Dating for Two. Marie Ferrarella

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Dating for Two - Marie  Ferrarella

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“I’m parked right out front.”

      And then she remembered. “No, you’re not.”

      The voice actually did seem as if it came out of the valise. Steve paused, looking from it to her. “Your suitcase is arguing with you?”

      “Sorry, I do that sometimes when I’m nervous. Tex puts me on a more even keel,” she explained.

      “You’re nervous?” he asked, amazed, thinking she was referring to having to speak in front of Jason’s class. “You certainly didn’t act like it.”

      “That’s why I have Tex.” Actually, she’d been fine talking to the class. She related to children. Her problem was talking to adults. That made her nervous. But he did seem like a nice man. At least he hadn’t said anything about her behaving strangely.

      “I just remembered that I’m not parked right out front—I had to park by the curb. The school parking lot was full when I arrived. They really should have more parking spaces,” she said as they walked out of the building.

      Steve looked around. She was right. All the parking spaces in front of the school were filled with vehicles.

      “I guess when they built the parking lot, they didn’t count on so many of the sixth graders driving,” Steve quipped.

      He had a sense of humor. She liked that. “They must not be automatically promoting them to the next grade unless they can pass their tests.”

      He pretended they were having a serious conversation and deadpanned, “I guess not.”

      “My car’s right over there,” Erin said, pointing to a small, economical-looking white Civic that had seen its share of miles. She unlocked the driver’s-side door, then flipped a lever to unlock the other three.

      She noted that Steve was still holding her valise. “You can put the suitcase right there,” she prompted, and then smiled when she caught the surprised look on his face. She could almost see what he was thinking. “You think my car should be fancier, don’t you?”

      By the looks of it, the car was about seven years old or so and while it wasn’t dented, it did appear weathered.

      “I just thought you looked more like the sports-car type.”

      “Nope, not me. Besides, Jeffy runs very well,” she said, patting the car’s hood. “He was there for me when I needed him and I tend to be very faithful if something comes through for me.”

      Was she just talking about her car, or did she mean that in general? he wondered. The women he’d encountered lately all seemed to be interested in “newer, fancier, better.” Sticking with something reliable didn’t seem to be in their game plans. He was drawn to this woman with the funny voices.

      “Do you name everything?” he asked.

      “Mostly,” she answered seriously. “But only if their personality comes through—or the name fits.”

      He had to admit he was intrigued. “And just how does Jeffy fit a Civic?”

      “The letters in the license plate.” To prove her point, Erin rounded the car and pointed to the rear plate, a combination of numbers and letters. The letters read JFF. “JFF is very close to Jeff, which is close to—”

      “Jeffy. I get it,” he concluded, then nodded, amused. “Interesting thought process.” Not to mention that she was a very interesting woman.

      He realized that if they went their separate ways right now, chances were that he would never see her again. He didn’t find that acceptable.

      Outside of his law practice, he was a fairly low-key, easygoing man who definitely wasn’t pushy, which was why he hesitated now.

      Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained, and he’d heard Jason laugh earlier. That definitely deserved further investigation.

      Steve caught the driver’s-side door as she was about to get into her car. She looked up at him quizzically.

      “Listen, I cleared my morning because I wasn’t sure how long this Career Day thing was going to last, so I don’t have to be back in the office until after lunch. Would you like to go somewhere and grab a cup of coffee or tea or something?” Because she wasn’t saying no, he added, “There’s a great little French bakery/café not too far from here.”

      Catching her bottom lip between her teeth, Erin glanced at her watch. There were things she had on her agenda for this afternoon and ordinarily, she didn’t just go off with a man she’d met less than an hour ago. As gregarious as she seemed around the children, around adults she was an extremely shy person who struggled to sound as outgoing as she knew she was perceived.

      For heaven’s sakes, it’s a café, not a sleazy bar in some rough neighborhood, a little voice in her head coaxed. Your mother’s always after you to get out more. This qualifies as “more” since you’re already out of the office. Go for it!

      Steve saw her looking at her watch and hesitating. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I guess I thought that since I didn’t have to be back until after lunch that you were free, too. You probably have to be somewhere right after your talk.”

      He’s giving you a way out. Take it, she told herself. Take it!

      Still...

      “Well, not right after,” she allowed.

      “Great,” he responded with a wide smile that she found instantly appealing. “Why don’t I just get my car and you can follow me to the café—unless you’d rather I drove you there.”

      She liked the fact that he didn’t immediately try to dominate the situation. “I always loved multiple choice—I’ll follow you,” she decided, feeling better about having her car with her—just in case things didn’t go well. It was hard making a quick getaway if her car was two miles down the road.

      “Stay right there,” he told her as he began heading toward his own car.

      “Can’t very well follow you if you’re not there to follow, now, can I?” she called after him, amused.

      “Right.” Still walking, Steve turned around so that his voice would carry to her. “Be right back,” he promised.

      As he hurried off, all he could think was that if any of his clients had been privy to this less-than-suave behavior, they’d have second thoughts about having him represent them in anything, much less in a courtroom. But while his professional behavior was decisive, intelligent and sharp, the private Steve Kendall was not nearly as dominant or forceful as the public one.

      Julia had spoiled him. They had been the proverbial childhood sweethearts—he’d known he wanted to marry her when he was all of thirteen years old, even though it’d taken him another eighteen months to work up the courage to steal a kiss.

      That had clinched the deal—for both of them.

      There had been no dating other girls, no oats, wild or otherwise, that he’d wanted to sow. All he’d ever wanted was to be Julia’s husband and the day he proposed, Julia confessed that she’d never even thought about marrying anyone else but him. They were

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