She finally found the card and removed it from its tiny envelope. She immediately recognized Decker’s expressive cursive writing and smiled. The message read “Desi, I know when to cut my losses. If I don’t hear from you after you receive these flowers, I’ll know you’re never going to give me the chance to love you the way you deserve to be loved. Yet I’m still hoping to be yours someday, Decker.”
Suddenly weak in the knees, Desiree leaned heavily against the car door, her gaze lingering on the note. She didn’t know why she felt like this: happy and sad at the same time. Decker had never written anything so heartfelt on his cards before. The messages usually consisted of things like “Go out with me already” or “How about dinner tomorrow night?” Once he’d written “Hello from your friendly neighborhood stalker.”
Standing there in John’s driveway, she realized that Decker might be thinking things were over between them for good since she hadn’t bothered to phone him. That must have been why he’d written that if he didn’t hear from her, he would know she didn’t want anything to do with him and would give up.
She was torn. Did she really want him to give up on her? To be honest, she had gotten some kind of weird satisfaction out of having a gorgeous man pursuing her. Flattery wasn’t the half of it. Decker Riley provided the closest thing she’d had in her life that could be construed as a relationship with a man. John was right: she was scared to take another chance on love. Decker had been safe because she could hold him at bay.
Did she have the courage to call him and ask him out? If she didn’t, what did that make her, a pseudopsychologist? How could she help anyone else when she couldn’t even overcome her own shortcomings? How could she advise anyone else about life when her own was so messed up?
She slipped the card back into her shoulder bag and got behind the wheel of the SUV. Picking up her cell phone, she ran a finger across the touch screen and selected Decker’s cell phone number.
He answered after three rings. “Desiree?” He sounded tentative, as though he was unsure as to why she’d phoned him.
“Do you have a moment?” she asked softly.
“I’m home,” he said. “You can have all the time you need.”
“Thank you for the flowers.”
He sighed. “It’s been a week. I thought you weren’t going to call.” He didn’t sound upset, though, just wary.
“I got sidetracked. I’ll tell you about it sometime.”
“You promise?”
“Yes, maybe over dinner?”
“You mean it?”
“Yes, Decker,” she said with a short laugh. “I mean it. I know it’s been a long time coming, but I’d like to see where a date with you will lead. Do you accept the challenge?”
He laughed, too. “Hell, yeah, I accept! I know exactly where I want to take you for dinner.”
“Where is that?” she asked, her tone entirely too expectant for her comfort. She didn’t want to sound overly eager.
“Don’t you worry about where,” said Decker. “Just tell me which night you’re available, the time to be at your place and leave the rest to me. Are you game?”
Desiree was grinning now. This could be fun, a bit of spontaneity in her well-ordered life. “All right, Friday night at eight.”
“I’ll be there, beautiful. Wear your dancing shoes.”
“You dance?”
“Of course I dance. All Riley men dance.”
“What about Riley women?”
“Who do you think teach the Riley men?”
She laughed delightedly. “Then your mom taught you to dance?”
“She started when I was five years old. She told me all Southern gentlemen should know how to conduct themselves on the dance floor. She’s very old-school.”
Desiree had met his mother, June, on several occasions and liked her. She was always kind to her and, like her son, had a killer sense of humor. But she didn’t strike her as old-school. She dressed beautifully in the latest designer fashions and drove a sports car, fast.
She laughed at his assertion. “Your mom’s ultramodern, and you know it.”
“That she is,” Decker admitted. “Deep down, though, she’s traditional. She’s getting very impatient with me.”
“About?”
“Bringing some nice girl home to meet her and Dad,” Decker said. “She likes you.”
“I like her, too, but let’s not talk about that until after the first date, okay?”
Decker laughed. “I’m getting a little ahead of myself, huh?”
“A little,” Desiree said with a smile.
“I can hear a smile in your voice,” Decker said. “You’re not turned off by the thought. I’ll take that. See you Friday night. Do you like Italian food?”
“Love it. Should I wear something casual or dressy?” Desiree asked before he could hang up.
“Let’s keep it casual for the first date,” Decker said.
“Okay,” Desiree returned. “And Decker?”
“Yes?” he asked. His voice was so deep and sexy that Desiree could have sworn her toes were curling.
“Thanks for being so understanding about my not phoning sooner.”
“You’re welcome,” was all he said, and they ended the call.
Desiree sat in her car for a moment, smiling. That hadn’t turned out the way she had anticipated. She had believed she was making the call to prove to herself that she wasn’t a coward and could go forward with her life. But once she heard Decker’s voice, something inside her melted. She began to genuinely look forward to going out with him and getting to know him better than the “surface Decker” she had known for the past two years. She couldn’t wait until Friday night.
* * *
Decker stood for a moment in his chef’s kitchen, looking dumbly at the cordless phone in his hand before putting it back in its cradle. He couldn’t believe Desiree had suddenly had a change of heart and decided to give them a chance. Now he was dying to know why. What had made her do it?
Maybe she’d confided in her sister. He picked up the phone again and dialed Colton’s cell. Colton didn’t answer. When it went to voice mail, Decker hung up. He wanted to speak directly to his cousin. He dialed Colton and Lauren’s home number.
Lauren answered, and she sounded a bit breathless. “Decker, what’s up?”
“Lauren, have you spoken with Desiree lately?”
“We briefly chatted earlier today,” Lauren said. And then she said something softly to someone who was evidently with her at the moment. Decker couldn’t make out what she’d said.
The next voice he heard was Colton’s. “Look, Decker, unless this is a life-or-death situation, we’ll call you back later. We’re busy, if you know what I mean.”
“Sorry,” Decker said, chuckling. “I just wanted to let you know your plan worked. Desiree just phoned me. We’re going out Friday night.”
“What!” Decker heard Lauren shout. Then she apparently took the phone from her husband. “When did this happen?” She sounded delighted, which made Decker grin even wider.
“A few minutes ago,” Decker said. “Did she