I shifted uncomfortably on my feet, trying to hide my obvious reaction to her outfit.
“Ready?” Damn. I cleared my throat, that single word sounding husky even to me.
A smile lit up her face. “Not sure people will believe we’re on a date if you’re glowering at me the whole time.”
“I glower at everyone. People annoy me.”
She rolled her eyes and stepped out on the landing, pulling her door shut behind her.
Turning to the side, I waved down the sidewalk, getting in step next to her. I itched to reach out and place my hand on the small of her back, but I shoved my hand in my pocket instead. This wasn’t a real date.
Once we reached the car, I opened the passenger side door and she brushed past me, her sweet floral and honey scent floating up and invading my senses. I couldn’t stop myself from zeroing in on her thighs as she sat in the seat, her skirt riding up. I swallowed as I followed a path up her body, pausing at her cleavage that, at this angle, was even more pronounced. She shifted as she put her seatbelt on and I yanked my gaze away.
I really needed to pull my shit together and not ogle her every chance I had. I shut the door, making my way around to the driver’s side.
“What are you doing?” I asked as I pulled the car away from the curb.
She held a cord for her phone in her hand and plugged it into my car. “Putting on decent music.”
Billie Eilish began playing through the speakers. Interesting choice, although I didn’t hate it.
“What was wrong with my music?”
“It’s depressing.”
“Depressing? It’s country.”
“Yeah. Some of it’s okay. But mostly sad. Someone is always grieving something.”
“Billie Eilish isn’t much better.”
“Ehh.” She shrugged. “I only put her uplifting songs on my playlists. Same with Adona.”
“Who else do you like?” Now I was curious. I just assumed by her dark look she would be heavily into true goth music or heavy metal.
She spit out the names of ten more artists. Some I didn’t recognize, but the mix she mentioned seemed to be mostly pop and punk rock.
“What about you? Are you strictly a country boy?”
“I’ll listen to just about anything.” I ran my hand over my head, brushing back the long lock of hair that fell in front of my face. “Classical is probably my go-to. I enjoy listening to just the instruments.”
She chuckled. “You’re an enigma, Mountain Man.”
I ignored the nickname and cocked a brow. “How so?”
“From the bear hug you gave me yesterday to classical music, you keep surprising me.”
“I could say the same for you,” I muttered with a shake of my head. From the outside, she looked dark and scary. But in reality, she smelled like sunflowers, was afraid of heights, and baked cookies.
“I like to keep people on their toes.” After a few minutes of silence, during which she gently rocked her head side to side along with a song I definitely didn’t recognize, she asked, “So where are we going?”
“The Dock.”
“Smart move.”
I smiled. It was a calculated move. I figured dinner time on a Friday evening at the town’s most popular restaurant was the best guarantee news would get around quickly.
What I hadn’t considered was how well-loved Violet was in town. By the time we were seated at our table, at least five people had stopped and talked to us. Some shot us knowing smirks, while a few seemed surprised to see us out together. Regardless, my plan was working.
