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"Right now?" I said, taking a chance. "Toward you." My mind raced. The alcohol and the rampant attraction pulling me toward April had me feeling a little bit unhinged. I didn’t have much to lose, and I was speaking almost before I’d decided to do so.
April's brows lifted in surprise, but she recovered quickly. "Okay, sports star, listen. This charming act might have worked for you in the past, but I've got a job to do. A bowl of moonshine and some fries coated in crap are not enough to make me forget that you are singlehandedly standing in the way of me getting it done."
"Best place I've stood in a while." I couldn't help it. April Hall was beautiful, but April Hall getting worked up and determined? She was fucking gorgeous.
She rolled her eyes, but a little pink blush was climbing her neck, and I wondered suddenly if that gorgeous shade of pink covered her smooth perfect chest. I could see the hollow at the base of her throat, thanks to the V-neck sweater she wore, and the faintly beating pulse there made me want to touch it, trace it with my tongue, maybe. I forced my mind back to the table, to my drink, to April's face. Other parts of my body continued considering what April's skin might feel like.
"Look," I said, keeping my voice low. "I'm sorry. I honestly didn't plan to drag you out to dinner and waste your time if you need to get back and focus on work. I know you're not here on vacation, and I don't mean to distract you. It's only that…" I ducked my head for a second, gathering my nerve. I took a big swallow of my punch. "It's just, I haven't really been myself in a long time. And I don't know why, but when I'm around you, I feel more like myself than I have in a while." Maybe ever, I added mentally.
April had that look on her face again, the narrowed eye, head-tilted expression that she seemed to use when she was trying to figure something out. She pressed her lips firmly together, opened them as if to respond, and then pressed them together again. Finally, after what felt like years to me, she responded. "I have no idea what to say to that."
Great. I dropped her eyes, staring into my enormous bowl. Making myself vulnerable with women wasn't something I’d done a lot of before, and now I understood why. It would have been less humiliating to strip naked in the middle of this shack than to have April reject me after I’d basically just told her I was interested in her.
But she hadn't finished speaking, it seemed.
"I'm not really accustomed to things like this," she said, and I lifted my eyes in time to see her motioning between us, or maybe at the table in general.
"To things like Sam's Shack? Or bowls full of moonshine?" I hoped humor might distract her from the fact I’d basically just laid as much of myself bare as I was able to and she'd ignored me.
She cleared her throat and the beautiful pink blush climbed higher on her cheeks. "No, I mean… to having honest conversations about whatever might be going on."
I realized she was talking about us. About whatever might be going on with us. Which meant there might actually be something going on. But I’d already thrown myself out there and didn't have the strength to do it again. Not so boldly, at least. "Oh," I said, as if I’d just understood her meaning. "Right. Well, so there's this show you produce, see? And I won't let you film in my house. So we're talking about that, and you're going to try to convince me."
She slumped back in her chair slightly, as if realizing I was not going to be straightforward at this point. "Right."
"So when are you going to start?" I asked, grinning at her.
"Start what?"
"Trying to convince me."
"Callan, I've been trying since I met you. You're evidently the most impossible and stubborn man to ever slurp punch from a bowl inside a shack."
I laughed at that. "Maybe I am." I ate a few fries, watching her, and decided to try one more time. "You done trying to convince me, then?" God, I hoped she wasn’t done.
"I already know money won't work, and legal threats don't work either," she said. "Common decency doesn't seem to be your thing, since you don't care if I lose my job…" she trailed off, and then, out of nowhere, a huge hiccup flew from her lips. Her hand went to her mouth and her eyes widened in surprise. "'Scuse me!" The blush deepened.
Oh, this was good. She was completely adorable embarrassed.
My head had begun to swim a bit as I found the bottom of my punchbowl, and he looked across the table, realizing April's own drink was already gone. Jeff arrived just then, sweeping in with two more drinks and two plates of crab cakes on a platter, which he set down next to the table.
"Oh god, no more punch," April said in a half moan, followed by another loud hiccup.
"Courtesy of the women at the end of the bar," Jeff told us, and I peered down to see two older women giggling to one another and waving. One of them wore a very trendy track suit with a few gold chains around her neck, and the other was dressed in a simple sweater.
"Who are they?" I asked.
"That's Helen and Lottie," April said, waving a hand. "Lottie's house is on the show. Helen is just trying to see what will happen if I drink another one of these, I think."
"Huh," I said. "Well, you don't have to drink it."
April hiccupped again. "I told you, I don't back down from a challenge." She hiccupped again and then began eating, just as the Shack's sound system cranked into a higher volume, blasting “Jingle Bell Rock” throughout the small space.
"Oh god," April moaned, covering her face with her hands. "I hate Christmas music."
I stared at her. "What? No one hates Christmas music."
"They do. People totally do. I do."
