Pleased, I smile. “It’s a date.”
“No.” She shakes her head. “You’d have to work harder for that.”
“Is that so?” I tilt my head. Grinning, she nods her head. “Then what would you call it?” I ask.
“A non-date.”
I grin down at the smirking beauty. Her full lips are tempting. The deep red looks good against her warm brown skin tone. Long lashes cast a shadow against her high cheekbones as she peers down coyly. She’s honest without conceit. It’s a hard balance to strike.
“Noted.”
I wonder what it would take to get her to agree to a date.
“There’s nothing wrong with demanding a respectful request for courtship. I’m old-fashioned that way. The modern dating age with its charts, graphs, and digital aspects has never appealed to me. What about you?”
Instinctively, I long to shut down. I push past the automatic reflex.
“It’s been so long, I’m not sure how to answer that.”
“I’m surprised.”
“Why?” My steps falter.
“Because you seem the type who knows your way around women.”
I frown. “You’re confusing me with my brother, Kane.”
“I didn’t mean that the way it sounded.” She touches my bicep. Electricity zips up my arm. She blinks rapidly. “You’re attractive, well-spoken, and chivalrous in a way most men have long forgotten.”
“Are those compliments, Ms. Paulson?”
“Simply keen observations. I’m shocked no one’s scooped you up yet.”
“Perhaps, I don’t like being treated like ice cream.”
“Really?” She chuckles.
“I’ve had little time in recent years to focus on serious dating. The Davenport Business is a demanding beast.”
“And yet you have time to check out a horror convention?”
“We all have to balance work with play, don’t we?” I enjoy our exchange. What was once animosity has turned to playful banter.
“That we do.”
“Besides, I’m not the only one who works too hard, Ms. Paulson.”
“It’s true. I’m trying to recover from the habit. Pretty soon I’ll earn my first chip.”
“Ahhh. Are you a fellow workaholic?”
“I am. The recovery process is tough, but I’m committed. The group is always open to new members.” Humor turns her eyes into warm brown pools I could drown in. She exudes comfort and goodness. I’ve seen her calm Acton when no one else could, like a baby whisperer. A part of me craves the gentleness. The business world is ruthless. People are insincere, constantly looking for an angle, and money hungry. It’s an abrasive rub, that hardens the heart, and makes one put up walls. Her genuine personality is tempting me into believing I might be ready to date seriously again. Clara Paulson is not the type of woman you start a relationship with unless you’re going after something long-term. She’d be worth it. The thought jars me. Where the hell is all this coming from?
“River.”
We turn toward the Whovian dressed up like a Tardis.
“Hello, sweetie,” she hams it up, and I fall deeper into like. I’m in trouble.