The Path To Love by Jane Myers Perrine

Author:Jane Myers Perrine
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Steeple Hill
Published: 2005-02-15T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter Eight

“Would you go to dinner with me?” To his surprise, the words popped out of his mouth, but they felt right.

Francie’s mouth fell open. “What?”

“Didn’t you ask me why I didn’t ask you out?”

She nodded as she lowered herself onto the bench.

“I do want to take you out.” A good start. “I admit I was very slow in getting around to it.”

“Why?”

“Why was I slow?” He frowned. How could he explain that?

She nodded. “Were you—are you ashamed of me? I know we’re very different, from very different backgrounds.”

No, he wasn’t ashamed. That wasn’t the word he’d use but he could understand why she might think that. He hoped he wasn’t the kind of man who would feel ashamed to be seen with anyone. Hesitant, uncertain and, probably, confused might describe how he felt, but he couldn’t admit any of those feelings without hurting her.

“I didn’t know if we have enough in common,” he said.

She nodded again.

“But there’s only one way to find out if we do or we don’t. Will you go out to dinner with me?”

Francie’s bewilderment showed on her face.

“Oh, excuse me.” A man’s voice came from the entrance to the park.

When Brandon looked over his shoulder, he saw a man with a little black dog moving away.

“You’d better agree because I’m not going to allow you to refuse.” He sat next to Francie. “However, I would like to hurry this a little so we don’t inconvenience people and small dogs that would like to share this place.”

“Thank you, but no. I can’t go to dinner with you.” She sighed sadly.

“What? Why not?”

“Well, for one reason, I have nothing to wear.”

He blinked. “Yes, you do.” He waved toward her T-shirt, jeans and scruffy tennis shoes.

She followed his gesture and sighed again. “Oh, you’re a man. You wouldn’t understand. You’ve seen everything I have and none of it is nice enough to go to a restaurant with you, at least, not to the kind of restaurant you’d normally chose.”

“Francie, I’m asking you out, not your clothing.” He took her hand again.

“Well, thank you. That’s very nice of you, but the clothes go pretty much wherever I do.” She kept her eyes on their intertwined fingers. “Besides, like you said, I don’t know that we have enough in common to be able to talk to each other.”

“We’re doing that now. Although it’s about something not very important—”

She glanced up at him and frowned before dropping her gaze again.

“I’m sorry. What you wear doesn’t seem important to me, but if that’s important to you, I’ll try to be more sympathetic.” He paused. “I think the only way to find out if we have something to talk about is by going out, by getting to know each other.” When she didn’t answer, he said, “Francie, would you look at me?”

She lifted her beautiful but uncertain eyes to his.

“I’d like to spend time with you,” he said. “If that means taking walks together or sitting in the library reading while you study or grabbing a cup of coffee someplace other than the diner, that’s fine.

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