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Good Morning, Woodsman27,
I suppose I can forgive you, since you get up at the crack of dawn every day. Makes sense you can’t hang.
Clark had smiled at her teasing, wishing he didn’t second guess everything he typed. The last thing he wanted was to come off like a creeper, but meeting her had been at the forefront of his mind since her third message. It was strange to have had all of these discussions about their likes and dislikes, but not even know what color her eyes were.
The fear of moving too fast niggled, stalling his thumbs from responding.
If we’d met in person, I’d have asked her out on a date already, he thought.
Coffee was non-threatening, right?
No, not coffee. That implied meeting in the morning and it would be easier to find a babysitter at night. However, what if she said no to dinner or drinks because it was at night? He was a stranger on the internet and she was a single woman. She was probably terrified to reveal her identity, just like he’d hid his to protect Jace. And there was a chance she’d find out he was a single dad and lose interest. Some women didn’t want to date a single parent.
It would be ironic if the first person to catch his interest in years turned out to be everything he’d been avoiding.
He didn’t believe it though. There was something about KnottyGirl25 that came through the messages, warm and inviting, and he couldn’t imagine her being able to fake that. While a small part of him was willing to wait to meet her, the majority wanted to talk to her face to face. Even if they didn’t end up being anything more than friends, he really, really liked talking to her.
With a steadying breath, he typed,
I can hang in person, if you’re up for it.
The minutes ticked by like hours as he waited for her to answer; even if it was to tell him to go to hell, he didn’t think KnottyGirl25 would ghost him.
Finally, his phone chirped and he clicked on the message.
I’d like that.
A whispered “yes” escaped his lips.
How about tonight? Brews and Chews? 8:30pm. We can get a drink and talk?
That was the last message he sent and he hadn’t checked his phone since, mostly because he’d been too busy making and taking calls, getting ready for the harvest.
Clark stepped onto the peg of his quad and threw his leg over, settling onto the seat. As he turned the key and it came to life, he took off up the trail passing by the main house. He couldn’t wait to get off work, not only because he was bone-tired, but he had a good feeling he’d have a message from Miss Knotty.
He heard his name over the roar of the engine and pulled the quad to a stop, turning in the seat. Merry was tearing down the hill toward him, dressed in a pair of jeans and a butter-yellow sweater, her black jacket open and flapping behind her. He shut the engine off and waited for her to reach him.
“I’m so glad I caught you,” she panted, her cheeks red with exertion. Her blond hair was pulled back from her face in a single French braid, drawing attention to her hazel eyes and lush lips.
The fresh-scrubbed look reminded him of the Merry he’d met while working at the farm his senior year of high school. One afternoon, they’d been swamped and she’d helped him haul trees out to customers’ cars. He’d stared at those lips the entire time she chatted with him—well, more like chatted at him. He’d been painfully shy back then, but she’d made him laugh so much his face hurt. They’d never talked much until that day, but by the end of it, he’d screwed up the courage to ask her out. It would’ve been his first date and he remembered the way his heart pounded in his ears as he searched for her when his shift ended.
Of course, before he could catch her, she was climbing into the cab of a lifted white truck and driving off with some jerk from the football team. As Clark watched the truck turn the corner in the distance, he remembered why he’d never spoken to her before. Girls like Merry were busy every weekend with dates and parties, mingling with people who either ignored him or tormented him. He’d been crazy to think she’d look twice at a guy like him.
From that day until he left, he’d put the notion of Merry Winters as anything more than his boss’s daughter out of his mind.
She blew an escaped strand of hair off her forehead with a puff. “Sorry, had to catch my breath. Note to self, do a little more walking and less sitting this winter.”
“I think you look great,” he said, immediately regretting his observation. Merry was stunning, but that didn’t mean he should be commenting on it.
The red in her cheeks deepened to a violet hue. “Thank you. I’ve gained some weight this year enjoying too much good food, and—” She stopped abruptly with a laugh. “You know what, not important. I wanted to talk to you about the tree numbers. I’m organizing the Festival of Trees this year and I need at least eighty.”
Clark’s brow knitted. “Are you sure? I don’t have the numbers in front of me, but I thought the festival was fifty.”
“We’re getting some new businesses participating, which is why I’m requesting the increase. It’s really exciting.”
“That’s great. Can we talk about the details tomorrow though? I want to do my rounds and get back before the weather hits.”
“Oh, sure. Sorry to keep you. Just wanted to make sure it was doable. I didn’t want to promise something I couldn’t deliver.”
