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Go big or go home—to Canada, in this case.
I drop a quick kiss on Mom’s head. “I need to get ready for practice, but I’ll let you know about the game.”
But I need to talk to Bailey first. And then Parker so I can coordinate the biggest, loudest, impossible-to-question-its-legality surprise proposal possible.
CHAPTER 10
Bailey
Though I spentan entire evening with him the night before and woke up with him outside my apartment door, the sight of Eli walking into the shelter has my nerves buzzing like a neon sign. Maybe because the last time he showed up here, it was as Hot Puppy Guy.
Now he’s Hot Agreed to Marry Him Guy. I’m suddenly grateful to Katrina for taking a break at this moment so I’m the one at the desk.
Eli gives me a lopsided grin, shakes his hair off his face in a way thatcouldscream Justin Bieber circa 2011 but instead just looks boyishly adorable, and slides some papers toward me.
“I did my homework,” he says. I don’t miss the way his fingertips drag over mine as I take the stapled pages. “Do I get a gold star?”
“We don’t have gold stars. Only dog treats. Want one for being such a good boy?”
Dog treats, Bailey? REALLY?!?
Those words sounded outrageously more flirtatious—and possibly stupid—than anything I have ever said.
I immediately wish someone would pull me out of the room with one of those giant hooks that seem to always be lying at the ready in cartoons to drag terrible singers off the stage. I would also accept a giant version of the cranes in those rigged machines in arcades. If one dropped into the room right now, I’d grab it and hold on for dear life to be pulled out of this situation.
Eli laughs, looking absolutely delighted with my answer. “I’ve been averygood boy.”
I dip my head to hide my blush, pretending to scrutinize Eli’s application. His handwriting is surprisingly neat. I would have expected a messy scrawl, not neatly masculine block lettering.
Can handwriting be sexy? Skimming the page, I decide that yes, yes, it can.
Already, I see several interesting pieces of information on the form (his middle name isHagrid?), but I’m not going to read the whole thing in front of him right now. Definitely later. Maybe with a highlighter and a stack of multicolored notecards.
“Our application is only one page.” I frown, running a thumbnail over the three staples in the top left corner before I start turning pages. “Why are there?—”
Eli’s big hand curls around mine. He links our fingers together, settling our hands on top of the papers so I can’t look. It’s a weird angle to hold hands, but I’m not complaining. I like the way my small hand looks wrapped in his, seeing his neatly trimmed nails next to mine with their chipped pink polish and chewed off ends. I like the warmth and steadiness of him. Maybe a littletoomuch.
“Those pages are for later,” he says. His smile hits me like a sunrise, starting off slightly warm and building until I’mslammed with the full force of it. He gives my fingers a playful squeeze. “And I’ll take a rain check on the dog treat.”
It takes me several seconds to make sense of his statement, which goes back to my earlier question. “Oh. Cool. Um.”
If I thought conversation with Eli would be easy after spending an evening with this man, having him literally carry me in his arms to my front door while I hoped the way I was inhaling his scent wasn’t totally obvious, I was dead wrong.
In truth, Ihadn’tthought about it. Maybe if I’d known he was coming in today, I would have done some kind of mental prep work, but I didn’t. Now I’m frustrated with myself for making things weird. First, by my solid C+ attempt at flirting, and then by being unable to string together words with multiple syllables.
This whole marriage thing will have zero chance at believability if I can’t speak to Eli with some degree of normalcy. Maybe it’s like exercise, and I just need some time to warm up my figurative muscles.
Maybe not.
Eli releases my hand and taps the papers. “Is there some kind of approval process? A waiting period before I can start officially volunteering?”
“You can jump the line a bit since I can vouch for your character.”
I mentally give myself a pat on the back for formulating a full sentence that landed somewhere between friendly and flirty. And didn’t mention dog treats.
Eli leans his elbows on the counter, angling forward and batting his eyelashes at me. “You like my character, Leelee?”
That nickname again! I went to sleep remembering how it sounded in his deep voice, amazed by the fact that he thought about giving me a nickname at all.
