When We Kiss

Chad

I follow Tabby in my truck to her place and wait as she parks the bike, gets Coco out, and removes her little helmet. Then she grabs a booster seat before joining me.

Scooting to the side, I help her position the chair and then fasten the little girl in the center of my truck’s bench seat. “You’re pretty good at this.”

Her eyebrows furrow, but whatever bothered her is quickly dismissed. “Taking care of Coco is easy.”

“Melody is not easy.” Coco’s eyes are big, and she shakes her head slowly. “She is a terrible two.”

“She’s almost three.” Tabby taps her nose lightly, and I like their easy manner.

It’s a short drive to the church grounds, and Coco sings some song about mac and cheese the whole way. I’m pretty sure it’s made up, although I’m not up on all the kids’ songs. As soon as we’re parked, she’s jumping in her seat, ready to ride the small Ferris wheel across the way.

“You stay where I can see you.” Tabby’s voice is stern as she gives this instruction. “What’s the rule?”

“If I can’t see you, you can’t see me.” The little girl says the words as if they’re the Pledge of Allegiance.

“Now have fun, and no goldfish!”

That gets a little whine, but it’s short-lived. “Polly!” Coco waves to another little girl and takes off running.

“At least she won’t have any trouble sleeping.” Tabby’s eyes roam around the semi-crowded field, where I know just about everyone, before turning to face me. “You were planning to come over tonight?”

Her red lips twitch, and a breeze pushes a long curl over her shoulder.

“I thought I’d be sure you were doing okay.” Once again, I run my eyes over the skin-tight red sweater she’s wearing with tight pants that stop at her calves.

In town she had on black flip-flops, but she traded them when she ditched the bike for the kitten heels she’s wearing now.

“I’m doing okay.”

She’s doing more than okay. She’s sending all the blood from my head to below my waist. “I found something you might like this afternoon. I thought we could check it out.”

“Is it something Coco could do?” Her eyebrow arches, and I shake my head.

“It’s something for next time.”

“Impressive how you’re already working on Date 3.” Slim arms cross over her narrow waist, and damn, she’s gorgeous. “Although, you might say Betty Pepper lured Coco here with promises of sugar and fish and brown chicken.”

It makes me laugh, which causes her eyes to widen then flicker away. What’s on her mind? Could it be the same thing on mine?

“We don’t have to call this a date,” I place my hand on her lower back as we slowly enter the festival grounds. “Betty trapped us all into coming here.”

“I don’t even know what they’re raising money for,” she sighs.

We walk slowly past a booth selling little sewn pictures with sayings on them like, I cross-stitch so I don’t kill people. “Probably the youth in Asia.”

“As opposed to euthanasia?” She caught the reference, and I laugh.

“You like David Sedaris?”

“Something about his little nasal-ey voice does it for me.” Our eyes meet, and I like finding things we have in common.

“I might have to get this one for Emberly.” She holds up one of the framed sewing pictures. It reads Don’t be afraid to take whisks.

“Or this one.” It has a rolling pin and the words That’s how we roll.

“She’d love it!” Tabby laughs, and I see another one I like.