He stared at her admiringly, his gaze sweeping up and down her body, before settling on her face. His lips spread in a slow smile.
He was wearing a linen jacket, khakis and a button down blue shirt, which somehow fit his huge frame and flattered it. And he was holding a bouquet of pink flowers with baby’s breath, which he handed to her. Flowers! He’d brought flowers! No-one ever had brought her flowers on a date before.
Still, he had stood her up the other morning. She tried her best to scowl.
“Good evening, Coral, you’re looking lovely,” he said.
“Thank you. You don’t look terrible yourself,” she said. She would not gush, she vowed. “Let me just put these in some water.”
She quickly found a vase for the flowers and stuck them in cold water, while Flint waited for her in the living room. She wanted to dump some of that water on her head to cool herself down. Every time Flint got near her, she felt hot and flushed. She’d forgotten how thin the fabric of this dress was, which meant that the swollen buds of her nipples would be clearly outlined.
She crossed her arms over her chest, mortified, as they walked out to his car.
“Are you chilly? Here, take my jacket,” he said, and draped the jacket around her shoulders.
Oh, great. He was really turning on the charm tonight. How the heck was she supposed to resist him?
But on the bright side, if she wore the jacket it would hide her erect nipples.
He took her to a small country restaurant called Pop’s Place, which was as fancy as Blue Moon Junction got. Coral actually liked more casual restaurants. From what she’d noticed in New York, the fancier the restaurant, the tinier the portions they served and the skinnier all the other diners were. She’d suffered through more than enough dates at trendy New York restaurants staring hungrily at her partner’s plate, wondering if he was going to finish that.
Give me a good, family-style restaurant any time, she thought.
Flint held the car door open for her, and then held the restaurant door open for her, and even pulled out the chair at her table for her to sit down.
They sat at a round table with a white plastic table cloth. A red candle flickered in a glass cylinder, and country music played over tinny speakers
“I thought about cooking you dinner at my house,” Flint said. “But then I thought that might be presumptuous for a first date.”
A first date? Coral couldn’t hide her look of surprise. He actually planned to take her out on more dates?
“That is, if I manage to charm the living daylights out of you and you agree to a second date,” he added with a grin. “How am I doing so far?”
Coral held up her hand. “Stop right there,” she said. “You are sending out extremely mixed messages. You were a rude jerk the first time I met you. Then you stood me up for breakfast. Now you’re being Mister Charm. What gives? There were women practically hurling themselves at you like heat seeking missiles back there at the auction. I know you’re not exactly hurting for female companionship.”
Flint’s grin stretched wider. “You’re very direct. I like that.”
Coral shrugged. “It’s a New York thing. We don’t sugarcoat things like you Southerners do.”
“Fair enough. I’m sending mixed messages because I’m here trying to concentrate on work and finish up a project in a timely fashion so I can get back to Seattle, and I wasn’t planning on any distractions. But ever since I met you, I can’t even think straight.”
He reached out and took her hand in his, and closed his hand around it. A wave of heat splashed over her, and she fought to keep from sucking in her breath. “And I know you feel it too.”
“I beg your pardon?” her voice came out in a squeak. Were her palms sweaty? His hands were so big. Was there a correlation between hand size and…no, she scolded herself. Stop thinking like that.
“I find you very attractive, and I wish I didn’t. Wow, that came out more honest than I meant it to. Okay, here’s the thing. First of all, you’re a reporter, and I guess I’ve just got a natural wariness of reporters. I like my privacy, I don’t like having people snoop through my affairs. Why are you looking at me like that?”
Coral shot him a skeptical look. “Hmm. So you have a guilty conscience, and something to hide.”
He threw up his hands in exasperation. “See? Typical reporter! Always looking for the worst-case scenario! Anyway, as I was saying…the other reason I’m trying to resist being attracted to you is because I’m not going to be in town for that long. On the other hand, I can’t stop thinking about you, and it’s making it hard for me to concentrate on work.”
“It is?” Coral was absurdly pleased to hear that.