Free Bankers' Hours by Wade Kelly Page B

couldn’t admit how pathetic I was and look him in the eyes at the same time.
    Tristan let go of my left hand and pulled my chin up. “Let me clarify a few things. I like you, a lot. You don’t need to doubt that. I do intend to give you a chance, and I will kiss you again.” I gasped and hedged forward, but he stopped me with a finger to my lips. “Not tonight.” He smiled softly. “I don’t know how you managed to make it twenty-five years—”
    “Twenty-six,” I corrected.
    “Twenty- six years without a real boyfriend, but it does explain a lot about you. I’m going to take you out again next Friday—”
    “But I work Friday until eight. And then I have to count out my drawer, and—”
    “Stop interrupting.” He shook his head. “You’re certainly argumentative, aren’t you?”
    “I’m sorry.”
    “Grant, you’re not the only one that’s new at this. I haven’t dated anyone in fifteen years. I’m willing to take a chance on you because your compulsive need to flip those pens made my heart yearn for the first time in my life.”
    “The pens?”
    “Yes. I’ve never taken the time to see people before, really see them. My life has been consumed with work and my daughter. No guy has ever snagged my attention so strongly that I was willing to alter my nondating, workaholic lifestyle for a chance at something good. This isn’t a one-night stand deal for me. I want to plan a future with someone special. You got my attention, Grant, and despite your belligerence and your eccentricities, I can’t walk away without trying.”
    I’d never heard anything so beautiful before. I mattered to him—me! This seriously sexy man felt that I was worth not only his time, but worth altering his lifestyle. My internal clock took notice of the phrase “plan a future,” and I couldn’t breathe.
    As my emotions surged again, I lunged into his arms. When he put his arms around me and squeezed me tight, I pressed my face into his neck and whispered, “Thank you.”
    “I want us to start over, okay?” he whispered back.
    “Okay.”
    “I’m not coming in to the bank this week.”
    I pulled back so I could look him in the eyes. “But…?” I thought he’d said he’d give me another chance. “Why?” My pathetic whiney voice came out. If he really liked me like he said he did, maybe he’d overlook it.
    He explained, “To give you some space. Think about whether or not you really want to date me with intent.”
    “I do want to date you!”
    “Grant, calm down. I don’t believe you’re thinking clearly. In the morning, when the alcohol is out of your system and you can process everything I said, then text me. We can talk during the week, but I think you need to consider what you want in our potential relationship. We’ll talk about it on Friday.”
    All I could do was nod. I felt awful, but hopeful at the same time. He could have easily driven away without explaining himself, or without kissing me. Tristan kissed me. I could have sighed, cried, and died.
    “Good night, Grant.” He kissed my forehead and got back in his truck.
     
     
    AS SOON as he drove away, I dashed inside and called Mel.
    “How’d that beer go? What kind did you order?” he asked.
    “He’s gay!” I blurted. I plopped on the couch and kicked off my shoes.
    “Who’s gay?”
    “Tristan!”
    “No way.”
    “Yes, way. Totally gay. And get this, he told me he’s been flirting with me all week. I don’t know how I missed it!” I unbuttoned my shirt and pulled it out of my jeans.
    Mel mumbled, “Because you never admit when guys come on to you.”
    “What?” I sat up straight.
    “Nothing.”
    “No, I heard what you said, and it isn’t true.”
    “Yes, it is, Grant. I’ve watched you.”
    “When?”
    “All the time. You’re oblivious to any kind of flirtation or advance if the guy’s hot. But suddenly it’s like your extrasensory perception is turned on high when the losers bat their eyes.”
    “I’ve never