One important thing.
He doesn’t do relationships.
He’s not the type of guy who settles down, wants to settle down, or even wants a girlfriend. That was evident in our conversation last night.
So, before my heart starts skipping a beat every time I hear him breathe, I need to remind myself that he’s not the marrying type. He’s not long-term. He’s not what you’re looking for despite how much he makes you mentally faint from just one wink.
“Doesn’t seem like makeup,” JP says as the elevator doors part and he walks in.
“Are you a makeup aficionado now?”
“I know some things about the stuff.” He presses the lobby button.
“Oh yeah? Do you wear blush, JP?”
“Only when it’s caught on the collar of my shirt.” He smirks and I hate him for it.
But also . . . God, he’s so hot.
Attempting to move past this topic, I clear my throat and ask, “So, what’s planned for the evening? All you said was dress casual. Should I know anything else?”
“Just leave it to me.”
“That’s what you keep saying, but I need to tell you, I’m a bit worried.”
“Why? You know I wouldn’t let anything happen to you,” he says so earnestly that I truly believe him.
“I know that,” I say, feeling shy about the confession. “But, you know, it’s always nice to prepare oneself for what’s to come. So, what should I prepare for?”
“Prepare yourself to have a good time,” is all he says as the elevator slows and the doors open. He steps behind me, places his hand on my lower back, and guides me out to the front of the hotel, where the doorman opens the door for us.
“Mr. Cane, Miss Gardner. Have a good night.”
“You, too, Tim,” JP says before he leads me to our waiting car and opens my door for me.
It takes me a moment, but when I’m settled in the back seat with him, my mind whirls with thoughts. Stupid thoughts.
Annoying thoughts.
He opened doors for me.
He touches me.
He couldn’t possibly be doing the things I said I look for on dates . . . right?
Oh my God, Kelsey, are you hearing yourself?
This is exactly why you don’t get involved in stupid short-term companionships—or friendships with men—because you’re such a stupid romantic that you think everyone is trying to date you.
This is JP we’re talking about. The man is a flirt. He’s also very attentive and a gentleman by nature. During meetings at Cane Enterprises, before any of this insanity even started, he often held open doors, or helped me out of cars. This is nothing new. This is JP just being JP.
“Want to tell me why your jaw is clenched like that?” JP asks as we start making our way through town.
“Is it clenched? Oh . . . I don’t know. I’m not mad or anything, if that’s what you’re thinking. There’s nothing to be mad about, or irritated at, right? Just two short-term companions going somewhere unknown, that’s all.”
He eyes me suspiciously. “You’re acting weird.”
“Am I?” I wave my hand in front of my face. “Maybe it’s hot in here. Are you hot? I’m wearing a lightweight sweater but it still feels hot. Are you hot?”
“I’m fine,” he says, looking disturbed. I don’t blame him. I’m internally freaking out and externally starting to project it. “But we can turn up the AC.”
“No, that’s fine. No need to get crazy or anything.”
He pauses and then turns toward me. “Kelsey, do you not want to do this?”
“What? No. I mean . . . yes.”
“Yes, you don’t want to do this?”
“No. Yes . . . urgh. I want to do this. I’m sorry, I’m just . . . awkward. Ignore me while I gather myself and try to act like a normal human for you.” I give him a brief smile, then look out the window, squeeze my eyes shut, and attempt to steady my heart.
Get it together, Kelsey.
So what if he took pictures on a carousel with you yesterday, told you his real name, touched you in the lobby . . .
This means nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
My phone buzzes in my purse and I’m grateful for the reprieve. I fish it out and glance at the screen.
Lottie: Dinner tomorrow night with Derek at the Crab House on Pier 39. He thought it would be the perfect place for a date. Meet him there at seven. Don’t be late.
I smirk.
The perfect date—seems like a good date to me. Maybe Derek and I have something in common.