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Picking up my phone, excited to have a perfectly legitimate reason to text him, I type out my question.
Me: So what would it take for you to share the secret of making homemade biscuits?
It takes a moment for a response to come back.
DILF Pickle: A second date.
Me: What if I said my little sister had a craving for homemade chicken and biscuits and I’m only capable of the chicken part? Would you be willing to help a girl out?
DILF Pickle: Are you saying no to a second date?
Me: I’m asking if it’s possible to get the biscuits first and the date after?
Ophie tosses a pillow at me, hitting me square in the face. “I assume you’re texting your grumpy single dad?”
“Why would you say that?”
“Because you’re grinning like an idiot.”
I stick my tongue out at her before grinning. “Maaaaaaybe.” My phone buzzes on the chair beside me and Ophie darts a hand out to snag it before I can read it. Unlocking it with my face, she holds it just out of reach before reading Kel’s response out loud.
“I’m not even going to ask about the DILF Pickle name.” She shakes her head. “He says ‘Biscuits on such short notice would normally be out of the question, but I just happened to make some this morning.’” Ophie looks up from my phone screen. “I like him already. Can I have him if you don’t want him?”
“No, you cannot.” I growl, surprised by the sudden violence of my feelings. When I spot Ophie’s face, I narrow my eyebrows. “What?”
She ignores me, typing into my phone before handing it back. She’s given him our address, complete with a kissy face emoji.
“Sister dear?” Ophie sings, pushing up from the couch.
“Yes?”
“You might want to hop in the shower…” She sniffs at the top of my head.
“That bad?” I laugh, but push to my feet anyway. I actually haven’t showered since my date with Kel a few nights ago. Carefully, I hobble my way to the bathroom.
Twenty minutes later, I’m putting the finishing touches on some light makeup when there’s a knock on the front door. My hair is still wet, but at least it’s clean and I don’t smell. It’s not like we’re about to go out on a date—he’s just stopping by to drop off some biscuits.
I adjust my sweater to show my cleavage a little and limp my way to the front door. Ophie is reaching for the handle as I knock her out of the way. Kel is standing in the fading light, raindrops glistening on his beanie and the shoulders of his denim jacket. Butterflies race through my stomach at the sight of him, looking just as hot and slightly tortured as I remembered.
But then my stomach drops when I realize he’s not even looking at me. There’s mud on the bottoms of his boots and jeans and instead of the calm and collected Kel who took me out on Thursday, his gaze is distant, like he’s got a million things on his mind.
“Hey, we had an emergency right as I was leaving. I can’t stay, but here you go.” He turns to go, but I’m not about to let him leave so quickly. Not after the way he’s been haunting my thoughts all weekend.
I snag his elbow as he turns to leave, stepping outside on the rain-soaked welcome mat. “Ugh, wet socks.” Kel raises an eyebrow at me. “Do you want to come in?” I almost let go when he stares intently at my arm, but I have a gut feeling he needs permission to take a breath about something, so I wait.
“The destemmer broke and I have to drive up to Seattle to get a replacement belt.” He pulls his beanie off to run a hand through his hair. “I need to hit the road if I want to get there before the place closes.”
On impulse, I pull him inside the house. “How about I come with you? You look like you could use some company. Give me five minutes? Ophie, come take the biscuits and don’t let Kel leave.”
I leave him in her hands and disappear into my bedroom before Kel has a chance to object. I change my socks and put my boot back on, slipping a sneaker onto my other foot. Twisting my hair up into a bun on top of my head, I hurry back out, worried Kel will leave without me if I don’t hurry.
“Ready?” I snag my purse off the floor and my coat off the hook on the wall. “Will you save me some of that?” I nod toward the container in Ophie’s hands, then I take Kel by the hand and pull him out the door.
He doesn’t say anything until we’re both inside the car and the engine is running. “Are you always this pushy?”
“Pushy, impulsive, spontaneous—take your pick.” I grin at him, shoving aside the worry that he doesn’t really want me to come. From the way his shoulders have dropped away from his ears, I think he does. He just doesn’t know how to say it. “Road trip time!” I add, pointing my fingers down the road with a little dance, hoping to get a reaction.
I’m rewarded with a laugh, and the tension surrounding Kel drops. He leans back against his seat and takes a deep breath, his eyes closing as he exhales. After a beat, he opens them and finally looks me in the eye. “Thanks. It’s been a shit day. Getting the phone call that the only place remotely local that has the part I need is in Seattle was just a shitty cherry on an already fucktastic day.”
