With his sunglasses off, I can see the faint lines at the corners of his eyes and notice the deeper ones bracketing his mouth. At first, I thought he was in his early thirties, but now I’m thinking possibly late thirties or even forties. If anyone asked me before if I had an age cutoff for dating, I would have said thirty was the absolute oldest.
Now that I’m faced with such an exciting older man that leaves me humming with sexual awareness- Now I don’t care about ages.
My palms tingle, my short nails scrapping at the sensitive skin, and it’s a struggle not to bounce restlessly on the balls of my feet while waiting for his answer.
He looks pensive and then his scowl melts away, his broad shoulders rolling back and a half-grin curving up his lips. “What the hell. Sure, let’s go.”
Pleased surprise zings through me. Holy moly, he said yes!
“Great!” I struggle to keep my tone even when all I want to do is scream and give an excited fist pump. I might be in my twenties, but at the moment I feel the same mad rush of excitement that I did when I was thirteen and scored free concert tickets for Taylor Swift.
“Let me change, I’ll be right back,” I say and take off around the cabin. Only when I’m in the bedroom wiggling out of my shorts and sports bra, do I realize I probably should have invited him in. And asked him his name. Oops. I’m sure I’m not the first girl whose brain has turned to mush around him. Nor will I be the last. There’s just something about him.
Not wanting to keep him waiting, I grab the first pair of clean shorts and a random top and give myself a fast once over in the bathroom mirror. My cheeks are flushed, and wisps of hair have escaped my ponytail. I tug the hair tie out and briefly consider if it's salvageable to wear down.
It's not, so back up it goes. I debate on mascara and lip gloss and then worry that he’ll notice and know I’m trying to look good for him. I waste a few seconds before deciding I want him to know I’m trying to impress him and swipe on some rose lip gloss and do two rounds of mascara to my eyelashes.
Hurrying out of the cabin, disappointment floods me and I sag against the door when he’s nowhere in sight.
I lift my chin and shove away from the door. Oh well, the important thing is I took the chance, I tell myself while stomping around to collect my yoga mat. I’m nowhere near as loud as he was when he interrupted my yoga session, yet bright blue eyes snap open and immediately turn to me when I walk into the sunlit clearing.
He's doing the tree pose and considering the smell of alcohol that tickled my nose before I flipped him, he’s doing a great job of it. His sandal clad foot is resting comfortably on his thigh, and I can’t help but note his firm calves.
“Feel more peaceful?”
A large smile exposes blindingly white teeth and brings an answering one to my face, though I’m sure nowhere near the brilliance of his. “Actually, I do,” he says, easing out of the pose and bending down to roll up my mat for me.
He hands it over and I tuck it under my arm. I’m tempted to just toss it on one of the Adirondack chairs that came with the cabin, but it’s better I take it indoors, away from the sun and bugs. We walk in silence to the cabin’s door, and I give a bright smile while chucking the mat into the cabin and quickly closing the door.
His dark brows arch up while his light eyes silently assess me as my smile wilts. When his broad shoulders shake, I freeze. Only when deep, delicious chuckles roll out of him do I take a cautious step forward.
“Someone’s in a hurry to get lunch,” he says, coming toward me and holding out his left hand to assist me down the stairs while gazing at me expectantly.
A strong, tan hand with zero ring indents or pale ring lines.
I’m not a risk taker. What I am is an optimist.
Despite everything that has been thrown at me this month, a small shred of that remains and I can’t help thinking this man walking into my life is a very good thing. Potentially the very thing I need at this point in my life.
Grasping his hand, a tingle of warmth spreads from the point of contact up my arm to settle in my chest. My smile is genuine when I say, “Yes, let’s go.”