number, size and brand of the shirt. I will have something sent by midweek.”
With that, Queen Agnes turned and left.
They were dismissed.
* * *
AJ was thankful for the way Pepper and Sydney jumped in and distracted the customers who were kind enough to focus on the food and not the scene that had just unfolded. This left AJ free to do damage control with Shane.
“I am so sorry,” AJ said to Shane.
After being humiliated by her grandmother and dousing him in barbecue sauce, what else was there to say?
She wished she could blame her grandmother for unnerving her, but really, it was her own clumsy fault. She should have been more careful and watched what she was doing. Or as Grandmother would say, “her comportment had been lacking.” Again.
Shane was only a customer, after all. Not someone who should fluster her.
“Please don’t worry about it,” he said. “No harm. No foul. Now, if I’d been wearing my Dallas Mavericks jersey, that would’ve been another matter all together.”
“Lucky me. It’s not game day.”
“Yeah. Lucky you.”
She felt her hot skin blanch, until he grinned and winked at her. Then her cheeks went all hot again.
“The stain is drying to look like a bad tie-dye job,” she said.
He gazed down at the soiled area. “I haven’t worn a tie-dyed shirt since I was a teenager.”
“Well, there you go. Merry Christmas, a few months early. Here, let me get a pen and some paper and I’ll get your information for my grandmother.”
He tried to wave her off. “Let’s not. Please? Just tell her I left before you could get it.”
“Are you kidding me? You saw how my grandmother is. I’m not going to cross her again. So, wait right there.” Playfully, she pointed at him. “That’s an order.”
She grabbed a pen from her purse and picked up a napkin. She turned back to him, half expecting to see him walking away, but he was still there. He hadn’t left. He hadn’t stomped off in a furious huff—as if normal people actually stomped. Of course not. Only her grandmother did things like that. The fact remained that Shane was standing there, making light of her faux pas. At that moment, something inside of her shifted.
Besides being a very good-looking man, he seemed like a good man. If for no other reason than that, she wanted to get to know him better.
“Here,” she said, handing him the napkin and pen. “Write down your size, the brand of shirt you like—make it something expensive since Grandmother is paying. Also, write down your apartment number and your phone number. I am going to fix you dinner since I put you through all this trouble. I’ll call you and we can figure out what day this week would be good.”
He regarded her for a moment. Then he tore the napkin in half and handed a piece to her.
“I’ll need your number then. If I’m giving you my number, you have to give me yours. Call me old-fashioned, but I think the man should be the one to call and arrange the first date.”
“Date?” AJ sputtered. Did he think she was asking for his number to call and ask him out? She tried to think of a witty retort, something to put them back on level ground, but his words, “Call me old-fashioned,” resonated in her head.
“What? You don’t want to go out with me?” He frowned. “Are you rejecting me? Do you have a prejudice against men who smell like barbecue sauce?”
She loved the mischievous sparkle in his hazel eyes. Those eyes—with their green and brown and amber flecks—were almost hypnotizing.
“I don’t remember you asking me for a date. The last I remember is my offer to cook for you. What? You don’t like my cooking?”
Shane smiled and picked up one of the Tailgater sliders. He took a bite and chewed. AJ couldn’t help herself, her gaze dropped to his lips and for a moment, she lost herself, wondering if they tasted as good as they looked.
But then he swallowed the bite, and her gaze skittered back up to meet his. Their eyes locked.
“If today is any indication of your talents, I’m fairly certain I’ll fall in love with your cooking. But why don’t we start with a first date?”
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