any difference, you look great to me just as you are.”
She glanced down at herself. “I don’t know. I was going to wear—I mean tomorrow night—this little red, sleeveless linen sheath with tiny rows of embroidered stitching all around the hem that I bought. But then I decided I didn’t really like it and should take it back—” She cut off her own words. “You don’t care, do you.”
Joe shook his head apologetically. “It’s not that I don’t care. It’s just that, like most men, I’m genetically programmed to understand only football rules and beer commercials. All I heard of what you said was la-la-la-linen, la-la-la-stitching.”
She laughed. “You poor Neanderthal. It’s lonely out there in the cave, isn’t it.”
“It is. And it’s cold. But we have great hopes for something called fire.”
Certain they were now on better footing, Joe added, “So, here’s a plan. We go out tonight and tomorrow night. That way, neither one of us has it wrong. Or has to admit it. Or will be here should Carl show up.”
“He’d better not.” But still, she stood there as she looked up at him with those big, brown bedroom eyes.
“So, what’s Colorado like? Lots of cowboys and snowmobiles?”
All right, she was still undecided and this was a stall tactic. Joe wondered, though, if she felt the same subtle force he did, the one that urged him to step closer to her. “Let’s see…Colorado. Well, it’s rocky, like you’d expect. Mountainous. Trees everywhere. And cold. Lots of snow. A few cowboys. Now it’s your turn. Where are you from? Uncle Maury didn’t tell me much about you, except that you are beautiful and have a great personality.”
A tinge of pink stained her cheeks as she shook her head. “Maury exaggerates.”
“Not in this case.”
“And now you’re just being nice. I’m a native Floridian, from Gainesville, where my family still lives. And I teach third grade.”
“Gainesville, huh? Go ’Gators. But third grade? Suddenly, I understand your need for pepper spray.”
Again she laughed. “They’re not as bad as all that. But their parents…” A dramatic roll of her eyes completed her joke.
Joe didn’t know what to say next, so he just stood there grinning and nodding—like an idiot, he feared. An awkward silence fell over them and slowly became painful.
“So,” he said abruptly, causing Meg to blink, “is this the actual date? The two of us standing here, you inside, me outside, talking?”
“Oh. No. Sorry.” She stepped aside and gestured for him to enter. “It’s not a date, but come in.”
He took a step forward.
“Or should I just get my purse?”
Joe stopped, waiting for her to decide.
“No, come in.”
Joe started forward again.
“Oh, darn, I still need to return that dress to the store, and I was on my way out when you knocked.”
Wanting to forestall any further doorway do-si-do, Joe suggested, “Why don’t we just return the dress when we’re out on our not-a-date?”
She brightened, smiling. “You wouldn’t mind? Really? Or maybe I should just wear the new dress.”
Joe thought he had her figured out well enough by now to say, “But you hate the new dress. And don’t go change clothes. You look fine to me in what you have on. Besides, I don’t have any big, fancy plans for this evening.”
“You don’t? Why not?”
Clearly she meant, Am I not worth it?
Joe thought fast. “I just meant it’s your town, Meg. I thought I’d be ready for anything you might want to do. That’s why I dressed like this.” He indicated his casual attire—jeans, neatly belted, and maroon knit shirt.
That seemed to satisfy her. “Okay. I was going to suggest dinner and then I’d show you the city…but tomorrow night, so I’m kind of disappointed.”
“I still don’t understand why we can’t do it tonight.”
“Because the free concert at Centro Ybor isn’t until tomorrow.”
“Yeah, that makes it hard.” Joe’s frown was for the unfamiliar term. “What’s Centro Ee-bore? Where’s that?”
Her expression brightened. “Oh, it’s fun. All kinds of stores, restaurants and clubs, and even a movie complex. It’s close by, just the other side of the Cross-town Expressway in Y-B-O-R City. Anyway, it’s the Latin Quarter of Tampa. Really historic. All about Cuban cigars. You’d like it.”
“Sounds like I would. We could still go tomorrow night…if you want. If we still like each other.”
“If we still do? So you think we like each other now?” Flirtatious best described her crooked grin.
It had an immediate—and elevating—effect on Joe. He stuffed his hands in his pants pockets to keep from grabbing her and kissing the hell out of her. Man, he just kept digging this hole of attraction deeper and deeper, didn’t he. Sure, he’d come here to visit his favorite relative, but also to take time away to think about his relationship with Linda, a really fine woman he’d been with now for about six months. She wanted things to get more serious…but he didn’t. So these ten days in Florida—three of which had already passed—were his chance to decide what he should do.
“You’re awfully quiet, cowboy. I mean, if you have to think about it that long, then—”
“Sorry.” Snapped back to the moment, Joe pulled his hands out of his pants pockets. Cowboy? Gazing at Meg Kendall’s pretty face, he decided he liked her teasing reference to his home state. This woman was going to keep him on his toes, he could just tell. “Yeah, we do. We like each other.”
Her attractive grin widened considerably. “Cool.”
Feeling way too warm, even for Tampa’s temperate evening air, Joe searched for something neutral to say. “We’ll be taking Uncle Maury’s car. You still want to go?”
She made a face. “Yes, but we can take my car, if you want.”
Smiling, Joe said, “So you’ve experienced the black and chrome monster. Personally, I would love to take your car, but we’d better take his. Evidently, he spent a whole week before I got here cleaning and polishing it. He’s pretty proud of it, and I’d hate to hurt his feelings.”
“Aren’t you a good nephew.”
Embarrassed, Joe feigned immediate insult. “Now, don’t go around saying things like that. If you ruin my reputation as the tough guy, cowboy type, I’d have to beat someone up all over again.”
“Really? Because there’s a guy named Carl I’d like to nominate for that honor. He’s kind of big, but
