92 Pacific Boulevard - Debbie Macomber [83]
“Old-fashioned,” she repeated. “I prefer old-fashioned. Isn’t the term male chauvinist kind of dated, anyway?”
“You mean it’s old-fashioned?” he said, and they both laughed.
Linc found a gas station and asked the attendant for directions to the nearest restaurant. It was a mom-andpop burger joint. They ordered hamburgers and french fries and sodas and talked nonstop for two hours. Lori told him about Geoff, and he told her about his sister moving to Cedar Cove. Then he described his shop and how he’d changed the name to Three Wyse Men when he and his brothers took over. She explained that she worked in a boutique near the mall and had recently moved to Cedar Cove.
They might’ve stayed longer if he hadn’t noticed obvious signs that the place was closing. Linc hated to see the evening end. Unlike most women, Lori made him feel relaxed and comfortable. Their conversation interested him. Apparently neither of them was skilled at small talk, and when he mentioned that, she’d said, “So what? We’ll talk about big things, then.” And they had.
Everything changed once they were in the truck again and he was taking her back to retrieve her car. The silence seemed strained when it hadn’t been before. Linc didn’t understand why and wondered what he might’ve said to upset her. He decided to find out, but didn’t know how to broach the subject, how to ask what was bothering her.
“Linc?” She put her hand on his arm. “Do you mind if we just sit here for a moment?” He’d parked on the roadside, a few yards from her car.
“No…I mean—no, of course I don’t mind.”
She turned and stared at him with the biggest, darkest brown eyes he’d ever seen. “You have trouble with relationships, right?”
He nodded.
“I do, too. But I feel different with you.”
He nodded again, unsure how to explain his feelings in words.
“You’re a good person. You stopped to help me when everyone else drove past.” She gestured at her car. “No one cared except you.”
He wanted to brush aside her gratitude, but she seemed so intent that he didn’t speak for fear of destroying the mood.
“You care about your family, too, and you’ve kept your dad’s business going. I admire that.” She closed her eyes, then opened them. “I’m sick of it all.”
“Sick of what?” he asked, puzzled by the abrupt leap.
“Dating.”
“Does that mean you won’t go out with me again?” He couldn’t keep the disappointment from his voice.
“No…listen, don’t say anything yet, but I’d like to suggest something so far out in left field you’ll probably jump out of your truck and head for the hills.”
“What?”
She chewed on her lip, then shook her head. “No, it’s too crazy. Never mind.”
Linc couldn’t imagine what she was about to suggest and wished she’d blurt it out, damn the consequences.
“I’m an old-fashioned kind of woman.” She paused. “Just like you’re an old-fashioned kind of guy.”
Linc agreed; he liked that about her.
“You seem to have problems with relationships and it’s the same way with me.”
Again, he agreed.
“You’re as sick of the whole dating game as I am, right?”
“Right.”
Lori drew in a deep breath. “You want to skip all that?”
“I…beg your pardon?” He was missing some step in her logic.
She kept her gaze fixed squarely on something ahead, although he couldn’t tell what. “Would you be interested in skipping all the stuff that leads up to…marriage?”
The silence seemed to echo. “Lori,” he said cautiously. “I might be wrong about this, and if I am, if I’m being presumptuous, forgive me.” He swallowed. “Are you asking me to marry you?”
She cleared her throat. “I know this is probably the most bizarre, impulsive thing you’ve ever heard, but I have to ask.”
“You’re serious?”
“Yes,” she said solemnly. “We both want to get married, right?”
That was true. Linc could feel his pulse speed up.
Lori continued. “You’ve been burned. I’ve been burned. Let’s do away with all the nonsense. Let’s just go for