Tipsy (Take It Off #5)(9)
Author: Cambria Hebert

The kitchen was my favorite room in the house, with slate floors, dark cabinets, and black appliances. There was a small island in the center that had a butcher block top and wheels on the bottom. The base of the island I painted a deep plum color, and it had a shelf where I kept some pots and kitchen items stacked neatly.

Against the wall was a single French door that led out onto a private covered patio. Well, the realtor called it private, but my neighbors had one just like it on either side, so if they were out at the same time I was, there really wasn’t any privacy.

The microwave dinged and I pulled out the steaming mug, dunked the teabag inside, and added a generous dollop of honey. The first sip of hot tea was always the best.

I sighed as the warm sweetness traveled down my throat. I took my mug and left the kitchen, going back out into the living room, and headed to the stairs. Just as my foot hit the bottom step, the doorbell rang frantically.

I laughed and pulled it open. “That was fast,” I said as Dee pushed her way inside.

“Are you kidding!? You said the word date. I broke every speed law to get over here.”

“Don’t let Blue hear you say that.”

Her jaw fell open. “Blue asked you out.”

“Yep.”

“You said yes?”

I paused. Okay, I probably shouldn’t have. But I couldn’t resist him.

“Ohmigod,” Dee said, her words running together as she dragged me upstairs and into my bedroom.

I sat my mug on the white bedside table and flopped down on the fluffy down comforter on my bed.

“How did this happen?” Dee said, pacing. Then she gasped. “Did you call him?”

“No!” I shot out. This girl has some pride, you know.

“He came to you?”

I told her about his second visit to the salon. She didn’t say anything but raced through my bathroom and into the walk-in closet. “Girl, you need to look hot, as in H-A-W-T. Make him eat his heart out.”

Sounded good to me. Giving him a taste of what he does to me wasn’t a bad idea.

I fell back into my hundreds of pillows (okay, it was more like ten) and thought about the first—and last—date I had with Blue. North Carolina had been on the cusp of summer. The weather was in that special in-between state that we southerners never got enough of. It wasn’t too hot and it wasn’t too cold. It was warm and when the breeze blew, there was just a hint of chill in the air.

He picked me up and drove us to Wilmington, which was about an hour south of Jacksonville. We ended up at the Mayfaire Shops at Brixx, this totally delicious wood-fired pizza place. We sat outside underneath their awning and ate wood-fired pizza and sampled some of their brewed beers.

We laughed a lot. I remembered thinking about how laidback and relaxed he was, considering the profession he worked in afforded so much authority. In fact, if I hadn’t known he was a police officer, it would have been the last thing I would have guessed about him.

After dinner, we walked around the outdoor shops, not really paying attention to anything because we were so wrapped up in each other. When it started to thunder, he pulled me into the nearby movie theater and bought tickets to a movie I barely remembered. Who could pay attention to the big screen when someone that literally made my heart race was sitting just beside me? During those blissful two hours, I practically lived for those casual touches when his arm would brush against mine or when our fingers would bump together when we both reached for the popcorn at the same time.

My entire body had been hyper aware of him the entire time. When the movie was almost over, he reached over and threaded his fingers through mine. I’d never felt such a nest of butterflies inside my body than I had right then. He left our hands joined together, resting them in my lap until the credits rolled onto the screen.

It was storming when we walked out of the theater. Big, fat drops of rain that splashed in the huge fountain on the sidewalk as it lit up in flashes of blue and pink. We started to run for it, but then he pulled me back, keeping us in the pounding rain as he pulled a penny out his pocket and told me to make a wish.

I wished for him.

He tossed the penny in the fountain and then pulled me close.

I prayed to God he would kiss me.

I barely even noticed the rain at that point. All I felt was the beating of both our hearts against our chests. He lowered his head… but he didn’t kiss me. Instead, he pressed his forehead against mine and started to dance.

We slow danced in the rain beside the color-changing fountain until both of us were soaked through.

Then he drove me home in his sexy car and walked me to the door like a gentleman. I anticipated his kiss… I craved it. I wanted it so desperately that when he left me on the steps without so much as a peck, I thought I might die. I even considered chasing him down and beating him with my purse.

Even the sharp disappointment of no kiss could fully erase the feeling, the giddiness of being in his arms while we danced.

And then I waited for him to call.

I stared at the phone. I checked it to make sure it was working when it never rang. I watched the door of the salon and my heart sped up when someone of his size and build walked in. But he never came. He never called.

It hurt way more than I thought it would.

It seemed stupid to get so twisted up after only a single date. Even knowing how stupid I was didn’t stop me. As the weeks wore on, the weather heated up. I knew he would never call. It almost seemed impossible he hadn’t felt what I had that night.

How one man could completely disregard me and still make it impossible for me to want to date anyone else I would never understand.

And now he was back.

Was he going to do this to me all over again?

What was that saying? Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me.

“Earth to Julie,” Dee yelled, cutting into my deep thoughts.

I lifted my head and looked at her. “Yeah?”

“Geez. You are completely tipsy.”

“No, I’m not.” I protested, pushing up into a sitting position.

She snorted. “Uh, yeah. You are. The only time you ever seem to stop listening is when you’ve had one too many to drink.”

“I’m drinking tea.”

“Apparently alcohol isn’t the only thing that makes you tipsy. Blue does too.”

I rolled my eyes. You couldn’t get tipsy on a person. “What did you pick out?” I asked, changing the subject.

She held up a pair of dark skinny jeans and a low-cut purple top.

“With the tall black boots and black leather jacket?” I asked, tilting my head.