Her words were the last thing said before they both understood this “date” was over despite it only beginning. Maybe the rapport they’d built in the last hour and a half was enough to get them through the wedding events.
He shoved his hands into his pockets. “Send me the link to those questions. I’ll send you back the answers,” he said.
Retta nodded. “I’ll do the same.”
“Cool.”
They both fell silent, and this was part of a date that would include a hug, perhaps a kiss. But he kept his hands where they were and waited for her to make a move. And she did, toward her car.
“See you later,” she said.
And as he sat in his vehicle, he kept thinking how he’d been having fun while accomplishing the goal of getting to know her. She was still parked, and it was far from late.
“Screw it,” he said to himself before opening his truck door.
Retta entered her car and took a full breath for the first time since the day had started. The malfunctioning bowling lanes had been her unintentional savior. This date should’ve been less stressful than a real one. She literally didn’t have to be pretty, impressive, or even likable.
However, she’d been having fun. The sort of fun you’d overanalyze with friends afterward.
She’d thought they’d been flirting.
“You wanna play dirty, huh?”
But all this musing was particularly mortifying because this was the most enjoyable date she’d been on in a while, and it had to be fake. Shaking her head, she placed her keys in the ignition. A sharp knock sounded on the driver’s side window before she could pull out.
Retta found Duncan standing there and was too thrown to think of what he might want as she rolled down the window.
“Do you have anywhere to be right now?” he asked.
“Ah, why?”
He rubbed the back of his neck and looked out to the road her car faced. “Well, our date was cut short, I’m starving, and the fair is in town. So, I was thinking if you have no place to be, we can head over there for an hour or two.”
Despite the fair being her scene, Retta felt compelled to reject the invitation. Hadn’t she told herself moments earlier that their limited interaction was enough?
Say no.
“Sure.”
ChapterSeven
After realizingpublic transportation would be their best option, Duncan and Retta dropped off their vehicles at their respective apartments and met each other at the fair. As they stood in the admittance line, Duncan watched as she barely made eye contact with him and swept her gaze across the crowd every so often. She might be nervous they’d bump into someone she knew, but he feared she’d chew her bottom lip off if he didn’t distract her.
“You said you wanted to be an artist growing up,” Duncan said as they took a few steps forward in the progressing queue. “What kind?”
Retta stopped scanning the area to look at him. “A painter. I was going to get my Bachelor of Fine Arts and everything.”
“So, how did baking come in?” he asked, pleased to see her shoulders relax and faint smile lines appear.
“I was generally artistic and liked working with my hands. But baking wasn’t something I even thought about until the summer before I was supposed to start college. I went to this French bakery in Seattle.” Retta paused, looking at Duncan. “I know it sounds silly, but I sorta had this out of body experience when I tasted the croissants and brioche. I knew then and there that I wanted to learn to make things like that for as many people as possible.”
“Doesn’t sound silly at all,” he said as they were called up to purchase their tickets. “You followed your gut.”
Inside the fair, they found a robust crowd, food trucks, and noisy carnival rides and games. And once it was dark, Duncan knew the strung-up lights would add more beauty to the scene.
“Where do you want to start?” he asked.
“Do you want to grab something to eat?”
