Ginger's Heart (A Modern Fairytale, #3)

She didn’t know. But all of it worried her.

At seven o’clock she went to her car and grabbed her bag with her blouse and boots, then headed back into the office, locking the bathroom door and changing. She put on some mascara and lipstick, took her hair from its ponytail and brushed it out until it lay wavy and shiny on her shoulders. When she was ready, she opened the door to find Cain waiting.

“Princess,” he murmured, his eyes scorching a path from her eyes to her lips to her throat to her breasts to her boots and back up again. “You look . . . beautiful.”

“Thanks,” she said, smiling at him. Tucked under his arm she saw a rolled-up pair of jeans. “Looks like we had the same idea.”

“Give me a minute or two to change?” he asked.

She nodded. “I’ll shut down the computers and forward the phones to voice mail. Meet you in the showroom?”

“Sounds good,” he said, unmoving, his dimples deep and sweet.

Her heart fluttered wildly as he approached the bathroom, closer and closer, until his hip nudged hers. He leaned down and whispered in her ear, “You look beautiful, princess, but you also look fuckin’ hot.”

She didn’t know how, but she kept herself from whimpering aloud as he edged past her and closed the bathroom door. Her skin tingled and her heart hammered, and she knew that, if she looked in a mirror, her eyes would be as wide and black as a midnight sky.

“Gin,” he called from the bathroom. “You still frozen in place?”

Her lips parted in surprise, and as quietly as possible, she tiptoed to the desk. Cocky so-and-so.

“Did you say somethin’?” she called.

She heard him chuckle, a low rumble that made her cheeks flush as she programmed the phone to go to voice mail and shut down the two laptops.

“You’re a bad liar,” he said.

“I have no idea what you’re talkin’ about,” she said, putting her hands on her hips and sticking her tongue out at the bathroom door.

He laughed again, and this time she couldn’t help herself—she laughed right along with him. The sound of Cain happy was too infectious to ignore.

He spoke through the bathroom door again. “So I thought I’d drive your car back up to Apple Valley tonight and we’ll get some dinner, and when I take you home, I can stay over at my pop’s.”

Huh. He’d put some thought into this. And she found herself strangely touched that Cain had come up with a plan. She knew he was telling the truth when he said that dating was new for him. He’d screwed around plenty in high school, but she never remembered him having a steady girlfriend. And Woodman had never mentioned him having a girlfriend while he was in the Navy. She wouldn’t lay bets on him never having gone out on a proper date in the whole of his life, but she knew it wasn’t commonplace for Cain, which made his efforts for Ginger all the sweeter.

That said, she was absolutely, positively not ready to go out on a date in Apple Valley with Cain Wolfram.

“Umm,” she said. “How about maybe we stay down here in Versailles?”

Silence. Water running for a good thirty seconds. More silence.

“Cain?”

“Why don’t you want to go to Apple Valley?”

She winced. “Woodman and I lived there, Cain. It was, you know, our home. How would it look if—”

The bathroom door swung open, and Cain appeared in the doorway, his eyes black, his gaze hard. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with me?”

“What?” she gasped. “What are you—no! No, not at all!”

He grabbed a towel from beside the sink and wiped away the remaining white foam on his freshly shaved jaw. He’d changed from his coveralls to jeans and a white button-down shirt, and he looked so handsome, she wasn’t able to totally squelch her little moan of pleasure this time. But maybe that was a good thing because Cain noticed, and it softened his thunderous expression.

His voice was warmer when he said, “Gin, talk to me. Tell me what’s goin’ on in your head, baby.”

“I don’t want to be the source of gossip,” she said, leaning back against the desk and crossing her arms over her chest. “No. It’s more than that. I don’t want to . . .” She gulped. “I don’t want to dishonor Woodman’s memory by steppin’ out with his cousin just three months after his passin’.”

Cain’s chest expanded as he took a deep breath, still staring at her, measuring her words. Finally he nodded slowly. “Okay. But if you don’t want to go out with me, why’d you say yes to the date?”

She took a deep breath, hearing the words in her head and gathering the courage to say them aloud.

“I do want to go out with you. It doesn’t feel wrong to spend time with you,” she said softly, holding his eyes.

He flinched slightly, then softened, throwing the towel back into the bathroom and taking a step toward her.