She’d said yes. More than that, she’d fallen apart beautifully in Justin’s arms when he’d dared to touch her. All of that boded well. So did the fact she hadn’t questioned his preference to have their date at his home—out of sight of the gossips. His love life had been the subject of enough gossip without adding fuel to the fire. As he tidied his sparsely furnished living room, he noticed for the first time in months that the cushions on the sofa were worn nearly all the way through and the wooden coffee table in the center of the room was scarred with half a dozen coffee-rings staining the surface.
Damn. Emily was the queen of interior décor. She’d turn her nose up at his home, for sure.
He couldn’t do this alone. He needed reinforcements.
“Coop,” he said, when his brother answered the phone. “You working?”
“Nope,” Cooper replied. “And a good afternoon to you too, bro.”
Justin ignored him. Cooper was too much of a smart-alec for his own good.
“I’ve got a date tonight,” he said, without any preamble. “And I don’t have a fucking clue what to do.”
Cooper laughed at him, the bastard. “Sounds like a dilemma.”
“Damn it,” Justin grumbled. “Just get your ass down here and help me.”
Cooper seemed to think about it. “Will there be beer?”
Justin ran a hand through his hair and tugged on the ends. “I’ve got a six-pack with your name on it if you’re here in less than fifteen minutes.”
“See you in ten.”
Before Cooper arrived, Justin cleaned up a few superficial things, like the coffee stains, and the layer of dust on basically everything. When Cooper sauntered through the doorway, he beelined to the fridge and opened a bottle of beer. Once he’d taken a long swig, he set the bottle on the counter and jerked his chin up in a nod of greeting.
“You got a date, huh?” he asked. “Been long enough.”
Justin grunted. “Tell me about it. I haven’t had a first date since high school.”
“Who’s the lucky girl?”
Justin hesitated. “Promise me Mum and Dad won’t hear about this. It’s one date, not a relationship.”
Yet. It’d be a relationship before long, if everything went according to plan.
Cooper spun circles with his finger. “My word is my bond, yada yada. Get on with it. I want to know who’s pulled you out of that misery pit of despair that Chloe cast you into.”
“I haven’t been that bad,” Justin muttered, a little miffed. So he hadn’t been the leader of the cheer squad lately. He’d hardly been Scrooge either. “It’s Emily.”
Cooper raised an eyebrow. “Little Miss Sunshine.” He shook his head slowly. “You asked Emily Parker on a date and she said yes?”
Crossing his arms defensively, Justin scowled. “You don’t have to make it sound like I’m a beast or something.”
Recalling the way Emily’s breath had come in soft little gasps when he’d kissed her and how she’d blushed prettily when she admitted she’d had a crush on him in high school, he didn’t think she had a problem with his looks.
She’d had a crush on him.
When she’d told him that, he’d felt manlier than he had in months. Years, even. How could a woman like Emily desire a man like him, when, in his typical idiotic fashion, he’d overlooked her? He could have spent years with Emily rather than Chloe, but he’d been like all teenage boys, flattered by the attention of a self-confident girl.
“Earth to Justin.”
He snapped to attention.
“Where’d you go, man?”
He shrugged and didn’t reply. Cooper surveyed him from head to toe, and suddenly he was very aware of his unfashionable clothes and scruffy appearance, which was exaggerated in comparison to his brother’s golden good looks, low-slung jeans and leather jacket.
“I say this lovingly,” Cooper began. “You’re a fixer-upper, and Emily’s notoriously slippery. Manages to avoid dating anyone without blatantly turning them down. So it surprises me she’d make an exception for you.”
Which made it vital he not screw this up. “If you’re done insulting me, can you tell me how to make sure she comes back for a second date?”
Cooper lifted one shoulder. “I don’t think my advice is going to help you.”
Justin’s heart sunk. “Is it a hopeless case?”
His brother sighed. “You would take that comment the wrong way, wouldn’t you? You’re your own worst enemy. What I meant is that Emily has rejected me and most of the guys I know at some time or other, but she said yes to you and what I’m sure was the most unromantic dinner invitation ever, so I’ve got no idea what makes her tick. I could try to teach you my moves, but I doubt they’d do you any good.” He clapped Justin on the back. “Apparently, she likes you, bro. Just thank your lucky stars and be yourself.”
“Worst advice ever,” Justin grouched.
“Best I can do,” Cooper said. “But there’s one other piece of advice I can offer: pretty this place up a bit. Come on, it screams ‘I don’t give a damn’. Women don’t like that. Get some candles or flowers. Vacuum.” He picked fluff from his pants. “There’s cat fur on everything.”
“I could have figured that out myself.”
“So why ask me for help?”
Justin paused. He didn’t really know. Lack of self-assurance, probably. But he’d come this far on his own. He just needed to believe in himself. And in Emily. She wasn’t shallow enough to dismiss him because he lacked the polish of some men. Heck, maybe she was even attracted to him because of that.
He could do this.
“I’m being a dumbass, aren’t I?”
“Yes. Amen to that.” Cooper finished his beer, grabbed the rest of the box and headed for the door. “I’ve gotta get home. Got some photos to develop. Trust your gut and for God’s sake, don’t mention Chloe. Oh,” he paused in the doorway, “and try to smile. The moody, brooding thing is so five years ago.”
Justin stretched his lips into a grimace, exposing his teeth.
Cooper looked taken aback. “On second thought, maybe don’t smile. You’ll scare her off.”
“Thanks, man.”
Cooper saluted. “No worries. Let me know how it goes. And change your sheets, just in case.”
The door swung shut behind him. Justin pondered his parting comment. Change the sheets.
He shouldn’t. It would be presumptuous. Emily wasn’t that kind of girl. But it had been two weeks since he’d washed them. What could it hurt?
A quick trip into Timaru, the nearest city, to buy a few candles and a tablecloth—he couldn’t risk buying them in Itirangi, the old biddies would be swapping stories about it within the hour—and he returned home for a tidying spree. He didn’t buy flowers. Buying flowers for a talented florist seemed like too great of a risk. What if he chose the wrong ones?
For dinner, he opted to cook a barbecue, because frankly, it was the only thing he trusted himself not to screw up. Richie and Dan watched with interest and what seemed like a healthy portion of judgment. The bloody cats were always looking down their noses at him. And yet he tossed them each a treat and petted them as they twined around his legs. They were a damn nuisance, but a man couldn’t deny they were cute.
As she knocked on the door of Justin’s charming timber house, which was set back from the highway heading out of Itirangi, amongst the trees, Emily rethought her outfit for the umpteenth time. She hadn’t gone on a date she really cared about in years and her nerves made her question everything. If they were going to a restaurant, she’d have an idea of what dress code was appropriate, but at Justin’s home, she had no baseline knowledge to guide her decision. She wanted to knock him off his feet, but he was a low-key guy, and if she overdid it, he might think her too high maintenance. On the flipside, if she dressed down, she risked losing his interest, so she’d settled for a mint green dress with strappy black sandals and a swipe of lip gloss and mascara. Feminine, but understated.
Unsure of the correct etiquette, she had umm-ed and aah-ed over whether to bring anything. She’d considered wine, but Justin didn’t strike her as a wine guy. She thought about buying dessert from the bakehouse but didn’t know what his tastes ran to. In the end, she’d purchased a small box of chocolate pralines from her friend Kayla’s artisan chocolate shop. No one could say no to Kayla’s chocolates. They were made with love.
When the door swung inward, Justin greeted her with a kiss on the cheek and Emily’s jaw dropped. In half a day, he’d undergone quite a transformation. His hair had been trimmed and his scruffy beard tamed until it looked less caveman, more Jason Momoa. Hot as hell.
Her gaze tracked down his body, noting dark jeans and a short-sleeved button-down shirt. It seemed he had gone all-out. She hadn’t seen him look so put together since Chloe left him. A warm glow grew within her. He’d made a special effort. Even at the wedding yesterday he’d been scruffy, but he’d tidied up for her.
“You trimmed your beard,” she said. He nodded, touching it self-consciously. “And you’re wearing a nice shirt.”
He cleared his throat. “I am.”
She smiled. “You look good.”
“So do you. Like always. Come in.”
She followed him into the living room, which featured a sofa, an armchair, and a coffee table, all in shades of brown. The bare walls were painted cream and the carpet was gray. A TV was affixed to the wall facing the sofa. Very utilitarian. Missing splashes of color. A woman’s touch. If she lived here, she’d frame photos and hang them on the walls, complement them with a painting, and add colored throws, mats, and cushions to bring some life to the place. A person’s surroundings affected their mood, and Justin’s home needed some brightness.
Don’t get ahead of yourself.
At the moment, his furnishings were none of her business. There might come a time when they were, but she needed to slow down. A black cat lay curled on the armchair and a fluffy tabby butted his head against her leg. She bent to pat him.
“That’s Dan,” Justin told her. “The one on the couch is Richie. They’re a nuisance, but they’re decent ratters, so I keep them around.”
“Unique names for cats,” she remarked, scratching Dan behind his ear, pleased when he purred in response.
“Named for Carter and McCaw,” Justin explained.
“Of course.” He’d named his cats after legendary rugby players. She wouldn’t expect anything less from a rabid All Blacks fan. “Cute.”
He glanced at the cats. “I wouldn’t know. I only care how many rats they kill.”
But the way he picked up Richie and draped him over his shoulder before opening the French door on the far side of the living room made a liar of him. Emily hid a smile. The fact he didn’t want her to know what a softie he was only made him more adorable. He could speak in a gruff voice and deny it all he wanted, but a man who wore his cat as a scarf loved that cat to bits.
“Out here,” he said, gesturing for her to join him. When she did, she heard sizzling and followed her nose to the barbecue on his lawn, situated beside a picnic table upon which three candles were burning.
“What’s on the barbie?” she asked.
“Mushrooms and onions so far, but we’re having steak, too. That okay?”
“Steak is great.”
He put the cat down and added two steaks to the grill. “How would you like it done?”
“Medium is good, thanks.”
Sitting at the picnic table, Emily crossed her ankles. The fresh scent of earth and trees hung in the air, woodsy and relaxing. The backyard was an oasis of lawn amongst the forest, with no gardens or paths. Simple and masculine, much like the interior of the house. Birds called in trees, out of sight. Despite the hour, it was still daylight. She tilted her head back to look at the blue sky. A cloud floated across her vision.
“What a beautiful place to live,” she said. “I’m quite jealous.”
Justin checked the mushrooms and onions. The aroma made her salivate.
“You live in town, don’t you?” he asked.
“Yeah. A few houses down from Aria.”
Emily’s place was nice, but she’d always intended it to be temporary. A stopgap until she found somewhere she liked better. Then she’d gotten busy with work and finding a permanent home had slipped down her to-do list.
Justin flipped the steaks then went inside and came back with two bowls of salad: potato and lettuce.
Emily laughed delightedly. “You’ve got the barbecue meal down to an art.”
“It’s the one form of cooking I’ve mastered,” he replied, eyes crinkling at the corners. “So don’t expect too much from me on the second date.”
She liked the lines around his eyes and the faint brackets around his mouth. They showed he smiled often—or at least, he had at some point in time. They also showed that he was a man, not a boy. He’d lived enough to know who he was and what he wanted. And apparently, he wanted her. Enough for a second date, at least.
“How about I cook next time?” she suggested.
His eyes widened, as if she’d surprised him. “I’d like that. It’s a date. Provided you want to see me again after tonight,” he added wryly as he loaded steak, mushrooms and onions onto plates and carried them to the table, sitting opposite her.
“Justin,” she said dryly, “we live in a tiny town. Even if we didn’t go on another date, we’d see each other again. The perils of being in Itirangi.”
“Thanks for the reminder.”
They each dished up dinner and settled in. Justin had indeed mastered the barbecue; Emily’s steak was perfect. While they ate, they talked. Well, mostly Emily talked, but when Justin chimed in, she found herself laughing and feeling giddier than she had since high school when she’d watched him across the classroom. She wondered what could possess any woman to throw away his affection. When their cutlery clattered against empty plates, he put his weight on his elbows and leaned across the table toward her.
“I know this is when I’m supposed to play it cool,” he said, “but I really want to go on another date with you, Em. I’m not the kind of guy who plays games. I think we could have something special, and I want to see where it goes.”
Her heart thundered so loud she could hardly hear him over the sound of it.
“I’d love it if you came back tomorrow,” he continued. “Same time, same place. If you’d like to cook, I can stock the kitchen with whatever you need.”
“I…uh…” She thought she’d become immune to bluntness, but when Justin gazed into her eyes and said things like that, it challenged her sanity. What girl wouldn’t love to be the subject of his single-minded focus? “You don’t need to stock the kitchen,” she said. “I’ll bring over everything I need.”
Her cheesy pasta bake could win any man’s heart.
“So, that’s a yes?”
She lifted from the seat and closed some of the distance between them. “That’s a yes,” she confirmed.
He seized her face and kissed her, upending the bowl of potato salad. He cursed and started to pull back, but she gripped his shirt and yanked him closer.
“Ignore it,” she murmured against his mouth.
Their tongues entwined, and she didn’t care that she was awkwardly splayed across a table, or that her breath probably smelled of onions, because this was Justin kissing her. Justin, who she’d wanted forever. If she could imprint this moment on her memory, she would.
Hours later, she still tasted his kiss on her lips.