An Engagement in Seattle - Debbie Macomber [83]
“What’s funny?”
Lesley instantly felt guilty. She was being more condescending than she’d realized. Chase was a gentleman who’d kindly stepped in to help when all those around her had chosen to ignore her plight.
“Thank you again,” Lesley said, reaching for the tab.
“No,” Chase told her, removing the slip from her fingers, “thank you for the pleasure of your company.”
“Please, picking up the cost of your pie and coffee is such a little thing to do to thank you for what you did. Don’t deny me that.”
He nodded, giving it back to her. “On one condition.”
Lesley left a tip on the table, then walked over to the cash register and paid the bill before Chase could change his mind—and before he could set his condition.
“What’s that?” she asked, dropping the change in her coin purse.
“That you have dinner with me.”
Her first inclination was to refuse. She wasn’t interested in dating and hadn’t been in months. She’d told him as much. She wasn’t ready to get involved in a relationship, not even with a man who was a tourist and who’d be out of her life in a few weeks. Besides, he was a stranger. Other than his name and a few other details, what did she know about him?
He must have seen the doubt in her eyes.
“You choose the time and place and I’ll meet you there,” he suggested. “You’re wise to be cautious.”
Still she hesitated.
“I promise I won’t stand you up the way Todd did.”
“Tony,” she corrected. “And that’s not exactly—” She stopped, amused and frustrated that she found herself wanting to defend Tony.
“One dinner,” Chase added. “All right?”
Lesley sighed, feeling herself weakening. If she declined, she’d be stuck watching Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks in her sweats in front of the TV—and probably gobbling ice cream straight from the container, despite the pie she’d just had. The image wasn’t a pretty one.
“All right,” she said, with a decisiveness she didn’t feel. “Six o’clock, at Salty’s at Redondo Beach.”
“I’ll make reservations.”
“No,” she said quickly. “Not Salty’s.” That had been her and Tony’s restaurant. “Let’s try the Seattle waterfront. I’ll meet you in front of the aquarium at six and we can find someplace to eat around there.”
His smile touched his eyes as he nodded. “I’ll be there.”
Two
Chase Goodman stepped out of the shower and reached for a towel. He’d turned on the television and was standing in the bathroom doorway listening to snippets of news while he dried his hair.
He dressed in slacks and a crisp blue shirt, hoping Lesley didn’t expect him to wear a tie. Gray slacks and a decent dress shirt was as good as he got. A regular tie felt like a hangman’s noose and he’d look silly in a bow tie. He didn’t usually worry about what a woman thought of his appearance, but he liked Lesley.
That was the problem. He liked her, really liked her. The hollow feeling hadn’t left his stomach since the moment they’d parted. It was the kind of sensation a man gets when he knows something’s about to happen, something important. Something good.
He liked that she was tall and not the least bit apologetic about it. He preferred a woman he didn’t have to worry about hurting every time he held her. His size intimidated a lot of women, but obviously not Lesley. She had grit, too; it wasn’t every woman who’d race after a mugger.
Objectively, he supposed, Lesley wasn’t stunningly beautiful nor did she have perfect features. Her face was a little too square, and her hair a dusty blond. Not quite brown and not quite fair, but somewhere in between. Maybe it wasn’t the conventional pale blond most guys went for, but it reminded him of the color of the midnight sun at dusk.
Her eyes appealed to him, too. He couldn’t remember seeing a darker shade of brown, almost as dark as his own.
Chase was physically attracted to Lesley