Her tone was light, but she’d closed up again same as she had in the bookstore.

“There’s only one way to prove it to you.”

She crossed her arms and stared at me. “Prove what exactly?”

“You are desirable, sexy and beautiful.”

“More surveys?”

“No.”

I leaned over the table and took her chin in my hand. Her mouth opened slightly with her surprise. I studied her eyes before leaning closer, as close as we were before. “By doing what I should have done in the bookstore.”

I kissed her. It wasn’t hard or deep. More of a soft whisper with only enough pressure I could feel her begin to return the kiss before I pulled away and slid back in my chair.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, but remained speechless.

“You’re beautiful and deserve to be kissed.”

She blinked a few times before finally closing her mouth. Opening it to say something, she was interrupted by the return of Patchouli Gabe with our pizza.

Ignoring her fish-gaping, I pulled out a slice and slid it onto her plate, then put one on mine. I grinned at her stunned silence. “Now that we have that settled, eat your pizza.”

Without a word, she ate her slice, giving me sidelong glances. Eventually the pink in her cheeks faded and she spoke, “Thank you.”

“For what?” I asked.

“For not letting me wallow in self-pity.”