He touched a hand to his chest, but his smile gave him away. “Me? You stormed in my house and snapped at me.”
“I call it being passionate,” she said.
“Don’t change Chantelle.” Then his stare turned serious. “It is good to see you and...” He kicked a rock as if it pained him to continue. “I’ll try to comply with this article.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you uncomfortable with me—”
“I’ll be fine. Can you handle it?” The corner of his mouth quirked into a grin. He was being playful? That was always a good sign.
“I did in the past.” She gasped. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought that up.”
“It’s cool. It was a long time ago.”
“Friends?”
He bobbed his head. “Friends.”
She wrung her hands together. “And...” Could she promise this? “I promise not to write anything that you don’t want me to. If I ask something that you don’t want printed, I’ll make sure of it. You have my word.”
His gaze softened. Why did he stare at her as if she were a rare gem? “I believe you.” A chuckle escaped his lips. “You always had a way of putting people at ease.”
Chantelle shrugged. “It’s a gift.” They both laughed, but he had to know. “I mean it, Lance. I’ll respect your wishes. Deal?”
Lance might as well have walked in slow motion. When he reached out his hand, he took hers in his. The sensation of being flooded with warmth overwhelmed Chantelle. Her fingers tingled as his firm hand enveloped hers, but he remained gentle.
“Deal.” He released his grip.
Chantelle could still feel his touch, but she ignored it. “So… what’s next? When would you like to reschedule?”
“Come with me.”
***
The swoosh of fabric and store music flooded Lance’s ears. Scanners bleeped as they picked up bar codes. The click and clack for hangers rubbed against each other.
Lance stood still as a statue, not wanting Mrs. Nelson to poke him with a stickpin. He’d already experience it pricking his skin the first time around. He didn’t want a repeat.
The joys of putting a wedding together. If he had his way, he would wear a collared dress shirt and khaki pants. He could hear his mother’s response if he suggested anything less than the perfect wedding. The stiffness in his jaw increased.
Then Lance’s eyes caught Chantelle, sitting across from him on a metal chair with her tablet in hand. He swallowed and his fingers brushed against his palms. They sweated, but he could do this. They agreed to be friends. He could keep his thoughts in check. Yet, she sat with her legs crossed in her heeled pumps. How did she walk in those?
He licked his lips. Chantelle had loved wearing heels since their high school days. He loved the ones she wore during their senior prom night. Though she hadn’t leveled with his height, she didn’t have to reach too far to wrap her arms around his neck as they danced in the school’s gym.
Lance stared. She looked the same. Her smile, bright as a diamond in the sun. The girl of eighteen he had loved grew into a gorgeous woman. It wasn’t her looks only that caught his attention, but her ambition. Her drive for her work. Her sense of humor and charm. It made Lance remember—everything. How much longer would this take? His mouth twisted, knowing Mrs. Nelson wouldn’t let him leave until she finished.
As Chantelle studied her tablet, she chewed on her bottom lip. Taking a finger, she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. Lance pressed his lips together. Bad idea to stare.
He needed a diversion. “Taking that many notes about me?”
Chantelle raised her chin. “Not too many, but a few.”
“What do you want to know?”
“Where will you two spend your honeymoon?” She then stood to her feet, raising her phone as if to take a picture.
He groaned. “Not too many pictures, please?”
She grinned. “You still don’t care for the camera. How did you get through the bachelor interview?”