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My brown suede work tote is laid out on the table with my three options I already decided against for tonight. I stack my clipboard, planner, and printed agenda before slipping them in along with my little canvas bag with my flare-tip markers, sticky-notes, and tabs. My keys get clipped inside and I zip my phone in the pocket.
And I promptly pull it right out since I need to know when Tommy arrives. My hand shakes almost imperceptibly. Closing my eyes, I focus as I breathe in, and then breathe out.
It’s a meeting, where you’re not presenting, followed by drinks with new friends. You’ll know most, if not all, of the people there.
In, and out. Over and over until my hand vibrates because a message came through.
Tommy: I know I’m a little early, so take your time if you need more, but I’m here when you’re ready.
A smile spreads across my face. I like a guy who doesn’t show up late, or forgets me altogether. Which is what my second-to-last ex did. Was I that forgettable?
Either way, Tommy’s here now, so even if it’s just a mutual friendship, I’ll take it. My heart knows that Tommy Landen is a catch no matter how you get to have him in your life.
Oh no. What if he asks me to be his wingman so he can pick up someone else at the bar? No, that’s ridiculous.
Shaking my head, I turn off all the lights in my apartment except the one I always keep on near the door, flip my keys out of my bag, lock the door, and am on my way. Making sure the front door fully latches, I give it an extra tug.
And then I see him. A genuine, unrestrained smile lights up his face and I know it reaches his eyes even though they’re behind his aviators. My heart skips a beat. Waving, I let myself return the smile without reservation. His white cowboy hat sits on his head and I haven’t decided if I like him better with or without it. Tommy could wear a fruit basket and look amazing. He casually steps away from the passenger door and opens it for me.
Another skipped heartbeat.
Oh my goodness he smells so good. It’s almost torture to walk past him without brushing my fingers against his.
I step up into the passenger seat, making sure my skirt doesn’t catch on anything so I don’t make a complete fool of myself. By the time I’m settled and buckling my seat belt, he’s getting into the driver’s seat with this hat in hand. He gently places it in the back seat and runs his hand through his not-too-short light brown hair that has one piece that likes to fall over his forehead no matter how many times he tries to move it away. My fingers itch to brush it back just once for him. After placing his aviators on the dashboard, his bright blue eyes are fixed on me.
We just sit there as I hold my breath, staring at each other, that warm smile on his lips. Lips that I would love to…
“Thanks for driving me,” I say, breaking off that train of thought and remembering to make my lungs work. “I know it’s a small town, but I swear, just last week I got lost.”
Something softens in his gaze, making me melt a little. “Anytime, truly.”
My heart squeezes and my stomach flip-flops as I’m already mentally shaking myself out of the daydream I’ll think about tonight after we have our group drinks.
“I’ll have to pick you up sometime,” I say, trying to make it seem like I’m not some damsel in distress who refuses to learn how to drive around this tiny town.
“If we’re meeting at Barnett Farms or at Jackson’s house, then you can pick me up. Otherwise, maybe we can agree to let me do the driving so you don’t go fifteen miles out of your way for a meeting one mile from your place.”
His wink doesn’t help the swarm of butterflies that seem to have taken up permanent residence in my belly whenever I’m around him.
That sounds long-term.
But it’s just friendship and convenience. It has to be.
Tommy and I are just friends.
Chapter 4: Tommy
Worry creeps into my mind about how she might feel about me driving her to meetings and town events. She works too hard to do the right thing. The proper thing. I know, in my gut, that she’s not going to want this town to think that she’s bouncing from brother to brother.
But I know that, if she’ll let me, I’d like to be the one to pick her up for meetings, to take her out for drinks, to be the one to walk her to her door. If I fuck this up, she’ll just see me as Jax’s pathetic younger brother who has a crush on the new girl. I’ll miss whatever minuscule chance I might have with her. Maybe I just need to be direct, but not too direct.
She ducks her head as she pushes some of her blonde curls behind her ear. “Fair enough.”
Wait, what?
“Does that mean I get to pick you up for the monthly movie night subcommittee meeting, too?” I ask, trying to not push my luck.
Sam looks surprised. “You’re going to drop me off at a meeting you’re not going to?”
