“I know. I saw it on the whiteboard.”
Butter barked at his empty dish and smacked the bowl with his paw. He somehow managed to spill his water instead. Thea did a little hop and pirouetted over the puddle, grabbed a handful of paper towels, and dropped them over the mess. All while answering a question from Amelia about where her pink headband was. “It’s in the drawer in your bathroom, honey. Do you want to wear it today?”
Amelia nodded, milk dribbling from the side of her mouth. Thea did the same little dance back over to the counter, another paper towel in hand, and wiped it up. “OK, I gotta get dressed or we’re going to be late.”
She whirled out of the kitchen, and Gavin could’ve sworn he felt an actual breeze as she went by. Thea in the morning was like a well-choreographed dance routine. He fed the dog and cleaned up the wet paper towels.
Then he called up his calendar app, uncapped the pen with his teeth, and started jotting down his various training sessions and other appointments, meetings, and required events through the end of December. When he was done, he saw that Tuesday night was open on the schedule. It also happened to be a night off for Liv. He and Thea hadn’t set a date yet for their first night out, but he wasn’t going to waste an opportunity. He got a different colored pen and wrote DATE NIGHT.
At the sound of her feet on the stairs, he quickly put the pen away as if he’d been caught sniffing pine tar. She walked back into the kitchen in a skirt, cardigan, and tall brown boots he’d never seen before. They must’ve been part of her haul from Friday. She held Amelia’s pink headband in one hand.
“I put stuff on the whiteboard,” he said.
“Thanks.” She looked at it and then did a double-take when she saw what he wrote for tomorrow night.
“Is that OK?” he asked, feeling like he’d just asked her out for the first time all over again.
She avoided his gaze. “I’ll have to make sure Liv will watch the girls.”
“We could get a babysitter, if she can’t.”
She nodded noncommittally, which wasn’t a no. “Here’s your headband, honey. Are you done eating?” she asked the girls. Both nodded. Thea picked up their bowls, carried them to the sink, and rinsed them out. She spoke as she put them in the dishwasher. “Will you get propane for the grill today? We’re out, and I was thinking of steaks for dinner.”
“Sure. Do you need anything else while I’m out?”
“I don’t think so, but I’ll text you if I think of anything. OK,” she said with an exhale, turning to the girls. “Let’s get your coats on.”
Gavin helped them both off their seats. They worked side by side to thread arms into sleeves and tug on backpacks. Butter, sensing their departure, flopped dramatically on the kitchen floor.
“Butter’s sad,” Thea told the girls. “Go give him kisses.”
They wobbled over, crouched down, and gave him gentle kisses before promising they would be back soon.
“Now come kiss Daddy,” she said.
“Geez, I’m second to the dog?” he teased.
“You’re less pathetic-looking than the dog.”
“Wow. High praise.”
Thea laughed quietly. The sound made him want to pump his fist in the air.
Gavin picked up the girls, kissed their cheeks, and carried them to the car. After helping to buckle them into their car seats, Gavin walked around to the driver’s side. Thea’s eyes did a shy dodge to the right as she tossed her purse over to the passenger seat.
“We’ll be home after school,” she said.
Gavin propped an arm on top of her door. This was still a line they hadn’t yet crossed—the casual goodbye kiss.
“So . . .” he said.
“See you later?”
He nodded, glancing at her lips. Her breath caught, and she looked at his.
“Bye,” he murmured, his feet inching forward.
She turned and slid into the car.
* * *
• • •
A half hour later, Gavin walked into the diner, once again the last to arrive. The guys had managed to grab a table in the corner this time, farther away from the prying eyes of tourists. Still, Gavin tugged his hat lower on his forehead.
Del shoved a cup of coffee in his direction. “Update.”
“We’re going out tomorrow.”
“Just the two of you?”
“Yep.”
“Where are you taking her?” Malcolm asked.
“I’m not telling you that.”
“Why not?”
“Because knowing him”—he nodded at Mack—“he’ll show up to spy on me.”
“I’ll wear a disguise. You’ll never know I’m there.”
The waitress came back with the coffee and took their orders. Gavin ordered the Big Buckle again and pointed at Mack. “Don’t touch my bacon.”
“The way I hear it, no one is touching your bacon.”
The waitress squeaked out a laugh.
“OK, focus,” Del said. “Where are you taking Thea?”
“Art Supplies Plus.”
Mack choked on his coffee. “What?”
“It’s that huge arts and crafts warehouse place near downtown.”
“I know what it is. You can’t take your wife there for a date!”
Gavin snorted. “You don’t know my wife. It’s like a toy store for her. Our pen drawer at home is organized by color, and she has an entire basket full of washi tape.”
“What’s washi tape?”
“It’s, like, pretty tape for decorating. I don’t know. She loves that shit, though.”
Del nodded. “Nessa has two full drawers of it. Sometimes I catch her staring at them with this weird smile on her face.”
Mack pulled out his phone and started typing.
“What are you doing?” Gavin asked.
“Looking up washi tape.”
“Why?”
“Obviously, I need to know this shit for the future Mrs. Mack.”
“This is good,” Malcolm said. “I like it. It shows you support her decision to go back to school and that you understand some of her passions.”
“Then what?” Del asked.
“I was thinking dinner.”
“Where?” Yan asked.
“I don’t know.”
“Huh,” Mack said distractedly. “This shit is a legit phenomenon.” He turned his phone around. “There are entire Pinterest boards devoted just to washi tape.”
“What kind of boards?” Del asked.
“Pinterest.”
“What the hell is Pinterest?” Gavin said.
“I feel like I’m with a table of baby boomers.” Mack sighed. He leaned and turned around the screen of his phone. “Romance novels might be the manuals, but Pinterest is where they post the pictures.”
“It’s a website?” Del dug out his phone. “How do you spell it?”
“You’ll need to create an account. Just look at mine for now.” Mack gave Del his phone.
“Can we maybe get back to talking about my date?” Gavin asked.
They ignored him.
“What do you use it for?” Del asked, scrolling with his thumb.
“I get all my best outfit ideas from it.” Mack pointed at Gavin. “You should really be using it.”
“Fuck off.”
Mack typed a few things. “There are probably pictures of all of us on here too.”
“Why?”
“Because we’re famous and good-looking.” He looked at Gavin. “Well, some of us.”
Del made a strangled noise. “Christ, I’m all over this goddamn website. Why the fuck didn’t I know about this?”
“Half of these were probably posted by your team’s social media staff, dude. Chill.”
“Wait, this woman here has an entire board of pictures of me.”
Mack peered at the screen. “Yep. Oh, look. She calls herself a super fan.”
“She’s a fucking stalker! What if my wife sees this?”
“Maybe it is your wife.” Mack took his phone back. “Let’s search for Gavin.”
“Let’s not.”
Mack typed again and hit the search button. Then, “Damn, Gav.” He turned the screen around, and Gavin found himself staring at a collage of images of himself, some shirtless and sweaty from various workouts at spring training last year.
“Someone loves you,” Mack said.
“If it’s not my wife, I don’t care.”
Mack aww’d. “That’s adorable. He’s blushing.”
“Are you guys seriously looking yourselves up on Pinterest?” The waitress busted them with a tray of food.
“We were looking for outfit ideas for our friend here. He’s fashionably challenged.”
She smiled at Gavin. Like, smiled smiled. “He seems fine to me,” she said, setting his food in front of him. Gavin scratched his beard to show off his wedding ring.
Mack snorted. “Subtle.”
“OK, back to Gavin’s date,” Del said. “We left off on where to take her to dinner.”
“Let me do some searching.” Mack said. He typed and talked at the same time. “Best . . . Nashville . . . restaurants . . . to get . . . you . . . laid.”
“Man, fuck off.”
Mack barked out a laugh. “Holy shit. There’s actually a list like that.”
Gavin grabbed the phone. “Really?”
“Things might be looking up, Gav Man. No more five-knuckle shuffle for you.”
Gavin shoved the phone back at Mack. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t out to get laid tomorrow. He’d settle for making her laugh again and maybe a slightly longer good-night kiss.
“Gavin, listen,” Del said. “Ultimately, whatever happens tomorrow night will depend on how you handle things, so don’t spend so much time planning out the perfect date that you forget the most important thing.”