Michele Dunaway

The Christmas Date


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think dinner might just be doable.”

      FROM HER VANTAGE POINT outside the doorway, Kate saw Tyler’s nod of agreement. Instantly, her heart dropped like a stone.

      Did the man not have a clue? Of course not. Tyler was a man—meaning, he was dense. He’d just moved in, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to realize what everyone else knew—that Frieda and Nora wanted Kate married, and Frieda would be happier if it wasn’t to Nora’s nerdy grandson, Niles.

      Best friends for over thirty years, Nora and Frieda were also each other’s worst enemies, especially when matchmaking and gin games were involved. Each of them hated when the other one won. Ever since Sandra had died, the two women had taken on Kate’s love life as a top priority, second only to those gin games and the Neighborhood Watch.

      Ready to put an end to the dinner idea, Kate stepped into the kitchen. However, the daring look Tyler shot her curled her toes, and Kate struggled for composure. Did she wipe that smug expression off his face by rejecting his offer, or take his challenge and accept?

      Tyler Nichols had the body of a god. From what she’d seen of his interaction with the Dogwood Lane matrons, he also had a sense of humor. His job told Kate that he had bravery, drive and ambition. He could afford a decent house. He was the type of man she could fall for. But his career meant he wouldn’t stick around. Kate needed permanence.

      Best to remain simply neighbors. Look, but don’t touch. Dream, but don’t dare. Be safe. The fantasy was always better than the reality. The heck with not appearing weak. Bowing out gracefully was the better option. Pandora’s box would remain closed.

      “Take her somewhere good,” Frieda told Tyler. “Kate doesn’t get out enough, and her idea of eating out is fast food.”

      “That’s for sure,” Nora added, stealing the conversation. “I can’t even convince her to slow down long enough to go to Ponderosa with me.”

      Tyler arched his eyebrows and peered down his nose at Kate. Defiance sparkled in his warm chocolate eyes as he prepared for her rejection.

      “How about I take her to a wonderful little microbrewery I know of, Nora?” Tyler proposed. “The food is the best, and they brew their beer on the spot. It’s also off the beaten tourist path…on the other side of town, over by where I used to live.”

      “Kate doesn’t like beer.” Nora gave a sniff.

      Kate bristled. How did Nora know what Kate did and didn’t like? Time to regain control of this situation, especially since it was her life they were planning. She shouldn’t have let the silliness go on this long, as it was. “Would you three stop talking about me like I’m not here?”

      She drew herself up and moved to stand near them. “For your information, Nora, I’ve been known to have an occasional beer. I just don’t prefer it, that’s all. A microbrewery sounds like fun. Although I’m really not available. I work full-time and I have school, remember? Finals start next week and I have a major research paper due.”

      “Fine.” Frieda gave a huff that was all for show. “I was only trying to be helpful. You need to socialize more. You’re always cooped up in that house.”

      Kate rubbed her hands on her sweatpants. Wendy had pretty well said the same thing. “I’m sure Tyler and I can find a time convenient to both of us to have dinner—if we decide to go to dinner.” She stressed the if, hoping Tyler would catch on. “No help from either of you is necessary.”

      “Tomorrow night,” Tyler said. “How about it, Kate?”

      Had he not heard her say if? Frustration found her, and Kate began formulating her excuse. But in the midst of delivering her refusal, she paused. Neither Frieda nor Nora was paying any attention to her. Instead, Nora was peering through Tyler’s blinds. “Someone just pulled into your driveway, Kate. Driving a dark blue sports car.”

      Kate glanced at the clock on the stove. She’d set the time herself. Eight-fifteen. That meant…Oh no! Once Nora had arrived, she’d only meant to stay a few minutes. Had that much time really elapsed? How could she have forgotten? Then again, how could she have missed the Hummer? Today was simply not her day….

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