Not Quite Perfect
Page 33

 Catherine Bybee

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“I’ll take you up on that,” Kent told her.
Take me up on a maybe? “It was nice seeing you again.”
Kent moved, but only a few inches, to let her pass. “I look forward to it.”
The weight of his eyes followed her out.
Mary struggled with what to wear, what to bring with her, what to expect.
It was after ten thirty. Glen was due within a half hour and she hadn’t gotten dressed yet. She had clothes pulled out over her bed. Denim shorts? Cotton? Daisy Dukes or something to hike in? Flip-flops or sandals? Or should she wear sneakers?
She pulled out tops for all the shorts and stood back to look at the mess. She tossed the Daisy Dukes on the floor. Too skimpy.
Denim? She glanced outside, felt the warm rays of the sun through her window. She considered the amount of food Glen had offered her on their first date. The denim met the Daisy Dukes.
Mary glanced at the time and compromised between hiking shorts and a simple cotton pair that hid a little more of her butt than the other choices. She shed her bathrobe and pulled on her clothes. In the bathroom, she pulled her unruly mess of hair back in a ponytail and applied a fresh coat of lip gloss. “Not bad.”
She heard the doorbell downstairs and ran back into her room. Her new bathing suit, along with a wrap, was already tucked in a small bag. She tossed in the flip-flops and hopped into her white tennis shoes as she jogged downstairs.
The bell rang again. “Coming!”
After pushing through the plastic, she opened the door.
Glen wore a dark T-shirt, cotton shorts, and a smile.
“Where’s the swimsuit?”
Her shoulders slid and she rolled her eyes. “In the bag!”
“Better be.” Glen stepped over the threshold and pulled her close. “Hi.”
He had a way of making her giddy. “Hi.”
He kissed her. It was brief. It was hello . . . and it was hot!
When he released her lips he pulled on the back of her hair with a tiny tug. “This could be fun.”
“Do you have a line for everything?”
He wiggled his eyebrows and then looked above their heads. “I thought this was suppose to be finished by now.”
She stepped through the plastic and into her living room in search of her purse. “There was a delay.” She walked into her kitchen and kept talking. “If you look down, you can see where they cut in, but they didn’t have the jackhammer to pull out the concrete.” She found her purse next to her phone. “Which turned out fine since the insurance company wanted to come and take pictures of the damage.”
“I’m glad your insurance is paying for all this.”
She hurried back in the living room. “Oh, no . . . my insurance is only paying for new floors. The five grand for the plumbing fix is on me.”
“Ouch.”
“Tell me about it. I just hope once the plumber gets in there he doesn’t find more issues. Or I’ll be back to eating Chinese noodle soup.” She was teasing, but . . .
She stopped in front of him and sighed. Sweater! “Hold this.” She shoved her beach bag and her purse into Glen’s arms and ran upstairs. “I need to grab a sweater.”
Glen laughed as she ran away.
She tossed a shirt lying on top of the sweater she wanted from her bed to the floor. The mess wasn’t really her style, but she’d get to it later. Her eyes landed on Glen’s dress coat from last weekend. Much as she hated giving it up . . . she removed it from the back of her door and brought it with her. “I believe this belongs to you. I probably should have had it washed.” She should have had it washed. How unthoughtful of her.
Glen handed her back her bags and took his jacket from her fingertips and folded it over his arm. “But then it wouldn’t have smelled like me.”
She stopped in her tracks. “Who said anything about me smelling your jacket?”
“Are you telling me you didn’t?”
She blinked a half a dozen times. “We’re not talking about this.”
He chuckled as he walked her out to the car.
Glen loved watching her laugh. He’d purposely rented a Jeep that didn’t have a top to make sure Mary got over any my hair has to be perfect issues from the moment she got in.
As it stood, she held on to her ponytail and enjoyed the wind as he drove them to the pier.
“Aren’t you going to ask where we’re going?”
She shook her head. “I’ll figure it out eventually.”
A parking attendant took the Jeep and Glen walked Mary to their next form of transportation.
“A boat?”
It was a charter with a dozen other passengers. “To get to Catalina.”
Mary’s brows squeezed together. “Did I tell you I get seasick?”
Oh, no! “You get seasick?”
She held his stare and started to slowly smile.
“Oh, I’ll get you for that.”
She laughed with a shake of her head. “You’re too easy.”
It took less than an hour to get to Catalina. Mary might have smiled when they were in the air, but she was beaming now. The sea agreed with her. They sat toward the back of the vessel, where the sides were protected by shields to ward off the wind.
Two of the other passengers struck up conversations with them, from the weather to their occupations. Or, in the case of the other couple, what they’d done before retirement. They lived on Catalina full time and came to the mainland twice a month to shop.