He climbed the flight of stairs to her front door, rang the doorbell, and waited. He heard her voice a minute or so later through the door.
“Drew.”
She pulled the door open. Her eyes flew wide. He saw a flush moving over her cheeks. She looked a bit startled, but she smiled at him.
“What are you doing here?”
“Special delivery.” He held out the bouquet of flowers. “I have your phone too.”
She took a deep, appreciative sniff of the bouquet and said, “You didn’t have to do this.”
“I wanted to,” he said. They stared at each other for a few seconds, or an eternity. He told himself to breathe. “May I come in?”
“Oh! Oh,” she said. “Of course. Please.”
She moved back, pulling the door open enough for him to step inside. He moved over the threshold into her house. They were still staring at each other, and she licked her lips. He tried and discarded twenty things to say to her in his head. Maybe he should keep things light. He reached into his pocket, pulled out her cell phone, and handed it to her.
“I believe this belongs to you,” he joked.
Her fingertips lingered as she took the phone out of his hand. He felt the tingle all the way up his arm.
“It does. Thank you so much,” she said. The phone vibrated with an incoming call, and she shook her head a little.
“It was going off the entire time I was walking through the airport,” he said. “You’re popular.”
He glanced around her house while he attempted to come up with something dazzling to say. She liked medium blues and celery green. The somewhat formal furniture in her living room flowed into a more casual dining area, bathed in sunlight. The flowers he’d brought would look perfect in the vase on her table. She bit her lip a little, as if she didn’t know what to say. At least she hadn’t said, “Go away.”
“Nice place,” he said.
“Thank you.” She sniffed her flowers again. “I . . . I can’t believe you’re here.”
He took a step toward her and bent down to kiss her cheek. “I wanted to see you again.”
She moved closer to him and tipped her head back to look into his eyes. “Me too,” she said.
If she told him to leave, he would. He wanted a date with this woman more than he’d wanted anything else for a long time now, but he’d really rolled the dice by showing up at her house. The next few minutes were up to her: If she didn’t want him here, he’d get in the car, go back to the airport, and call her five minutes after he retired from the league.
The calm, coolly sophisticated Kendall seemed to be struggling to think of something to say at the moment, but she reached out for his hand.
“Would you like to have a glass of wine with me?”
He nodded as he clasped her smaller, softer hand in his.
KENDALL COULDN’T FIND the wine opener. She usually put it in the silverware drawer. For some reason it wasn’t there. She rifled through the drawer, looking under the silverware holder and moving the other utensils and odds and ends around to look for it. She found an unopened package of crackers in the pantry and sliced some cheese to arrange on a plate with some fresh raspberries for a snack, but the wine opener was nowhere to be found. Drew was lounging against the counter in her kitchen.
Maybe she should rephrase that. The most attractive thing in her kitchen right now had braced one hip against the counter and was watching her while she hunted around for the wine opener. A heathery pullover sweater and a pair of oft-washed jeans looked like designer fashion on him. His long blond hair was tied back with a piece of leather. His eyes were impossibly blue. He was beautiful on the outside, but she wondered what other enticements she’d find when she talked with him a little more.
“What are you looking for? Is there anything I can do to help?” he said.
“I can’t find the corkscrew. I know it was in here. I—”
He held up the corkscrew. “How’s this?” The gentle amusement in his eyes made her breath hitch.
“Y-yes. Where was it?”
“You must have left it over here before you answered the door.”
She rolled her eyes a little, and he reached out for the plate of food.
“I’ll carry that. Would you like me to grab a couple of glasses?” He pulled a few paper napkins out of the holder she kept on the kitchen counter.
“Sure.”
She picked up the now-opened wine bottle and followed him out to the small backyard. Birds were chirping. The heat of late afternoon was softened somewhat by a mild breeze. She could smell the neighbor’s orange blossoms. He held the lawn chair she sat down in like it was an antique.