Victoria Pade - Willow in Bloom

“Thanks for bringing the papers out,” he countered, following in her wake.

He reached the door in time to open it for her, and Willow went out onto the porch again, feeling oddly as if she’d just escaped something. Herself, probably.

“See you tomorrow,” she said as she kept on going down the porch steps to her truck.

“I’ll be there at six,” he called after her.

Willow missed the door handle on her first try and had to make a second attempt, hoping he didn’t realize why she was so flustered.

But it wasn’t a good sign that he was grinning again.

Be cool, she advised. Be cool.

Because Wyla would never have blushed or flubbed opening the car door, and Willow didn’t want to be a woman who did, either. She wanted to be smooth and self-confident and sure of herself, the way she had been that night in Tulsa.

The way she had been the first time Tyler had liked her.

That first time that he hadn’t just forgotten, that he actually had a medical reason for not remembering.

Which meant that he wasn’t a creep at all.

And that she wasn’t necessarily forgettable, either.

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