Trust in Me

“My parents . . . are traveling, so I’m staying here.” Her gaze flicked away. “Do your parents do the big Thanksgiving dinner?”


“Yeah,” I said, distracted.

As the check arrived and we headed out into the chilly night air, I dropped an arm over her shoulder, tucking her close as we walked across the dark parking lot. She didn’t resist, instead staying pressed to my side.

“Did you have a good dinner?” I asked once inside the truck, smacking my hands together and rubbing them.

“Yes. And thank you for the food. I mean, dinner. Thank you.” She closed her eyes and even though it was too dark for me to see, I knew she blushed. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” I grinned. “Thank you for finally agreeing to let me take you out.”

She sent me a tentative smile, and a comforting silence fell between us, which was good. My thoughts kept going back to the fact she wasn’t doing anything for Thanksgiving. It seemed wrong and lonely and about a hundred other things to spend a holiday alone. An idea formed in my head, one I doubted Avery would go for, but I had to try.

When we got back to University Heights, we stopped in front of her door and the most awkward moment in any date was about to occur. Part of me couldn’t wait to see how she handled this.

Shortcake turned to me, gaze fixed on my chest as she fiddled with the strap on her purse.

“So . . .” I drew the word out, silently praying that she didn’t say good-bye.

“Would you like to come in?” she asked, and I did an internal fist bump. “For something to drink? I have coffee or hot chocolate. I don’t have any beer or anything more—”

“Hot chocolate would be good.” Tap water would be good enough. “Only if you have the kind with those tiny marshmallows.”

Shortcake’s wide smile did something funny to my chest. “I do.”

“Then lead the way, sweetheart.”

While she headed into the kitchen, I went into the living room. She joined me on the couch with two cups of hot chocolate. She’d kicked off her boots and tucked her feet under her. I decided there was no one cuter than her. Ever.

“Thank you.” I took one, watching the steam billow from the top. “Got a question for you.”

“Okay.”

Little marshmallows nudged my lips as I took a sip. “So, based on your first-date experience, would you go out on a second?”

She smiled lightly. “Like a second in general?”

“In general.”

“Well, this was a very good first date. If second dates were like this, then I guess I would.”

“Hmm.” I watched her closely. “With just anyone or . . . ?”

Her lashes lowered. “Not with just anyone.”

“So it would have to be someone in particular?” I asked.

“I think it would have to be.”

“Interesting.” When she lifted her gaze to mine, her eyes were soft and endless. “Is this someone in particular going to have to wait another two months if they ask you out?”

Her grin formed around the rim of her mug. “Depends.”

“On?”

“My mood.”

I laughed. “Get ready.”

“Okay.”

“I’m going to ask you out again—not dinner, because I like to change things up. It’s to the movies.”

She tapped a finger off her cheek. “Movies?”

“But it’s a drive-in movie, one of the last ones around.”

“Outside?” Excitement glimmered in her eyes.

“Yep. Don’t worry. I’d keep you warm.”

She shook her head, grinning. “Okay.”

“Okay to the movies?”

Sucking her bottom lip in between her teeth, she nodded.

Wait. What? It would be that easy? “Seriously, it isn’t going to take me another two months?”

She shook her head no.

I laughed under my breath, knowing the hard part waited. “Okay. How about Wednesday?”

“Next Wednesday?” she asked.

“Nope.”

She settled against the couch. “The following Wednesday?”

“Yep.”

Her brown eyes pinched into a frown. “Wait. That’s the Wednesday before Thanksgiving.”

“It is.”

“Cam, aren’t you going home?”

“I am.”

“When?” she asked. “After the movies, in the middle of the night, or Thanksgiving morning?”

“See, the drive-in movie theater is just outside of my hometown. About ten miles out.”

Avery stared at me, her eyes widening. “I don’t understand.”

Drinking the rest of the hot chocolate, I set it aside and then scooted over until very little space separated us. “If you go on this date with me, you’re going to have to go home with me.”

“What?” She burst my eardrum as she sat up straight. “Go home with you?”

To keep from laughing, I pressed my lips together and nodded.

“Are you serious?”

“Serious as my pierced eardrum,” I told her. “Come home with me. We’ll have fun.”