Making Me Believe (2 page)

Read Making Me Believe Online

Authors: Kirsten Osbourne

BOOK: Making Me Believe
13.69Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

“That sounds scandalous!” he said with a shocked look on his face.  “I’m so glad no one was there to see that!  You could have been arrested for indecent behavior!”

“I know.  I’m really ashamed of myself,” she said with her head down.

“How about doing something more scandalous tomorrow night, and going out to dinner with me?”  He hadn’t meant to ask so abruptly, but he had to make sure he’d see her again soon.

She laughed.  “Because you’re looking for a girl who isn’t going to put out, I’m sure.  All men are.”  She didn’t believe that he was actually asking her out.  Most men were scared off as soon as she said she didn’t put out before marriage.

“What I’m looking for is a girl with a sense of humor, who hasn’t slept with every man she’s met, who wants to have some fun with me,” he said seriously.  “How about it?”  He tried to keep the desperation from his voice as he asked.  He really did want to go out with her.  She was special.

She shrugged.  “Okay.  I can do that.”  She was more than willing to spend time with this great guy.  She just hoped he realized she was serious about not having sex before marriage.

They got up, and she helped him transfer his laundry into dryers.  “Great.  I’ll pick you up at six.”

“Okay,” she said. 

He pulled out his cell phone and input the number she gave him.  “Just in case I’m going to be late, I’ll give you a call.” 

They got back onto the counter where they’d been sitting.  “You said you had to work in the morning,” she said.  “What do you do?”

“Aren’t you supposed to ask me that before you agree to go out with me?  I mean, what if I’m a trash collector?” he asked.

“I don’t really care what you do.  I’ll go out with you anyway.  I wouldn’t date someone on the merit of his occupation.  I’m just curious.”

“I’m an architect, but I own my own construction firm, and with all the rain we’ve had, we’re behind on a project.  I need to go check it out tomorrow, and see how everything is going.  The client wants a projected date when we’ll be finished.”

“That sounds like it could be exciting,” she told him.  “What kind of project is it?”

“Some crazy rich guy wanted me to custom design a home for him.  He’s going to be moving up to Westlake,” he said naming a high dollar community north of Ft. Worth.  “This place has it all.  Indoor pool and tennis court, family kitchen and catering kitchen had to be separate.  It’s crazy what all he wanted, but he was willing to pay well, so we did it.  I’m hoping to have the whole project done by the end of next month,” he told her.

“Wow.  I hope he has a family to live in it with him,” she said.

“He’s a newlywed, and they’re hoping to have a big family.  They both come from money, and he makes good money in his daddy’s company, so they’re getting exactly what they want,” he said.  “Some people have more money than brains, and this couple is a good example of that.”

“It sounds like it,” she responded.  “I joke about wanting a place like that, but I couldn’t afford the maid that I’d want to go with it.  I can’t imagine cleaning that kind of space.”

“People don’t really need that kind of space, unless they have fifteen or sixteen kids.”  He stretched, starting to find sitting on the counter uncomfortable.  “What do you do?”

She sighed heavily.  “I work in a cube talking on the phone all day,” she replied.  “I talk to rich people about their money.”  She hated her job.  She knew it came out in her voice, but she just couldn’t stop it.

“That sounds horrible,” he said without thinking.

She wrinkled her nose.  “It really is.  I want to own a little used bookstore and sit behind the desk and talk to people about good books all day long.  I hate what I do.”  She didn’t usually talk to people about her dream of owning a bookstore, but she found herself wanting to tell him every detail of her life.

“Do you work for a bank?”

“Even worse,” she said.  “I work for a brokerage firm.  It pays well, and I’m good at it, but I hate it.  I’m saving, though, and someday soon, I’ll have the money to start my little bookstore.”

“Good for you.  I hope you have it soon.  I can’t imagine you with one of those little antenna things on your head talking on the phone all day,” he said.  “I can see you in a bookstore, though.  You’d bring people back with your pleasant chatter.”

“That’s exactly what it feels like too.  It makes my ear itch,” she sighed.  “I’m always working as many hours as I can get so that I can save up enough for the bookstore.  I’ve been out of college for two years now, and I figure I have about half of what I’ll need.”

“You could give up on your bookstore and become my campaign manager instead,” he told her.

“Campaign manager?”  Was he running for office?  What was she missing?

“I’m taking over the world.  Did you already forget?” he asked. 

All of the dryers started buzzing, and they got down.  He restarted his, and she took her clothes out and folded them neatly, putting them on hangers, and resting them in the laundry baskets she’d brought with her. 

He watched her work, and finally said, “I need to get some of those things.”

“What things?” she asked.

He pointed at the basket.  “Those things.  Then my dirty laundry would stay contained and not threaten my apartment the way it usually does.”  He joked about it, but he really wasn’t exaggerating.  His apartment was downright scary to walk into.

She looked up at him.  “I like you.  You scare me, but I like you.”  She picked up the first basket and started toward the door to the laundry room.  “Watch my other basket for me.  I wouldn’t want the stampeding herds of people who come here to do laundry on Friday nights to steal my clothes.”

He picked up her other basket.  “I’ll just carry it for you.  That way I’ll know where you live, and won’t have to hunt up your apartment tomorrow night.”  He wanted to see her space as well.  He expected it to be neat as a pin, but wanted to know.  He wanted to know everything about her.

“Okay,” she agreed.  She wasn’t going to argue with that.  She hated walking through the parking lot alone after dark anyway. 

He followed her across the wide parking lot and down a level to her apartment.  She unlocked the door, and he followed her in, putting the basket on her kitchen table for her. 

“Is it always this neat?” he asked.  He’d expected it, but he was shocked by just how neat it was.  There wasn’t a single dirty dish in the sink.

“Well, I’m the only one who lives here.  I’m capable of picking up after myself, so it just doesn’t get dirty,” she said.

“Remind me to never show you my apartment,” he told her.  “I think you’d be pretty disgusted.”

“Typical male?” she asked.  He struck her as someone who could be very organized and take care of things well, but he had to care first.  She doubted he cared about how his apartment looked.

“Yeah, I’m afraid so.  My sister used to try to hire cleaning girls for me, but they’d take one step inside the door and run away screaming.  It was sad.  She stopped trying,” he said.

She rolled her eyes at him.  “Go back and babysit your laundry,” she said.  “I’ll see you tomorrow night.”  He was halfway to the door, when she stopped him, “What should I wear?  Jeans okay?”

“Yeah, jeans are fine.  We’ll go somewhere casual.”

“Sounds good,” she said as she shut the door behind him.

Chapter 2

 

Rose got up early to get done with her chores the following morning. She didn’t really have anything that she wanted to wear on a date. Since she’d graduated from college two years before, she hadn’t been willing to spend any more money than absolutely necessary. Work clothes were a necessity. Workout clothes were a necessity. Workout clothes could be worn for laundry and errands. Why did she need nice jeans?

Tonight, she needed a nice pair of jeans. She needed a pretty blouse.
  She may even need some cowboy boots. She’d moved to North Texas when she was sixteen, and had gone to college in Arlington, where she still lived. Her parents had long since moved back to Illinois where she’d grown up, but she’d stayed for college, and had found a job in nearby Fort Worth when she’d graduated.

Every extra dime had gone straight into savings. Maybe it was time she
lightened up and lived a little. She could spend a little bit of that savings. Rose spent the afternoon wandering around the mall, looking for just the right clothes. She found a pair of jeans that fit her body snugly, but not so tightly that she couldn’t breathe easily. She hated jeans that were that tight, and couldn’t understand why any woman would wear them that way.

They fit so well that she bought two pairs. You never knew when you’d
need jeans.

She found a buy two get one free sale on blouses at a favorite store of
hers. She’d bought some blouses from there while she was in college, but they were long since in ruins. She wasn’t into shopping, and tended to wear her clothes until they were stained or falling apart. She bought three blouses and headed out.

 

She went to a small western store and found a pair of pink cowboy boots. She’d never been big into cowboy boots, but she did love pink ones. She’d debated buying a pair on and off during her eight years in Texas.

 

She arrived home around 4:30 and started to get ready for her date. She had dated very little over the years, which was mainly due to her outspokenness. She had given every man who had looked at her twice her opinions about sex before marriage, and most had either been looking only for sex, or had just not been willing to date someone who was as outspoken as she was. Either way, she was happy to get them out of the way. She wasn’t in any kind of hurry to get married. If the right guy proposed, then sure. Otherwise, she was young and had a goal.

She was ready at 5:45 and grabbed her nook which contained the romance
novel that she was currently engrossed in. She curled up on the couch and read until she heard a knock. She shut off her nook and set it on the coffee table. She quickly went to the door and opened it. She’d chosen to wear jeans, a soft pink button up blouse, and her new cowboy boots.

Alex stood there in a pair of jeans, a western shirt, and a pair of cowboy
boots. He grinned at her. “You look great.” His made no effort to hide the way his eyes slid over her from head to toe.

Rose almost felt as if his hand had stroked up her body. She was amazed
at just how sexually aware she was of this man. She’d never met anyone who made her feel this way. “Thanks. You look pretty good yourself,” she told him.

He handed her a bouquet of carnations, and she buried her nose in them,
and then went to the kitchen to put them in water. “I love them! Thank you. Come on in while I find something to put these in.” She didn’t have a vase, so she used a water glass.

He followed her to the kitchen and watched her, leaning lazily against the
counter. “I thought we’d go out to a steak place I know. They have dancing and a good Country band most nights,” he said. “It’s not a bar, but they do serve alcohol. I hope that’s all right.”

“Sounds great! I love to dance,” she said. “I’m not much of a drinker, but I
don’t have a problem if you want a drink or two.”

“I don’t drink,” he said. He didn’t elaborate, but she had a feeling there was
a story in there somewhere.

“Let me get my jacket, and I’ll be ready to go,” she told him. She grabbed
her jacket off the chair where she’d laid it earlier, and slipped it on. He held the door for her and even took her key to lock it.

“I do know how to lock my own door, you know,” she said. She didn’t mind
that he was doing it for her, but she felt she needed to make at least a token protest.

“I know. My mama always taught me that a gentleman locked and
unlocked doors for his date. So that’s what I do,” he explained.

“That works. Tell me about your mama,” she said. She’d always thought
that you could tell a lot about a man by how he felt about his mother.

He led her to a dark blue pick-up truck and opened the passenger door for
her. “Well, let’s see.” He walked around the truck and got in beside her.

“She was a great mom. She was a teacher when she and Dad were first
married, but decided to stay home to raise us. She always had a snack ready when we got home from school. Now that Dad is retired, they’re travelling around North America in an RV.”

“Sounds like fun to me! Did you grow up here in Arlington?” she asked.

“Yep. I lived in the same house from the day I was born until I graduated from college.”

“Wow. That must have been great. We moved around quite a bit because
my dad was a manager for a retail chain. They’d move us to new areas to open new stores, and then move us again once it was up and running,” she said. “My parents have moved back to Illinois, and Dad said he’s not moving again.”

“So that Yankee accent I hear is Illinois? I was wondering.”

Rose sighed. “After eight years, you can still hear the accent?” When she first moved to Texas, she didn’t think that the Mid-Western states had accents. Now when she went back to visit, she would almost cringe at the strong nasal voices.

Other books

Changed by Snyder, Jennifer
Riverboat Point by Tricia Stringer
Armageddon (Angelbound) by Christina Bauer
The Visible World by Mark Slouka
Sex at Dawn: The Prehistoric Origins of Modern Sexuality by Ryan, Christopher, Jethá, Cacilda
A Grain of Truth by Zygmunt Miloszewski
Son of Justice by Steven L. Hawk
I Am Scout by Charles J. Shields
Cold Dead Past by Curtis, John
You Can't Run From Love by Kate Snowdon