The Rescue - Nicholas Sparks [60]
Which didn’t make any sense, not really, he told himself, flipping his pillow over and mashing it into shape. He barely knew her. He’d had only a few conversations with her, he’d seen her only a couple of times in his life. She probably wasn’t anything he imagined her to be.
Besides, he didn’t want to get involved. He’d been down that road before.
Taylor shook off his blanket in sudden irritation.
Why on earth had he asked to drive her home? Why had he asked her out tomorrow?
And more important, why did the answers to those questions leave him feeling so uneasy?
Chapter 15
Sunday was mercifully cooler than the day before. Hazy clouds had blown in that morning, keeping the sun from venting its full fury, and the evening breeze had picked up just as Taylor pulled up the driveway. It was a little before six when his truck bounced over the potholes, his wheels spinning gravel. Denise stepped out onto the porch, dressed in faded jeans and a short-sleeved shirt, just as he was climbing out of the truck.
She hoped she didn’t look as nervous as she felt. It was her first date in what seemed like forever. Okay, Kyle would be with them, and it wasn’t technically a real date, but even so, it felt like one. She’d spent almost an hour trying to find something to wear before finally making her decision, and even then she questioned it. It wasn’t until she saw that he was wearing jeans as well that she breathed a little easier.
“Hey, there,” he said. “I hope I’m not late.”
“No, not at all,” she said. “You’re right on time.”
Absently he scratched the side of his face. “Where’s Kyle?”
“He’s still in the house. Let me go get him.”
It took only a minute before she was ready to go. As she locked the door on the way out, Kyle took off running across the yard.
“Hewwo, Tayer,” he called out.
Taylor held the door open for him and helped Kyle up, just as he’d done the day before.
“Hey, Kyle. Are you looking forward to the carnival?”
“Ess a monstew twuck,” he said happily.
Immediately after scrambling onto the seat, he climbed behind the wheel again, trying unsuccessfully to turn it from side to side.
Denise heard Kyle making engine sounds as she drew near. “He’s been talking about your truck all day,” she explained. “This morning, he found a Matchbox that looks like the truck you drive and he wouldn’t put it down.”
“What about his airplane?”
“That was yesterday’s attraction. Today, it’s the truck.”
He nodded toward the cab. “Should I let him drive again?”
“I don’t think he’s going to give you the chance to say no.”
As Taylor made room for her to climb up, she caught the trace of his cologne. Nothing fancy, probably something from the local drugstore, but she was touched that he’d put it on. Kyle scooted over to make room for him, then immediately crawled into his lap once Taylor was situated.
Denise shrugged, an “I told you so” expression on her face. Taylor grinned as he turned the key.
“All right, little man, let’s go.”
They did the big figure S again, taking their time, bumping haphazardly over the lawn and around the trees before finally reaching the road. At that point Kyle scooted off his lap, satisfied, and Taylor turned the wheel, heading into town.
The ride to the carnival took only a few minutes. Taylor was busy explaining various items in the truck to Kyle—the CB, the radio, the knobs on the dash—and though it was clear her son didn’t understand what was being said, Taylor just kept on trying anyway. She noticed, however, that Taylor seemed to be speaking more slowly than he had the day before and was using simpler words. Whether it was because of their conversation in the kitchen or whether he’d picked up on her own cadence, she wasn’t sure, but she was gratified by his attentiveness.
They pulled into downtown, then turned right onto