Authors: C. J. Corbin
CHAPTER 6
The book took my time and attention the rest of the week. I ran with the dogs early in the morning and was usually at my desk by seven each day. Nancy called me every day to check on my progress and was happy to hear that the writer’s block was behind me. Each day too
,
she asked me if I
had
checked Michael’s website. I had not because I did not want anything to jinx my writing and distract me. She agreed but still thought I was nuts.
Debi knew to stay away too. She was aware that I was in deep with my writing so she left me alone. Instead, she sent Betsy each afternoon with a care package containing dinner and snacks. Food was the last thing on my mind when I wrote. Normally I would keep nuts and water on my desk just to keep my energy level up, but if cooking was on the agenda, it was not going to happen.
By Saturday morning, I was happy with the progress I had made on the book. Deciding to take the day off from writing, I planned to spend the morning on the lake. Burying myself so deeply during the week, I had not seen any of the Hoffman’s.
After putting on my black bikini, I pulled a couple of towels out of the linen closet. The weather was typically hot for August and the lake would be welcome where I could pull into a shady cove and read someone else’s book for a change. Dr
inks and ice filled a small
cooler. As soon as I pulled the doggy life vests out of the closet, Samantha and Topper’s little tails started wagging furiously, they knew it meant they were coming along. I packed a bottle of water and a bowl for the dogs in my bag.
As the dogs and I walked down to the boat, we met Michael finishing his jog. He waved and ran up to me. Not even a bit out of breath
,
he said, “I hope we’re still on for tonight? I thought I’d pick you up at seven?”
He looked delicious even as the perspiration ran down his chin and dripped onto his chest. This morning he was only in sweat pants and his
chest and shoulders were shiny with his exertion. His sweats rode low on his hips. There was a small trail of blond hair that led from the middle of his chest to his belly button, and then disappeared into the waistband of his pants. I had a maddening thought wondering if his hair was blond all over and just the thought alone made me blush and almost topple over.
His eyes failed to notice my blush and perusal of his body since he was eyeing my bikini as he roamed from my face down to my feet stopping in between at my chest, waist, hips, thighs, and legs. Michael gave me a great big grin when he saw that I noticed him giving me the elevator look. His smile was not the least bit apologetic either and reminded me of the dogs when I caught them staring at their cookie jar. Yes, I confirmed to myself, there was some mutual drooling going on.
I nodded, “Yeah that sounds good. Where are we going?”
“Do you know Mama Rosa’s in Ashley?” he asked.
“They have great Italian food. That would be terrific.”
“Good, see you then.” Michael smiled and turned to go back to his house. He turned around again and called out, “Very nice bathing suit!” He winked at me.
I just laughed, “Thanks.” This time he was not going to make me blush. The blush again started creeping up my cheeks. Okay, yes he was going to make me blush. I shook my head in disbelief. “Knock it off okay?” I called out to him.
Michael laughed and waved. He turned back toward his house while I finished loading up the boat.
The day out on the lake proved to be relaxing. After arriving at one of my favorite coves, I enjoyed listening to the breeze
s
blowing through the trees. Even though I tried not to think about my date with Michael, it was foremost
on
my mind.
I was afraid th
e evening would
disappoint me
because I had built
up my expectations
. Kevin had constantly
let me down
. He could be very romantic and charming but only when it suited him and his plans, otherwise he never tried very hard. Especially after I started writing, he always accused me
of
trying out my book ideas on him and Kevin would never cooperate.
Now I tried to avoid having expectations about anything. It was still hard though because Michael seemed to be very different from Kevin, at least I hoped he would be different. Still, my thoughts kept drifting to Michael and our date
.
W
ould he try to kiss me at the end or
would it be a staid handshake?
Would we have wine or would he shy away from alcohol because of my past wretched performance? Memories of being sick on the side of the road made me feel embarrassed all over again.
I wondered
if he would try to hold my hand?
I loved the look of his hands, and still remembered the enveloping feel of them when Debi first
introduced us. Would we dance? Mama Rosa’s had a live band on Saturday nights. I wasn’t a great dancer and as it was I was really out of practice, but the idea of Michael maybe having his arms around me was definitely appealing. As I lay in the boat thinking of Michael my stomach began to feel nervous and started to do flip-flops.
I concluded that it had to be hunger. The fresh air made me hungry. I maneuvered the boat quickly back to the cabin. After lunch, I lay down to take a nap and the dogs cuddled up with me. This was one of my favorite Saturday afternoon activities, especially if I had plans for the evening. Since I normally woke early in the morning, I usually could not stay up past ten. As far as I was concerned, naps were good and if I was asleep, I could not worry about the date. Nevertheless, lunch and the nap had not cured the nervousness in my stomach either.
After waking, showering and blow-drying my hair
,
I faced the big decision of what to wear. It had been a warm day and would probably be a warm evening so I decided on one of my favorites, a dark blue spaghetti strap dress. The bodice was tightly fitted with boning, no bra was necessary. The ballet length skirt was wide and flowing and it was perfect when I slipped on a pair of dyed to match sandals with three-inch heels. My hair fell down my back, and my curls were soft and relaxed after blow-drying.
My
appearance in the full-length mirror made me smile. There was a very feminine woman looking back at me
. T
he knock on the back door just as I was slipping small gold hoops into my ear lobes, brought me quickly back to the present.
As I opened the door, Michael stood in the doorway. My heart skipped a beat, my knees felt weak, and my stomach started the flip-flops. My mother often told me about the same reaction on her first date with my Dad, and I always thought she was exaggerating.
Michael looked more than yummy. Dressed in a black shirt open at the neck, he had rolled the cuffs of both sleeves up showing off his muscular forearms. The shirt tucked into black dress pants that fit him well, all the way down to his black loafers. In his left earlobe, he wore a small diamond stud. I suppressed the urge to reach
out
and touch the earring. Michael was one incredible looking man. With my three-inch heels, I could finally look him directly in the eyes.
Michael’s eyes showed an expression that was equally appreciative. He did not have to say wow. I could read it in his face.
“I see that you are all ready.” He smiled
with his deep dimples showing.
W
hen he took my hand in his, my heart was singing its own song of happiness since one of my fantasies for the evening was happening at that moment. My hand was in his. Michael’s hand was big, his fingers were long, and he held mine firmly. My heart was not only singing but doing a dance too.
“You might want to check out what we’re going to drive in.” He led me to the back porch. Parked there was a fully restored classic dark blue Mustang convertible.
“Oh, wow!” I said as I turned my attention away from his hand to look at the car. The white top was down and showed the blue and white leather interior. “This is beautiful. It’s a ’66, isn’t it?” I walked slowly around the car admiring each feature.
Michael smiled, “You know Mustangs.”
“One of my book characters had a ’65 Mustang. I always do a lot of research. Wow, wow, wow. Did you restore it yourself?” I asked.
Michael looked proud, “It took me ten years and it was a labor of love.”
“Let me go get a scarf and sweater.”
“I can put the top up if you prefer.” He suggested.
“Are you kidding? And miss the thrill of riding in a convertible, I don’t think so.”
I went into the house to find a long white scarf and the little white cotton sweater covered in sequins that I didn’t have much occasion to use.
I q
uickly
join
ed
Michael back outside
He opened the car door for me. I felt his hand on the small of my back as he guided me into the seat. Michael’s touch sent electrical charges through my body. I wrapped the scarf around my head and let out a deep breath realizing that I needed to get myself under control or
I
would
end up whirling into outer space.
He slid into the driver’s seat next to me. The seatbelt was only a lap belt.
“This is definitely pony.” I commented.
Michael chuckled shaking his head, “You know all the jargon too!”
“Like I said, I’m thorough with my research. I love this car.” I ran my hand over the dashboard.
“I’m glad you like it.” Michael was obviously thrilled with my reaction. He started the engine and it roared to life. “Ready?”
I nodded, “Let’s do it!”
The ride was exhilarating.
He accelerated a
s we approached the highway
which
connected Mintock and Ashley. It felt like we were flying. The people in the cars we passed were checking out the Mustang and we received thumbs up signs from them. Michael was in his element as we waved to the passing cars.
We arrived at the restaurant too quickly. I wanted the ride to go on longer and I think Michael did too. He parked the car near the front entrance and I sat still allowing him to open my car door.
I took off the scarf while I waited. As I stepped out of the car I asked, “How is my hair?”
Michael grinned and pushed it back off my shoulders onto my back,
“Perfect. You are beautiful.”
I concentrated on not blushing and this time I was able to keep the redness down. “Thank you for the great ride. I loved it.”
“You’re welcome. It was one of the three things I fought for during my divorce.” As he looked down, a shadow crossed over his face.
“And the other two were your girls?” I asked quietly.
He answered just as quietly, “And I would have given up the Mustang.”
He took my elbow and led me to the entrance of the restaurant. Since it was Saturday night, the restaurant was busy.
The owner greeted us, “Miss Elizabeth? Mr. Michael? You are together?” He spoke in a wonderfully accented Italian voice.
I gave Michael a surprised look, “How often have you been here, you’ve only lived in Mintock for two months?” Mama Rosa’s was one of my favorite restaurants and I had known Caesar for years.
Michael shrugged and Caesar saved him, “Oh Mr. Michael comes in many times with his lovely daughters. I have a perfect table for you, but it is not ready yet. A few minutes more. Please go into the bar. We have a new band, and they are good. Dance. I will come and get you.”
Michael found an empty table for us in the bar. The cocktail waitress came over quickly and took our drink order.
“Sorry I was a little melodramatic in the parking lot.” He smiled softly.
“Don’t worry about that,” I said, “I understand completely. I’ve been through it too.”
“I forgot, Tammy told me you’re divorced.”
I nodded, “Almost three years. I’m still paying him alimony.”
“Really?” he asked, “How long were you married?”
I sighed, “Five very long years. I wrote my first three books while I was married to Kevin.”
“I take it you are a bit more successful than your ex-husband.”
“You can say that
.
” I rolled my eyes.
After the waitress set our drinks on the table, I took a small sip of the gin and tonic. My nerves were jittery.
The band was playing. “Would you like to dance?” he asked.
“Sure.” I smiled in anticipation.
We joined a few other couples on the dance floor. The band moved into a ballad.
He
smiled his quirky smile that brought out his dimples. He pulled me close and we started moving to the music. Michael holding me provided a heady experience. I felt my insides melting and hoped I would not pass out. I recognized his cologne. It was one of my favorites by Chanel. I breathed in and quietly sighed.