27 Dates: Spring Boxed Set: Vol. 1-7 Read online

  “I did.”

  He raised an eyebrow. “You actually slapped an old man?”

  She flushed. “It was a reflex. I didn’t hit him that hard.”

  “It doesn’t look like he learned his lesson,” he said, smothering a laugh as he saw Charles drift his hand down.

  Kate grinned and motioned to the others. “Mrs. Wilson is the one in black and red. She taught me footwork. She smells like peaches, which she cans for sale at the farmer’s market.”

  “There’s a farmer’s market?”

  “On Seventh,” she replied. “And the peaches are fantastic.” She pointed to another couple. “Mary was my favorite. She witnessed me slapping Charles.”

  “What did she say?”

  Kate grinned, her eyes sparkling at the memory. “Charles protested, but Mary said it served him right, that even children know to keep their hands to themselves.”

  “You braved handsy old men and peaches to prepare a date for me?”

  “Has a girl asked you before?”

  Reed shook his head. “Never. Once they learned what I did, they always wanted me to take them out.”

  Her expression was pleased, and he realized she’d wanted to be the first. She’d been conveying a confident air since his arrival, but now he spotted an undercurrent of nervousness in her expression. To ask him on a date—and attempt to best him—was a leap outside her comfort zone.

  “You’re setting the bar pretty high,” he said.

  She turned to him and raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never put this much into a date before,” she admitted. “It’s more difficult than I thought—but also tremendous fun.”

  “Why?”

  She considered his question. “Your expression when you walked in the door, of excitement and awe, was worth every moment.”

  “That’s my favorite part,” he said, “seeing a date realize how much fun the night is going to be, the surprise and excitement.” He paused for a moment. “So, you spent two weeks practicing dancing,” he said. “What else did you do?”

  Her eyes narrowed. “You really expect me to tell you the rest of the date?”

  Caught, he grinned. “It was worth a shot.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by a diminutive couple that stopped for a drink. Kate grabbed Reed and pulled him onto the dance floor, pretending not to hear as the hunched man began to speak.

  “Did I tell you about my . . .”

  As they stepped onto the dance floor she leaned over to him. “That was Mr. Barris,” she said, her tone conspiratorial. “He will not stop talking. And once he gets going, he always finds a way to talk about his prostate cancer.”

  Reed snorted a laugh. “Really?”

  She held his gaze. “In detail.”

  He laughed and pulled her to an open area, spinning her into a twist that brought them onto the beat. Laughing, she followed his lead into a different style of swing. For the next several minutes they danced to music from a different age, but he found his thoughts drifting to their previous date.

  Kate had been reserved and suspicious, but over the course of the night she’d gradually opened up, revealing hints of an adventurous spirit. He wondered how much had been suppressed by her relationship with Jason. Or was it their breakup?

  She, too, observed him, and it wasn’t until fatigue drove them from the dance floor that he realized why. She was attracted to him, that much was obvious, but she was also hesitant to pursue him. Asking him on a date presented a game, a distraction from her life following her breakup with Jason. But did she want more from him?

  Or was he just a distraction?

  Chapter 3

  “Don’t miss another chance to kiss her,” Mr. Barris called out as they left.

  “Thanks, Mr. Barris,” Reed said, grinning and waving at the man.

  They stepped into the night and Reed breathed deep of the cold air, relishing it after the heat of the dance hall. She held her jacket in her hands, shivering as the night breeze pulled at her dress.

  “Well?” she asked.

  “Like I said,” he replied, “you’re setting the bar pretty high.”

  “Good,” she said, flashing a smug smile. “You ready for what’s next?”

  “You know, I’ve never been on the receiving end of a date before,” he said. “And the curiosity is killing me.”

  “Perfect,” she said with a mischievous smile. “Why don’t we take my car and we’ll come back for yours later.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  Her car proved to be a newer model Toyota, and was much cleaner than his. She all but giggled as she held the door for him, her action prompting a woman at the door to shout out to them.

  “That’s not how it’s done!”

  “I know, Mrs. Agnus,” she called.

  The leather seats were freezing on his back and he shivered. She donned her jacket as she came around the car and slipped into her seat, turning the heat on as they pulled out of the parking lot.

  “I can’t believe you remembered their names,” Reed said.

  “What do you mean?” she asked.

  “You could have just showed up and learned to dance, but you took the time to remember their names.”

  “They reminded me of my grandparents,” she replied. “My grandfather was a veteran and one of the smartest men I’ve ever known.”

  “When did he die?” he asked, hearing the regret in her tone.

  “Two years ago,” she said. “He and my nana actually taught me to dance when I was in high school. Now she lives with my father outside of Phoenix.”

  “My grandfather lives in a retirement home in Florida,” he said. “But he acts like a kid in college. He goes on as many dates as I do, but with walkers and wheelchairs.”

  She laughed and turned into the parking lot of a Walmart. He raised an eyebrow at the location but she merely smiled and pulled into a spot close to the door. She warned him to stay in his seat and came around to open the door for him, an act which made him grateful for the warmth in the car.

  It was after 10:00 and the store was quiet, but she led him to the cookie aisle. Then she withdrew a strip of cloth and tied it around his head, blocking his vision. He grinned as he realized her intent.

  “Am I supposed to pick one without knowing what it is?”

  He heard the smile in her voice. “My brothers used to argue for hours over what treat to buy, so my parents decided to cover our eyes and give us ten seconds or we got nothing. I didn’t always like the treat, but it was always an adventure.”

  “So I’m just supposed to reach out and choose one?”

  “Not yet,” she said.

  She caught his arm and began to turn him, while moving him up and down the aisle with the spin. When he started to get dizzy he protested and she released him. He’d marked the location of the Oreos before the blindfold, but now had no idea.

  “First one you touch is our treat,” she said.

  “I don’t like how good you are at this,” he said.

  She laughed, the sound grateful and delighted. “Ten, nine, eight . . .”

  He shifted his feet forward, reluctant to trip and fall into the shelves. Reaching out, he moved his hand up and down, left and right, until realizing it really didn’t matter. He reached out and fumbled for a package. As he pulled back the blindfold he found mint fudge cookies in his hand.

  “Hope you like mint,” he said. “But I supposed you put mints into your hot chocolate.”

  “Good memory,” she said, obviously pleased. “Now for the drink.”

  At his insistence, she donned the blindfold and picked their drink, which turned out to be orange soda. Then they finished at the cracker aisle, this time ending up with vinegar and sea salt potato chips. As they walked to the front of the store they laughed about their selection, and the strange looks they got from the store worker that rang them up.

  “You really are clever at this,” he said as they exited the store. “Did you do anything like this for ot
her guys?”

  She cocked her head to the side, her smile fading. Confused by her sudden shift in mood, he considered the response. Then she realized her thoughts had turned to Jason and tried to smooth the moment with a laugh.

  “You’d better be careful,” he said. “Or someone might fall for you.”

  She smiled at that, but it was a little forced. “You never said how many have fallen for you.”

  “Five have said the word love,” he replied. “But I think more would have said it. You have to be careful when you use this superpower.”

  She snorted, the shadow in her eyes disappearing. “Is that what dating is, a superpower?”

  He swept his hands at the dark parking lot. “What else would it be? You have the power to make someone else happy, to bring a smile to their face, a moment of joy in their overworked life.”

  “It sounds like a superpower when you put it that way,” she said. “But if dating makes others happy, what makes you happy?”

  “Isn’t it obvious?” he asked. “Seeing a girl smile.”

  She grunted her doubt. “I suspect there is something more you want. You may have been honest with me, but you haven’t revealed everything.”

  They were back in the car driving south, headed towards campus. His smile faded as he thought of her question. He’d thought he understood her, but she kept surprising him. Most of his dates were content to enjoy his efforts, and very few had wanted to know him.

  “Dating is just . . . fun,” he said with a shrug.

  “Dating is drama,” she corrected.

  He laughed. “I don’t think it has to be, not if you do it right.”

  “So I’ve been doing it wrong?” she asked, her smile making it clear she wasn’t offended.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t mean to sound pretentious.”

  “You don’t,” she said. “But now you’ve got me curious.”

  He considered his next words, not wanting to say something else that sounded arrogant. “Perhaps it’s not whether you are dating the right way or the wrong way, it’s a question of purpose.”

  “And your purpose is fun.”

  “Exactly,” he said.

  “Most men date for sex,” she said pointedly. “Or they don’t date at all—but they still want the sex.”

  “That’s a pretty sad purpose,” he said.

  She grinned. “It’s not much better than women. Do you know why they date a guy?”

  “Depends on the guy,” he said. “Looks, money, pity.”

  “Pity dates don’t count.”

  He laughed. “I had my share of those in high school.”

  “So you don’t know what girls want?”

  “I didn’t say that,” he replied. “I just don’t want to sound pretentious again.”

  “I promise I won’t think that,” she said.

  They exchanged an amused look, and he noticed her relaxed posture, her smile still a shade tentative. She was enjoying herself, but still held herself in reserve. He wondered if she’d asked him on a date because she considered him safe.

  “Women want to matter,” he said. “They want the guy to take them on a date and pay attention to them, think of them, to care.”

  “So it’s the thought that counts?”

  “Maybe,” he said. “When I picked you up for our last date, I pretended I had no plans. What did you think?”

  Her lips twitched in amusement. “I thought less of you.”

  “And what did you think when you realized I had actually planned a date.”

  She smiled. “That you were suddenly more attractive.”

  He gestured to her as if her comment made his point. “It’s not the thought. It’s how much thought.”

  “Do guys appreciate it as well?”

  “Depends on the guy,” he said. He realized they were headed towards the stadium. “Where exactly are we going?”

  “You didn’t tell me where we were going last time,” she said. “So I’m following your rules.”

  “But why the stadium?”

  “Does the professional dater not like being left in the dark?”

  He grinned and shrugged. “Bring on the adventure.”

  Chapter 4

  The stadium was located on a hill at the edge of campus. In the fall the parking lot filled with students, alumni, and crazed fans, and the scent of beer, grilled hot dogs, and processed nacho cheese filled the air. Although not a huge fan of football, Reed frequently went with Jackson and Shelby, who were the type to paint their faces and bodies in support of the team.

  “Do you like football?” he asked as they pulled into the lot.

  “I don’t hate it,” she said. “But I haven’t enjoyed watching lately.”

  He heard the tone in her voice and raised an eyebrow. “Jason?”

  She gave a sour expression. “I was hoping to make it through the night without talking about him.”

  Reed shrugged. “If you want to talk . . .”

  “Not tonight,” she said.

  The look carried a trace of pleading, and he realized she really didn’t want to discuss him. He acquiesced with a nod and she smiled her gratitude. Then she turned off the car and came around to open his door. Together, they walked to a side entrance of the stadium, where she regained a measure of her previous amusement.

  “Can you climb?” she asked, motioning to the fence.

  He hesitated, uneasy at the prospect of breaking into the school stadium. “I don’t usually ask my dates to break laws when I take them out. Getting arrested is a real downer.”

  “Kidding,” she said, and produced a key from her pocket. She unlocked the door and led them inside.

  “How’d you get a key to the stadium?” he asked.

  “You aren’t the only one with connections.”

  Her smile flashed in the dim light as they crossed the room to another door, which led beneath the bleachers. Their footsteps echoed eerily off the stone and steel structure, the darkness adding to the sense of solitude.

  “You’re enjoying this entirely too much,” he said.

  “Being on this side is more fun than I thought,” she admitted.

  “I hope I didn’t sound this condescending.”

  She burst into a laugh, the sound reverberating off the underside of the bleachers. “Planning the date was almost as much fun as the date itself.”

  “How much time did it take you?” he asked.

  “Aside from the dancing, we spent most of last week hatching the rest of the plan,” she said. “And the blondes proved adept at tactics.”

  “You make it sound like they’re super villains.”

  “They are,” she said fervently.

  She led the way out from under the bleachers and onto the field, striding all the way to the fifty-yard line. Alone in the dark stadium, the moon and stars bathed them in soft light, illuminating a pile of blankets placed at the center of the field.

  He pretended shock. “Just what do you expect out of the evening, my dear lady?”

  “I want your cookies,” she said, and took the sack from him with a laugh.

  They settled onto the blanket and wrapped themselves against the chill. It was warm for early March, which meant the snow had melted, but it was still freezing. Wrapped in two quilts, Reed enjoyed the bite of the wind on his face.

  She opened their treat and sampled the rather strange combination of mint fudge, vinegar chips, and orange soda. The starlight and stadium were a recipe for romance, and Reed stole surreptitious looks at his beautiful companion.

  “There’s one thing you didn’t say that girls think about on a date,” Kate asked.

  “What’s that?”

  They were both on their backs, staring at the sky as it gradually rotated above. The stadium blocked the lights of Boulder, making the stars shine like crystals on dark velvet. He felt the desire to touch her hand, so he kept his fingers intertwined on his chest, safely beneath the blanket.

  “Marriage.”
<
br />   “The big M,” he said with a nod. “Do all women think about it?”

  “Many,” she said. “But not all.”

  “Do you even know what you want in a husband?” he asked.

  “Do you know what you want in a wife?” she countered.

  “Some of it,” he replied. “I know I want her to have a sense of adventure, because life can be pretty dull without it.”

  “True,” she said. “I want a guy who isn’t afraid.”

  “Afraid?” he asked.

  He rolled onto his side to see her and she did the same. “Guys act all tough, like nothing can scare them.” she snorted in scorn. “But they’re all terrified of the future.”

  “Like spaceships and science fiction?”

  She grinned. “You know what I mean. Men are afraid of marriage, babies, fatherhood, changing diapers, growing old, and everything in between.”

  “You certainly know a great deal about us,” he said.

  “Most of the guys I’ve ever dated had zero interest in the future,” she replied. “They were all afraid.”

  The shade of regret to her eyes suggested she was thinking of Jason, who’d proposed just a year ago. But if he’d proposed, what had he been afraid of? Reed thought he’d understood the story, but now realized there was more she’d left unsaid.

  “And you’re not afraid?” he asked.

  “If I didn’t care where I was going, it wouldn’t matter what I do in the present.”

  “Are you quoting Alice in Wonderland?”

  She smiled. “Doesn’t mean it’s not true.”

  “It’s certainly true,” he replied. “And so is your analysis of the average male psyche.”

  “Can you explain it to me?” she asked.

  He smiled. “As an average male you would think I could explain the male mind—but sadly I cannot. Maybe it’s the culture or maybe it’s their parents.”

  “So how do I find a good one—oh master Yoda.”

  He laughed and reclined onto the blanket. “Same way I hope to find a good one. Keep dating until I find her.”

  She snorted. “That’s easy for you to say. You get to do the asking.”

  “You can ask as easily as I can,” he said, “and it appears you do quite well.” Unwilling to pull his arms free of the blankets, he used his chin to point to the stadium.