Coming Up Daffy Page 4

  “Well, I can’t say that I blame him.” Mark battled against caveman tendencies he never knew he harbored. He was two steps away from tucking Alice under his arm and carrying her out to his truck for no other reason than to be alone with her. Something about the petite florist brought out a possessive streak. He cleared his throat while shoving those thoughts aside. “We poor men have little opportunity to be manly or heroic these days. It’s actually kind of nice to be able to treat a girl once in a while.”

  “I can see that.” She cocked her head to one side while the older guy one aisle over snorted with laughter. “So, do you want to go out for lunch? Thanks to the llama incident and the stop into the hair salon, I’ve already frittered away half the day. I might as well start the second half with lunch.”

  Knots formed in his gut. A date so soon? Crud, did she consider lunch with him a date? He thought he’d have time to psych himself into it or at least have time to worry about what to say. “Okay. Sounds good.” Mark followed her to the checkout counter and waited patiently as she paid for the two items. Once they’d exited the store, he said, “Where to? My truck is in public parking.”

  “No need. Let’s go across the street to the diner.” She led the way into the street with apparently no thought to oncoming traffic. “I’m in the mood for a nice, greasy cheeseburger. It’s a good stress buster.”

  Mark plunged across the road after her. He held up a hand in apology to a driver who had to slam on his brakes. Had she noticed the car or did she care? He frowned. Chances were she completely spaced the fact she’d stepped into the road. “What are you stressed about? I didn’t think flowers were that demanding.”

  “I had a less than stellar experience at His-n-Hers this morning.” She didn’t elaborate. Instead, she pulled open the door to the diner — whose name was really The Diner — and entered.

  Obviously, talking and interacting with the pretty blonde had a huge learning curve. She really was a bit daffy. Mark followed after her and soon settled into a booth across from her. By the time they’d both been given menus, a light bulb went off in his brain. “You got your hair cut.” This time, he really looked at her. Instead of the long ponytail, her hair fell to her shoulders, each curl defined and bouncing with a life of its own. “I like the wispy things around your face.” He gestured to his own head in case she didn’t understand him. Realizing he still wore his hat, he whipped it off and casually threw it onto the bench beside him.

  “They’re called bangs, and thanks.” Alice rolled her eyes. “I’m still getting used to them.” She scanned her menu. “According to the woman who cut my hair, my new style doesn’t go with my gardening job.”

  Mark’s jaw fell open. “She said that?”

  “Yup.”

  “What did you say?” He couldn’t imagine anyone insulting Alice. She seemed to be, to use a term from his grandma, a peach.

  “Nothing. Besides, what could I say that wouldn’t result in ugly words?”

  The arrival of the waitress temporarily interrupted the conversation. Alice ordered a cheeseburger and a soft drink, while Mark ordered the same except with iced tea. Once the server left, Alice continued.

  “It’s all right. She probably doesn’t realize how critical she is.”

  “That sort of person always does.” Mark reeled that someone had been outright rude. “For what it’s worth, I think the haircut looks great on you.” He held her gaze, hoping he’d gotten his point across. “You were pretty before. Now you’re gorgeous.” Does that sound as lame to her as it does to me?

  “Thanks.” She dropped her gaze but not before another blush swept across her cheeks. “So, do you have any plans for the future?”

  Mark struggled while his brain tried to adjust to the abrupt change in subject. “What, for this afternoon, next week, next month?”

  “I mean the future. Your life. The bait shop specifically. Is that what you want to do? Talk around His-n-Hers says you’ve got a degree in business.”

  “I’m not sure, and yeah, I do. Dad was adamant both Matt and I go to school, as a back-up plan, I guess. Afterward, I still didn’t have a clue what I wanted to do for the rest of my life, so here I am.” He thanked the server as she brought drinks to their table and then frowned at Alice. “I enjoy working at the bait shop, but to be honest, it’s not fulfilling, and it certainly won’t net me enough income to tuck away for savings.” Why did she want to know, and more importantly, why had he been a topic of conversation at the salon? Did it mean she was interested in him for a long-term commitment? His chest tightened. Was he interested in that? And what did she think about a guy who sold live bait for a living? “And I sure don’t want to run the farm if Matt all of a sudden decides he doesn’t want it anymore.”

  “What do you want to do?” Alice peeled the paper from her straw, carefully balled the wrappings, then deposited them on the tabletop before plunging the straw into her beverage. “If you were able to walk away from the bait shop, what would you do for money?”

  “I haven’t thought about it.” He ripped the paper from his own straw. “Grandma has pretty much decided I’m the bait guy. Once she kicks off, I’ll own it free and clear.” He shrugged and took a sip of tea. “At least then I’ll have total say on what we stock and carry. It’s not a bad gig, but…” Did he really want to have this conversation now?

  “But what?”

  Again, he paused while the server placed plates of food in front of them. Immediately, Alice reached for the ketchup bottle. She squirted a big dollop of the red stuff on top of her fries. Mark thanked the waitress then removed the pickles from his burger. Alice promptly appropriated them, adding them to her burger before taking a huge bite. His heartbeat kicked into a quicker rhythm. Watching Alice eat with unabashed enjoyment instead of taking little bird bites like most women did on first dates sent warmth crashing into his chest. Maybe this dating thing wouldn’t be as bad as he thought.

  “Here’s what I’d love to do if I had the time and money.” He picked up his cheeseburger while Alice took another bite of hers. “There’s a lake in the next county where you’re allowed to rent motor and pontoon boats. I’d love to expand the bait business and offer fishing lessons.”

  Alice washed her swallow down with a swig of her soft drink. As she lifted her hand to brush the bangs from her eyes, a huge splotch of ketchup marred her sleeve. “Will doing the fishing thing make you happy?”

  He shrugged. “I don’t know. I’d have to try it first.” He took a bite and chewed but didn’t taste his burger. Staring at Alice occupied every one of his brain cells. A tiny drop of mustard sat at the corner of her mouth, and it mocked him. It took all the willpower he possessed not to lean across the table and lick it away. Of course, then he’d be obliged to kiss her angelic mouth. How could he not? The more he stared at her mouth — and holy cow she was talking but he had no idea what she babbled about — the more he thought kissing her was a good idea. Would her rosy lips be soft and plush?

  “Aw, man.”

  The vehement statement from Alice brought him back to the moment. She dabbed at a streak of soda she’d spilled down the front of her shirt. Mark quickly averted his eyes before his over-active imagination told him to offer his help in wiping up the wetness. Was she naturally clumsy and as nervous as he — or even as daffy as the rumors said — and if she was, did it bother him?

  “Alice?” He wiped his sweaty palms on his jeans. What was wrong with him? It was a date not a death sentence.

  “Yeah?”

  “Are you working tomorrow?” Tomorrow was Saturday, but he had a plan. Not only would he find out if teaching fishing was a feasible side business but he’d also have the chance to spend more time with Alice. From the way his body behaved as well as his imagination, she could very well have long-term potential.

  “Um, if I can fill all the flower orders tonight so my assistant can deliver them in the morning, then I’ll be off. Why?” She tossed the soiled napkins onto the table and grinned.
“Wanna do something?”

  Mark nodded. He fiddled with a fry while his brain raced to form actual words. “Come on out to the farm tomorrow morning. Right after I feed the llamas, I’ll take you fishing, you know, if that’s something you’d be interested in.”

  “I’ve never done it so I guess we’ll both see, but it sounds like fun.” She followed the agreement with another big bite.

  Never had something as ordinary as eating lunch with another person had the power to steal his breath, but Mark thought he could quite happily die of oxygen deprivation. Finally, when she wiped her mouth with a napkin and removed the mustard did he remember to breathe again. How in the world would he survive a fishing trip when it would be just the two of them?

  Chapter Four

  “Mark, what are you doing up so early on a Saturday?” His grandma’s direct question cut into his concentration while shaving. “You don’t usually wake before noon, if you don’t have to mind the bait shop.”

  Mark ignored her as best he could while he finished washing his face. How would his nosy relative take the news that he was going on a fishing date with the town’s goofy florist? Instead, he turned the tables on her. “What are you doing over here this morning? It’s your day to open the shop.” After hanging up the towel, he splashed on a bit of cologne.

  “I’m out of coffee so I’m making it over here.” The sound of the coffee machine brewing the magical caffeinated beverage confirmed her statement.

  Right, and he’d sprout wings any second now if he believed her. “Gotcha.” Where his grandma was concerned, it was best to play it strictly “need to know.” And Grandma Kincaide did not need to know about his dating situation at the moment. By the time he exited the bathroom and entered the farmhouse kitchen, the older lady was just pouring two travel mugs of coffee. “Thanks for making enough for both of us.” When he reached for one of the cups, she smacked his hand. “What?”

  “That’s not for you, young man.” She twisted the lids on the cups with a cackling laugh. “Nice try though.”

  Mark frowned. “Who’s it for then?”

  A mysterious grin stretched Grandma’s lips. “Ed Raynor is coming by the bait shop this morning. We’re going to talk about Bell crickets and our great-grandchildren.”

  “But you don’t have any great-grandchildren.”

  She sent him a baleful glance. “Exactly. Why do you think that is?” When he didn’t answer, she continued. “Your brother’s scheduled to come back to town in a few days, and you haven’t made any sort of inroads into packing. Have you even gone to check out rental property?”

  “It’s on my to-do list.” He peered through the lace-edged curtains on one of the kitchen windows. The green of Alice’s station wagon flashed as she drove up the drive. “Listen, I’m going fishing with a friend this morning, so I probably won’t be home until supper.”

  “Fishing? The weatherman says it’s gonna rain this afternoon. Nothing more miserable than fishing in the rain, and the fish won’t bite besides.”

  “Well, I’m still going to try.” No way would he forfeit time with Alice for a chance of rain. Half the time, Indiana weather people were wrong anyway.

  “Don’t come crying to me if you get a cold from playing in the damp.”

  The sound of a car door slamming rang in his ears. “No problem.” If luck was with him he could escape the house without his grandma demanding to meet this “friend.”

  “Always looking for fun instead of taking on responsibility.” She sniffed as she packed a couple of pieces of chocolate pound cake into a paper bag. “I wish you’d be more like Matthew. That boy’s got a real good head on his shoulders.”

  “Well, we can’t all be models of virtue. That’s Matt’s job. To balance things out, I have no choice except to be the guy with the devil-may-care attitude, the guy no one has expectations of.” He grabbed his windbreaker from a hook near the back door. “See you later.”

  Then he was out the door and running around to the front of the house. He met Alice on the gravel driveway. He’d thought she’d looked great yesterday with the ketchup on her sleeve and the soda stain on her shirt, but today she could easily be one of those models in fashion magazines. Faded jeans hugged her legs and clung to a nicely curved rear end, but the pale yellow t-shirt she wore made her just like a ray of much needed sunshine. He couldn’t stop staring at her, especially since a few sparkling beads around the round neckline kept drawing his gaze to the swell of her upper body.

  “Wow. You look great.” And I have a feeling she might be way out of my league — whatever that means.

  “Thanks.” Her grin rivaled the sun, which chose that exact moment to come out from behind a bank of clouds. The sudden influx of liquid warmth turned her blonde hair into gold. She waved a light-weight sweater at him. “I’m bringing this just in case. Do you think I’ll need anything else?”

  “Nope.” He glanced at the house. A curtain in the front room twitched. That meant his grandma was on the move. “Everything’s already in the truck, plus a picnic lunch. Let’s go.”

  ****

  After a pleasant thirty minute drive, Mark scoped out a nice-looking spot on the lakeshore that was far enough from the main path that they wouldn’t be trampled on if folks had the same idea, but not so far in the wilderness that it’d be a pain to haul the gear back after a day of fishing. Driftwood, clumps of water plants, broken bits of boats and wood littered the sandy pebble-strewn shore. He handed a rod to Alice and took his own in hand.

  “Have you ever baited a hook before?” He plopped a bait box between them then proceeded to select a hook appropriate to the occasion. Once he tied it to his line, he did the same to Alice’s rod. “Alice?”

  “Oh, sorry. I was admiring the glint of the sun on the water. It’s relaxing here.” She shifted her attention to him. “The water lures you in.” The gentle wind ruffled her hair. “And no, I don’t know how to do the hook thing.” She glanced at the worm he held. A shiver wracked her shoulders. “Actually, I’d rather not have to put a hook through that poor little guy.”

  Mark snorted. “You have no problems handling worms and dirt for your business, but fishing with them creeps you out?”

  “Yeah.” She shrugged. “I don’t want to harm the little guys. Plus, it’s kind of gross.”

  A wave of warmth moved through his gut at her girlie admission. It was cute she acted concerned for the lowly worm. “I’d be happy to bait yours.” He captured her hook, and as gently as he could, threaded the worm on the hook and afterward added a tiny weight to the line. “There you go. I tried not to harm him any more than necessary.” He let go of the fishing line. The hooked worm swung toward Alice. She shrieked and held the rod at arm’s length so the worm wouldn’t touch her.

  He tried with little success to stifle the laugh bubbling in his throat, but it escaped anyway. Seeing her dance away from live bait reminded him of his childhood, when his mom had done much the same thing. And, much like he was doing with Alice, his dad had baited his mom’s hook. Now he knew why. Doing such a thing gave a man a proprietary sense. Being with Alice made him feel manlier than he had in a long time. “I never thought baiting a hook would be the thing that brought out my heroic powers.” Before her worm could squirm off the hook, he tied the weight on the line then added the worm to the hook and headed toward the water line.

  “It’s nice you want to be a hero. Keep working at it.” She joined him at the edge of the lake yet kept her pole well away from her body. “It’s awesome to have such a goal. Heroics and bravery are lacking in the world today.”

  Yes, they are. Too bad folks don’t seem to appreciate stuff like that. “Okay, since we’re doing shore fishing, we’re not after big swimmers. Maybe we’ll snag a trout or a bluegill. Something along those lines.” He cocked his fishing pole back over his shoulder. “Use a little wrist action and chuck your line into the water, but don’t choke it.”

  “Oh, yeah, I’ll get it perfect the first time out.” A
heavy dose of sarcasm infused the statement.

  “Try it.” He demonstrated and cast his hook ten or fifteen feet into the water. The red-and-white bobber remained on the water’s surface. “Now, we wait.”

  Alice attempted to emulate his actions. She made two pseudo-casts before her line became tangled. A pretty frown turned down her mouth. “This is way too hard.”

  “You just have to practice.” Mark unknotted her line and handed the rod back to her. “Go again, but relax this time.”

  She did as instructed. Her line flew into the water about five feet away. Chances were good the tide would wash it onshore within ten minutes but for her first time casting, it wasn’t bad. “Well, at least it’s in the water and not stuck to my backside, right?”

  It took all of Mark’s willpower not to look at that portion of her anatomy. “Yeah.” When the breeze rippled over Alice’s clothes and pulled at the neckline of her t-shirt, giving him a quick glimpse of an ivory bra strap, he fumbled to keep hold of his fishing rod. Thankfully, she turned out of the wind, and the shirt settled over the tempting piece of clothing. “Tell me a little about yourself. Have you lived in Francesville all your life?”

  “I have.” A gentle smile brightened her expression. “I still live with my dad.” She shrugged. “I know, it’s weird. I’m twenty-seven and still living at home, but since my mom died of breast cancer, I haven’t had the heart to leave Dad on his own.” She looked out over the lake where, sure enough, her bobber slowly floated back to her. “Besides, he takes care of my car, and I don’t have to pay rent, which is nice since running a business is sometimes a financial burden.”

  “I’m sorry to hear about your mom. It was tough when Grandpa passed.”

  Alice waved away his concern. “It was several years ago. At least now she’s pain free and in a better place.” She sighed as the bobber danced on the water then beached itself on the pebbled shore. “As for Dad, I kinda like taking care of him. Right now, he’s the only guy in my life, and even though his demands are sometimes annoying, I’d be lost without him.” She lifted her gaze to Mark’s. “He keeps me sane and doesn’t mind that I’m daffy.”