He somehow, in a matter of just a few hours, made her completely comfortable with his affection. He even made her wonder why they couldn’t just flit off to New Orleans.
She crossed her legs, once again trying to suffocate her lady parts and get some oxygen to her brain. “Why don’t we try to get through our first date before we plan any more.” Ah, there was her old friend, common sense.
He chuckled. “Okay, but the offer stands.”
How was this guy unattached? He was a dating savant. This was some Richard Gere, Pretty Woman suave shit.
She gasped. “Hey, look what it is!”
His gaze followed hers as they stopped at a traffic light. A King’s Construction stood on the corner.
“We should go inside and see if they recognize you.”
“I don’t think so.”
“Oh, come on! It’ll be fun, like one of those celebrity undercover shows.”
“I’d rather not.”
She really wanted to check out his store, since she’d only ever seen the commercials. “Damn. I really needed a hammer. I lost mine.”
“You do not.”
“Yes, I do.”
His eyes narrowed. “Pull over. We’re running into King’s for a moment. My date, apparently, needs a hammer.”
Bouncing with excitement, she grabbed her purse and followed him onto the sidewalk. She didn’t know why the idea of him walking in his own store thrilled her so much, but she felt like she was walking through the White House with a Kennedy.
The double doors parted and cement floors formed pathways between tall metal racks. Everything was orange and smelled of lumber. “Where do you keep the hammers?”
He laughed. “I don’t know.”
She tsked. “You should really be more familiar with your inventory.”
“Do you understand what I do?”
“Not really. Come on.” She grabbed a cart and led the way down an aisle marked PLUMBING.
“Do we need a shopping cart?”
“You never know.”
She stopped to admire the toilets. “Look, King, thrones.”
He rolled his eyes and took control of the cart. “At this rate we’ll be here for hours.”
“Are we on a tight schedule?” He’d been the one to suggest they make it a long weekend.
“No, no schedule.”
“Good.”
When they reached the hardware aisle, she made some crude jokes about knobs, and it occurred to her that she might be a little high from whatever he gave her on the plane. She was certain of it, when she climbed on a flatbed cart and asked for a push.
“Okay, let’s wrap this up.” He pushed the flatbed cart toward something called a tool corral and she let out a whee.
She was having the time of her life, until a man in an orange apron stopped them. “Excuse me, sir, customers are not allowed to ride the carts.”
She snorted and whispered, “You got in trouble.”
Gage merely nodded at the man and said with absolute earnestness, “Of course. We’ve arrived at our destination anyway.” Then, with hardly any effort, he lifted Perrin off the cart and set her on the ground.
She took his hand and leaned into his arm as she laughed. “He had no idea who you were.”
“I don’t know how you convinced me to come in here. And you’re high as a kite.”
“Shhhh!” She pushed a finger to her lips. “My date drugged me.”
“Please stop saying that.”
“You did. Ooh! Hammers!”
“Dear God.” He followed her to the display, and she examined all the various options.
“Who knew hammers could be so pretty?” There were soft ones, clawed ones, steel ones, mallets, sledge hammers and then she saw the one. “Oh, my God.” She pulled it off the rack and fell into a fit of giggles. “Look at this little guy!” She continued to laugh when she read the tag. It was literally called the Stubby Hammer. It was all of five inches long with the head and claw of an ordinary hammer. “This is exactly what I’ve been looking for.”
“Put that back.” He tried to pull it out of her hands, but she held it with a death grip.
“Nope. It’s mine. I want it.”
“How are you going to get anything done with a little thing like this? This is what you need.” He lifted an oversized, girthy hammer off the rack and gripped it in his fist. “This is a manly hammer.”
She snorted. “Only a man would be impressed by that. A girl knows all that length isn’t helping anything. This little guy will do just fine.”
“Bullshit. You’ll never get a decent swing with that tiny thing. You’ll end up hurting your fingers.”
Her lips pressed together as she tried not to laugh even harder. “Fingers may get involved.”
“Not if you’re dealing with a decent sized tool. Trust me.” He tossed the big hammer on the cart.
She set the little guy next to it. “Aw, it’s like a momma and baby.”
“That’s a daddy hammer.”
“Whatever.”
When they reached the register, she once again waited anxiously for some form of recognition, but no one recognized Gage. She reached for her card, and he waved her away. “It’s on me.” He paid for both hammers with a company card, his name on the front.