Free Wedding Date with the Army Doc by Lynne Marshall

His policy was always honesty, so tonight he planned to put his cards on the table and see what she thought.
    Keep things safe. Keep her at a distance. Protect himself.
    He had to, otherwise he couldn’t go through with the date.
    * * *
    Jackson picked up Charlotte at seven on the dot, fighting a swarm of jitters in his gut. Hell, he hadn’t felt this nervous about a date since his high-school prom—and he’d taken his ex-wife as his date to that! Man up, Hilstead. It’s just dinner out. With a lady you can’t seem to get out of your thoughts.
    He forced his best smile, even though he’d only made it to the security call box.
    Once she let him through, he strode the rest of the way to her town house, wondering if he’d made a mistake in asking her out. Maybe it was still too soon to get back in the game. Damn the nerves—how was he supposed to eat with his stomach all tied up?
    Then Charlotte opened the door and blew him away. She’d worn her hair down, which always messed with his head. It waved and tumbled to her shoulders, framing her face and highlighting her warm and inviting eyes. Plus she’d dressed to kill in a cream crocheted lace dress with a modest neckline and cap sleeves. Her light olive-toned skin blended well with the choice. The only color in her outfit was from her rainbow-dyed strapped wedge sandals and bright red and orange dangly earrings. As it was early summer, she’d fit right in for the restaurant he’d chosen.
    She smiled and let him in and he pretended he wasn’t the least bit anxious about this date. He just hoped she didn’t catch on.
    Her earth-toned, stucco-covered townhome was built into the side of a hill along with dozens of others. The place had a nice view of the Conejo Valley sprawl, and he was impressed with her taste in decor. No overstuffed and patterned couches or chairs, her taste was modern, clean and almost masculine. Several canvases covered in bright colors highlighted a few walls, and he recognized the style as similar to many he’d seen in the hospital foyer after it had been newly remodeled. He vaguely remembered hearing that one of the employees had painted them, and these looked very similar in style. Seeing the paintings on Charlotte’s walls, adding vibrancy to her otherwise beige palate, he wholeheartedly agreed with her choices.
    But what he noticed most of all, and constantly since stepping into her house, was her, and how fantastic she looked.
    She’d grabbed her purse and was ready to leave, so he quit staring at the view from her living room—because the alternative was to keep staring at her, which he really wanted to do, but he didn’t want to creep her out—then followed her out the door. He’d better think up some conversation or he’d be a total dud tonight. What was his plan? Oh, yeah, lay his cards on the table. Take control of the situation from the get-go. He could do it.
    â€œEver hear of a place called Boccaccio’s?” he asked as they walked to his car in the building’s lot.
    â€œIn Westlake? Yes. Wow, it’s supposed to be really nice. Are you trying to impress me?”
    â€œI should be asking the same question, seeing how great you look.” She blushed and he not only liked how she looked, but the power her true response gave him. He could do this, have a date. “But don’t get too impressed. Yes, the restaurant is right on a small lake and, yes, the view is great, but it’s just a man-made lake in an otherwise landlocked city.”
    â€œStill sounds wonderful to me. I’ll just pretend it’s real. Can we sit outside?”
    â€œI was planning on it.”
    She was tall and fit well next to his six feet two inches as they walked to his white sedan. So many things about her appealed to him, but he had to stand firm, let her know what he was and wasn’t open to. Keep that arm’s length between them, though after