Free Midsummer Sweetheart by Katy Regnery Page B

was lovely and she was far enough from Choteau that Wade wouldn’t be able to bother her. He didn’t understand why, and he hated like hell to admit it, but he needed to know that he was going to see her again. When he was going to see her again.
    “Have dinner with me next Sunday. Like at home.” The words were out of his mouth before he realized he’d said them. Crap again, all over the place! What are you doing ? Asking her out on a date ? Stop talking! Get in your car and drive away!
    “So you can check up on me and Dr. Joe? I don’t need another big brother, Erik. I already have one.” She started back down the stairs, but he reached out and took her hand, stopping her.
    Her little hand felt so tiny in his, so right clasped flush against his. He massaged her palm with his thumb in gentle strokes until her fingers curled down. She tried to pull away half-heartedly, but he wouldn’t let her. He finally stilled his thumb, holding her hand firmly, pulling her back to him. He leaned forward, whispering from behind her, his lips as close to her neck as he dared. “Please, Miss Svenson, let me take you out for dinner next Sunday.”
    It felt like a long wait until she turned her head and looked at their hands first, then moved her eyes back up to smash into his. Her cheeks were flushed and her dimple caved in, betraying her, before she nodded with pursed lips. “Okay. Sunday supper. Text me and we’ll figure it out.”
    His whole body tightened and he fought the urge to bring her hand to his lips and kiss it as she had kissed his cheek in the car. His heart beat faster, leaping in his chest. Not happy, exactly, but relieved.
    “ Söndag .” Sunday.
    Katrin nodded again, then wiggled her hand away from his, giving him a pert grin that just dared him to contradict her. “It’s a date, Minste .”
    He stood motionless on the stairs and watched her go. It took him a full minute to realize that she had not only used his hated childhood nickname, but she had also called Sunday a “date.”
    It shocked the hell out of him to realize that in no way did he object to either.
    ***
    After a short twenty-five-minute drive north, Erik turned into a parking space at the Montana Highway Patrol District VI office, which would be the home base for his training from now until September. He picked up his phone, checking for messages, and her words flitted through his head: Text me and we’ll figure it out. He stared at the phone for a second, then opened a new text box, feeling an adolescent eagerness at what he was about to do. His fingers typed quickly, and he grinned at the words before hitting Send .
    It wasn’t a slip, Älskling . – Minste
    A moment later his phone buzzed and he turned it over with anticipation.
    Watch out, Minste . Picket fences can start with pet names. – Älskling .
    He grinned at the phone. Damn, but she’s fun.
    I highly doubt it. –M
    PS, no playing doctor.
    A moment later, it buzzed again.
    See you Sunday. –Ӓ
    PS, don’t tell me what to do.
    PPS, what kind of a girl do you think I am anyway?
    He chuckled softly, staring at her words for a moment before writing back:
    The kind every man wants to play doctor with. –M
    The kind every man wants to play doctor with. Erik put the phone down beside him, first smiling like an idiot, then regretting he had started the conversation in the first place. What was he doing? Asking her out on dates? Flirting with her? No, no, no. This was no good.
    He had driven to Kalispell on autopilot, practically in a daze, thinking about her standing on the front porch next to José, waving good-bye. He could read the subtext in her cheerful smirk, as she’d edged her body just an inch closer to José’s: We’re just friends, right?
    Today sure hadn’t gone according to plan. He was supposed to pick her up, have a quiet drive to Skidoo Bay, drop her off, wave good-bye and never think about her again. Instead, he was battling the attraction of his life and