“I just realized that this is going to be a problem for me.”
“Not sorry,” I call back.
Not sorry at all.
CHAPTER 11
MIA
I haven’t seen David in four days, but we’ve texted every day since Friday night. And I’m having a really good time.
Like yesterday when I sent him a video of people launching dirt bikes off high ramps and flipping them in the air. I added the message, I want to learn to do this.
His response had been a simple, absolutely not.
I’ve been expecting that. His protective streak is wide and deep.
But then he’d followed it up with, I like you in one piece.
I have a feeling for David Bennett that’s pretty flirtatious. Especially considering he doesn’t really want to be flirting with me in the first place. Or at least he is still telling himself it’s a bad idea.
It’s just after lunch on Wednesday, and I’m sitting at the front desk of the library, grinning as I text him a photo of a gorgeous woman in very short denim shorts and a crop top leaning against a dirt bike. I follow it with the message, this is what I’ll be wearing Friday.
His response is almost immediate. There are no words. He just sends me a photo of all the protective gear I need to have for dirt bike riding and links to where to buy.
I laugh. That is far more gear than I could possibly need.
I text back. I have no time to get all of that before Friday.
Don’t worry, I have you covered. Literally. Covered head to toe.
I am giggling but note the front door of the library opening. Dang, I have to get back to work. I tuck my phone in my back pocket and look up. Then straighten. Jack Bennett is striding toward the front desk. He has a serious look on his face.
“Hey, Jack.”
“Hi, Mia.”
“Can I help you with anything?"
“I hope so. I need some…resources.”
I smile. “Well, you came to the right place.”
He sighs. “Is there anything like librarian and client confidentiality?"
My brows arch. “There can be. What do you need help with exactly?"
“Chelsea’s birthday is coming up. I want to throw her a really great party. But I have no idea where to start.”
Chelsea is Jack’s oldest daughter.
I smile. “You need ideas for a little girl’s birthday party?”
“Well, I have an idea for it. I just don’t know how to pull the idea off.”
“Okay. How old is she going to be?"
I have only a general idea of how old Jack’s girls are. Chelsea, named after Jack and David’s mom, is middle-school-age-ish.
