Blind Date(15)

I laugh. "It's okay. Jacob, I'd like you to meet my slightly crazy, slightly deranged best friend Taylor."

Taylor's cheeks flush, but she keeps that award-winning smile as she walks over and extends her hand to Jacob. "Hi, Jacob. You have me to thank for meeting this wonderful catch of a woman."

Jacob laughs, shaking her hand. "Is that so?"

I flush. "Well, Taylor may have had a hand in pushing me back into the dating world."

"Well, I'm glad she did and I was lucky enough to get picked," Jacob says, winking at me.

"I like him already," Taylor beams. "I won't hold you two up, I'm sure you'd like some time alone."

"Certainly not," Jacob says. "Please stay. I'll make some coffee if you guide me to where you keep everything."

"Yes, stay." I smile to my friend, thrilled that Jacob doesn't mind hanging out with my best friend.

"Okay then," Taylor says, giving me a thumbs-up when Jacob moves into the kitchen. "Swoon," she whispers.

I look over at Jacob with a smile. "I know! He's nice, isn't he?"

"He is. And good-looking too!"

"Yeah, I like him."

She pretends to give herself a pat on the back. "I knew I'd pick one good one. I'm happy for you, Hart. You look  …  carefree tonight. For the first time in a long time, and that makes me happy."

I smile at my best friend. I might have been against her setting me up on blind dates, but I have to admit she's right. I like Jacob, and I'd like to see where it goes, but more than that, I really like living a life outside of my job and my apartment. It's been so long since I've let my hair down and gone out to have some fun. I needed it more than I thought I did.

"Yeah, thank you. I didn't realize I needed it until I started doing it," I admit.

"I'm glad, really I am." She reaches over and squeezes my arm. "You deserve it."

She's right.

Maybe I do.





SIX


One Week Later

"So, it's still going well between you and Jacob?" Taylor asks, strolling past my kitchen with a bag of muffins in her hands.

There is a little bakery just down the street that makes the most amazing muffins. Taylor regularly stops by before work and will grab us a few along with their great coffee.

"Yeah." I smile. "He's really nice. We've been out four times now, but we talk every day. I think it's going somewhere."

Taylor places the bag down, and then claps her hands. "I knew it, I knew he was a good one. I really liked him. Say thank you to your bestie. If it wasn't for me you'd still be sewing buttons on blouses."


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"Excuse me," I say, wiggling a finger in her face. "But that is my favorite blouse."

She rolls her eyes. "Yeah yeah, that's what they all say. So, tell me more-has he kissed you yet?"

"A few times," I say, beaming.

"But you haven't  …  you know?" she questions.

"No," I say quickly. "Gosh, I'm not in a hurry to go to that level. I really want to take this slow. I'm in no rush. I'm just enjoying it as it comes, without all the complications of moving it to the next level too quickly. It's nice right now. Carefree and easygoing."

"Oh I agree, and he really seems like a keeper. Did you ever hear back from any of the others?"

I frown. "Greg sent me a message once on social media-he must have looked me up-apologizing for the date. I never answered."

Taylor scrunches up her nose. "He should apologize."

A knock at my door distracts me from the conversation. I give Taylor a look, wondering who it might be, but she shrugs. I walk over, undoing the chain and pulling the door open to see Ace standing in my doorway, looking broody, and maybe a little sheepish. For a moment, I just stare at him with wide eyes. I have no idea why he's here, but I'm shocked, shocked enough to have no words until he holds up a small jug.

"I need to borrow some milk."

I blink.

Did he just say he needs to borrow  …  milk?

"You're kidding me, right?" I say, snapping out of my trance. "Is this some sort of joke?"

He looks at me like I have something wrong with me, and mutters, "No. I have guests, and I ran out of milk. Lena doesn't have any. That left you."

Oh. So he knows Lena's name, but never thought to come and get mine. Rude. Double rude.

I cock a brow, and throw a hand on my hip. "Introduced yourself to our other neighbor, did you?"

He looks up to the ceiling, as if trying to gather himself. I take the chance to look him over. Casual blue jeans, a tight-fitting gray tee, no shoes. Damn. Hot. "She brings me"-he clears his throat, looking back to me-"cookies."