“Darn. Once again, I hoped all of that would entice you to decide to stay. That way it wouldn’t be forced upon you.”
Stella scanned the shop behind him and didn’t see her car lifted up on the risers. Actually, she didn’t see her car in the shop at all. She looked back towards the parking lot and saw it sitting in the same spot at the back of the lot it was the day before. Sam looked apologetic when their eyes met again. “I’m assuming that means you don’t have the part for my car yet?”
His shoulders shrugged forward and he released an exasperated breath. “I really tried, but it just isn’t going to happen. The guy who was supposed to run the part over, ironically, had some engine trouble, and he won’t be able to get here until tomorrow.”
Yesterday, Stella would have been disappointed. She would have been worried about making it to Boston in time. In time for what, she couldn’t really say anymore. But after making her decision over breakfast, she was relieved that she’d be spending one more night in Willow Beach.
“I know you wanted to get to Boston,” Sam continued. “Like I said the other day, I could set you up with a rental—I might even be able to get you a discount—but it will still be pretty expensive. And there really is a lot to do here in Willow Beach. No offense to Tasha, but the local theater is not usually the sight tourists come to see. If that’s all you do here, it would be pretty sad.”
“I don’t need a rental. Really. It’s not a problem.”
“I wish all of my customers were like you,” he said wistfully. “I am still sorry, though. I know you were excited about your plans.”
Plans? What plans? As far as Stella was concerned, the only plan she had in her future was one little question. After that, a gray, unknowable haze.
She took a deep breath. “If you are as sorry as you sound, maybe you’ll feel compelled to make it up to me? Perhaps by showing me all of the noteworthy sights and bites in Willow Beach? I can find them myself, but I wouldn’t mind a local’s perspective.”
Sam hesitated for a moment, just long enough for Stella to doubt herself and every piece of advice she had ever given her son in regards to dating.
When he wanted to ask his crush to the homecoming dance his freshman year in high school, Stella asked, “What’s the worst she can say?”
“No!” Jace’s eyebrows disappeared beneath his shaggy hair, and his face was pale. “She could turn me down and traumatize me from ever asking another girl out ever again.”
She’d chuckled to herself later at the teenage dramatics. Everything seemed like it was life or death when you were young. The stakes felt so much higher, the risks so much bigger. Eventually, though, you grew up and learned that life wasn’t that exciting, and a little rejection wasn’t going to kill you.
Stella had actually believed all that—until this very moment.
Because standing in front of Sam, waiting for him to answer, she felt like she might die if he said no.
She felt like she’d be traumatized from ever asking another man out on a date ever again, and it begged the question: had life gotten less exciting or had Stella gotten less exciting?
Over the years, every man she had gone out with had been the one to ask her. Usually, they’d approach her at work or the coffee shop, nervously asking if she’d get a drink with them at the end of the day, and Stella agreed like it wasn’t a big deal. Because it wasn’t. She knew she didn’t like them in that way. She knew the date was just a way to pass some time, not an attempt to actually start a relationship.
This moment should feel like that, she tried to tell herself.
I’m only in Willow Beach for a few days. I can’t have a relationship with Sam. This is just a way to pass time.
Maybe all of that was true. Maybe she didn’t really like Sam as much as her pounding heart was telling her she did, but either way, this was the first time she had asked a man out on a date since Jace’s dad, and she was certain she would evaporate from the sheer heat of embarrassment if he refused her.
“That is where you’re wrong,” Sam said with a roguish grin, interrupting Stella’s spiral of panicked thoughts. “You can’t find all of my favorite spots because not everyone knows about my favorite spots.”
“Oh, they’re secret? Any chance an outsider can be privy to those secrets?”
He twisted his lips to the side and crossed his arms. “I don’t know. I swore to the Society I wouldn’t betray my sacred duties of secrecy.”
Stella’s mouth fell open before she registered the sly grin on Sam’s face. “You’re kidding.”
He laughed. “Yes, I’m kidding. And yes, I can share my secrets with you. How about tonight? I can pick you up at the inn around six? I’ll need to go home and shower off the grease before I’m presentable enough to take a lady of your caliber out on the town.”
He was smooth. Practiced, almost. Stella had felt like she was going to shake out of her skin when she asked Sam out, but he was calm and casual. Stella realized she had no idea how often Sam had done this.
Just because everyone, including him, admitted he hasn’t dated anyone seriously didn’t mean he didn’t date at all. The revelation brought along the feeling of jealousy Stella had grown quite familiar with over the last few days, but she shoved it down and smiled. “I’ll see you tonight.”
It wasn’t until she was walking down Main Street towards The Roast in search of another almond croissant and latte that Stella realized she didn’t have anything to wear.
