“Honey, people only spoke out against you when you started to take a wrong turn. But you were smart enough to hand the wheel over to someone else.”
“Thanks for that.” Ramona nodded, although she hadn’t heard a single word he’d said after “honey.”
“Now that you’re not running again, what are you going to do?”
Ramona shrugged. “Move.”
“Where?”
“I haven’t decided yet.” She frowned. The look in Quincy’s eyes and the tone of his voice were guarded. What had he wanted her to say?
Quincy tightened his grip on the arms of Ramona’s cushioned guest chair. He didn’t want her to know he was growing desperate at the thought of her leaving Trinity Falls, and the possibility he’d never see her again.
His shrug felt unnatural. “There’s no rush, is there?”
“Of course not. I don’t have a timetable. Besides, I don’t want to move in the middle of winter.”
“Good.” The word emerged with more force than Quincy had intended.
A glimmer of a smile twinkled in Ramona’s ebony eyes. “I’m glad you approve.”
Act cool. “Since you don’t have a timetable or a particular city in mind, maybe you’ll consider Philadelphia in the spring.”
She gave him another one of her long, slow blinks that mesmerized him. “Philadelphia?
With you? Has Penn offered you the job?”
“No.” Quincy struggled to put the brakes on his accelerating anxiety. “But the telephone interview went well. I’m hopeful they’ll invite me for an on-campus interview in the spring.”
“I thought you didn’t want me to follow you to Philadelphia.”
“I didn’t say—”
“I can paraphrase what you said.” She crossed her arms again. “You said—and I’m practically quoting now—that I was an independent, capable, intelligent woman, who would do fine on her own.”
“Yes, that’s what I said.”
“So have you changed your mind? Am I no longer a capable, independent, intelligent woman? Do I need you now?”
Quincy rubbed his hands over his face. He felt her rising tension. Why was it so hard for him to communicate with her? Because I’m afraid.
He tried harder. “I didn’t want you to move to Philadelphia with me if you were only interested in Philadelphia, not me.”
Ramona tilted her head, causing her loose raven tresses to slide to her right shoulder. “Are you asking me to move to Philadelphia with you so that we could live together? Before we’ve even dated?”
“We’ve been on a date.” His palms were starting to sweat. “I brought you food from Trinity Falls Cuisine; salmon, your favorite.”
She laughed at him. “Eating takeout in my dining room is not a date.”
Quincy briefly considered texting Darius for advice. He was certain the reporter would know how to handle this volatile situation. “What would you consider a date, then?”
Irritation was edging out amusement in her eyes. “Quincy, you’re thirty-two years old. I’m sure you’ve been on at least one first date in your life. And I’m sure it didn’t involve eating salmon out of a Styrofoam container.”
His cheeks were growing warm. “No, it didn’t.”
“I’m talking roses, music, a meal with silverware and plates. A kiss.”
“A kiss”? Quincy stood and strode around her desk as Ramona continued her list. She was up to tablecloths and fancy clothes. But she came to an abrupt stop when he spun her seat to face him and gripped the arms on either side of her chair. Her eyes widened as he lowered his mouth to hers.