"Hi, Kyle." Mrs. Gladwell glided into the room and gave his arm a squeeze. "The yard is looking lovely."
He managed a laugh. "Even with the grass pulled up?"
"Especially with the grass pulled up. I'm really pleased."
"Thanks."
Mrs. Gladwell didn't acknowledge him. She was staring at the dining room table with her eyes narrowed. "Gavin, please tell me you didn't do the thing where you try to put the fear of God into Faith's date by making arrows at my dining room table again."
"I'm not putting the fear of God into anyone," Mr. Gladwell said, smirking. "I'm putting the fear of meeting God into these boys."
A flush climbed Kyle's neck and flooded his face with heat. Sweat prickled on his nose. "Should I, uh, say my prayers, sir?"
Mr. Gladwell burst out laughing. "Okay, I like this one. Much better than the other kid."
"His name was Cameron," Mrs. Gladwell said, shooting a sidelong look at Kyle. "And we probably shouldn't be discussing him."
"Good, because that kid was a punk," Mr. Gladwell muttered before he waved and disappeared into the living room."
Mrs. Gladwell shook her head, smiling. "You'll have to forgive him. Raising three girls makes for an overprotective-and warped-father."
Kyle nodded, relieved the conversation was over and wondering where he should put his hands. Behind his back? Clasped in front? Folded in prayer that Faith would come down soon, before he had to make small talk? Which was so stupid, because he did business with her mom. He had no trouble talking about plants, but now that they were "the parents," standing here with either of them, shooting the breeze, was pure torture.
"Sorry I'm late!"
Faith came in, and Kyle's heart stopped. She'd let her hair down, instead of pulled back in a bun, and her mile-long legs were on full display in a pair of skinny jeans. Her cheeks were slightly pink, but she looked happier and more chill than he'd seen since he met her. He was doing the right thing, asking her out, so he should probably chill, too.
He must've been staring, because Mrs. Gladwell stifled a laugh and said, "You kids have fun."
Smiling, she left for the living room, too. Now they were alone. Kyle couldn't think of a word to say. Faith was looking him up and down, smiling.
A few more seconds passed before Mr. Gladwell called, "You two going or do you want to stay here and play Yahtzee?"
They laughed. "We're leaving, Dad," Faith called back. "Geez, whoever heard of a father kicking her daughter out on a date."
And with that, they stepped out onto her front porch. She shut the door behind them, then turned to face him. "So, now what?"
He smiled slowly, finally feeling his confidence return. "It's still a surprise."
Chapter Twenty
Faith
They started down the sidewalk, and Faith couldn't believe her legs still worked. God, Kyle looked nice. She'd been surprised by the khaki shorts and Polo yesterday, but today he wore a pair of jeans that fit him in all the right places, along with an untucked button-down. He turned to check if she was following and she had to snap her gaze back to his face. The corner of his mouth turned up, then he swaggered to the car, probably overdoing it just for her.
Her cheeks grew warmer. No, Kyle, I'm not staring at your ass. You have a piece of lint stuck there. Can I pull it off for you?
Oh, Lord.
"So, we're taking the Charger tonight?" she asked to fill the void of awkward silence threatening to make her run back to the safety of her house. Why was it so easy to flirt with him, to lean in, when they were in the backyard, but she felt so stiff and unsure now?
"I, uh, thought you might like it better." Kyle opened her door, but his expression … he looked uncertain, too. "Did you want to ride in the truck instead?"
She shook her head quickly. "No, the Charger's great. I've always wanted to see what one was like, aside from being fast."
He visibly relaxed. "They are, but I promise not to drive like an idiot tonight."
It took him longer than it should have to come around the car after closing her door. In her side-view mirror, she caught him pausing to take a deep breath, his shoulders drawing back and his chest expanding out.
When he got into the driver's seat, she asked, "Are you okay?"
"What? Oh, I'm fine." He flashed her his typical "I own the world" smile. "But … are you scared to ride in this car with me? Because I promised your dad I'd drive safe."
She couldn't help but melt a little inside. He'd actually paid attention to her dad? Cameron had spent more time mocking her parents' overprotective nature after the fact than listening. "I'm not scared at all." She leaned back in her seat. The leather was supple as a well-worn pair of jeans. "This is one sexy car, though."
Kyle raised an eyebrow and turned the key in the ignition. The engine rumbled to life, vibrating the entire car. "You have no idea."
She laughed and her hand flew to her mouth. He reached out and pulled it away. "Why do you put your hand over your mouth when you laugh?"
She swallowed her laughter and cocked her head. "I do?"
"Yes, you do." He smiled, puzzled. "It's cute, but I like it when you smile, so … "
He nodded at her wrist in his hand, and a little shiver ran through her middle. "I never noticed, I guess. I don't know why I do it."
He leaned across the console between them, eyes alight. "I'll help you quit the habit if you want me to. Means some hand-holding, though. Any objections?"
Her heart stuttered over a few beats. "No." She stared down at his hand and wriggled her wrist until her hand was in his. "Cameron thought holding hands was childish. But he's a douche."
He gave her a solemn nod. "He is."
She met his gaze, feeling something unwind inside her. "And you're not."
Kyle stared down at the console. "You don't know me, Faith."
"Not much. Not yet," she answered softly. "But I like what I see so far."
He cleared his throat and let go of her hand. She wasn't sure if she should be hurt by that or not, but when he turned to check his side-view mirror, she noticed a grin spreading across his face.
He put the car in gear, both hands on the wheel-which made her feel better about him letting go-and they glided away from the house. The Charger growled its way through town although, true to his word, Kyle stuck to the speed limit. Okay, maybe five miles an hour over, but that didn't really count.
Faith peered out the window. The sun had long since retired and streetlights glowed as they drove to downtown, where historic buildings and trendy restaurants lined the sides of the road. "Will you tell me where we're going?"
"I will," he answered, flipping on the right turn signal. "Because we're here."
He pulled into the lot at the Suttonville Gardens and Arboretum. There wasn't a single car around, and all the lights were off, save a few in the back of the large greenhouse that held most of the exhibits. A little knot of anxiety burrowed into her spine. Just what did he think was going to happen here?
"Um, I think they're closed," she squeaked, instantly hating herself for sounding so timid. Seize the day, girl! That thought was in Vi's voice, but it wasn't any less true.
Kyle was watching her. "I know the manager. He said we could tour the gardens after hours, a private showing. If you'd rather go somewhere else, we could-"
He sounded so earnest, not like a guy trying to seduce a naive dancer. And it was the arboretum. He'd brought her to a place that meant something to him. Not some party, cheesy club, or even to his house for his version of "Netflix and chill." He'd brought her to a place full of plants, and from his expression, he really wanted her to like it.
She unfroze and smiled. "There's no other place I'd rather be."
His smile in return was pleased. "Good. Because the place isn't the only surprise. Come on, I'll show you."
Deciding to trust in whatever Kyle had cooked up, she climbed out of the car. "Lead the way."
They entered the greenhouse through a back door. Kyle had a key. "Where'd you get that?"
"I know a guy," he said, sounding a lot more sure of himself now. "I think you'll enjoy it."
They went through a tiny office and a nursery of sorts, where little trees were propped up in posts with sticks and twine. "This is where they start seedlings," he said, pointing at one group of pots. The trees were barely eight inches high. "Those are from a historic pecan in the park. They're trying to replicate it."
He went to a small fridge in the corner that she hadn't noticed and pulled a shopping bag out. She frowned. "We're not here to steal plants, are we?"
He laughed, and it changed his whole face. He looked younger, vulnerable. "I promised you dinner, remember?"
She stared down at her shoes. When would she ever figure out how to talk to him? Probably right after they graduated and she never saw him again. "Right."
He came over and took her hand. It was warm in hers, and she realized she'd been missing it since he let go in the car. "Now for the surprise."