Local Hero

her—almost.
    The nerves were there. She stood in front of the bureau mirror and took a few long, deep breaths. Yes, there were nerves, but they weren’t the stomach-roiling sort she experienced when she went on job interviews. Though she wasn’t quite sure where her feelings lay when it came to Mitch Dempsey, she was glad to be certain she wasn’t afraid.
    Picking up her brush, she studied her reflection as she smoothed her hair. She didn’t look nervous, Hester decided. That was another point in her favor. The black wool dress was flattering with its deep cowl neck and nipped-in waist. The red slash of belt accented the line before the skirt flared out. For some reason, red gave her confidence. She considered the bold color another kind of defense for a far-from-bold person.
    She fixed oversized scarlet swirls at her ears. Like most of her wardrobe, the dress was practical. It could go to the office, to a PTA meeting or a business lunch. Tonight, she thought with a half smile, it was going on a date.
    Hester tried not to dwell on how long it had been since she’d been on a date, but comforted herself with the fact that she knew Mitch well enough to keep up an easy conversation through an evening. An adult evening. As much as she adored Radley, she couldn’t help but look forward to it.
    When she heard the knock, she gave herself a last quick check, then went to answer. The moment she opened the door, her confidence vanished.
    He didn’t look like Mitch. Gone were the scruffy jeans and baggy sweatshirts. This man wore a dark suit with a pale blue shirt. And a tie. The top button of the shirt was open, and the tie of dark blue silk was knotted loose and low, but it was still a tie. He was clean-shaven, and though some might have thought he still needed a trim, his hair waved dark and glossy over his ears and the collar of his shirt.
    Hester was suddenly and painfully shy.
    She looked terrific. Mitch felt a moment’s awkwardness himself as he looked at her. Her evening shoes put her to within an inch of his height so that they were eye to eye. It was the wariness in hers that had him relaxing with a smile.
    “Looks like I picked the right color.” He offered her an armful of red roses.
    She knew it was foolish for a woman of her age to be flustered by something as simple as flowers. But her heart rushed up to her throat as she gathered them to her.
    “Did you forget your line again?” he murmured.
    “My line?”
    “Thank you.”
    The scent of the roses flowed around her, soft and sweet. “Thank you.”
    He touched one of the petals. He already knew her skin felt much the same. “Now you’re supposed to put them in water.”
    Feeling a great deal more than foolish, Hester stepped back. “Of course. Come in.”
    “The apartment feels different without Rad,” he commented when Hester went to get a vase.
    “I know. Whenever he goes to a sleepover, it takes me hours to get used to the quiet.” He’d followed her into the kitchen. Hester busied herself with arranging the roses. I am a grown woman, she reminded herself, and just because I haven’t been on a date since high school doesn’t mean I don’t remember how.
    “What do you usually do when you have a free evening?”
    “Oh, I read, watch a late movie.” She turned with the vase and nearly collided with him. Water sloshed dangerously close to the top of the vase.
    “The eye’s barely noticeable now.” He lifted a fingertip to where the bruise had faded to a shadow.
    “It wasn’t such a calamity.” Her throat had tightened. Grown woman or not, she found herself enormously glad that the vase of roses was between them. “I’ll get my coat.”
    After carrying the roses to the table beside the sofa, Hester went to the closet. She slipped one arm into the sleeve before Mitch came up behind her to help her finish. He made such an ordinary task sensual, she thought as she stared straight ahead. He brushed his hands over her shoulders, lingered, then trailed them down her arms before bringing them up again to gently release her hair from the coat collar.
    Hester’s hands were balled into fists as she turned her head. “Thank you.”
    “You’re welcome.” With his hands on her shoulders, Mitch turned her to face him. “Maybe you’ll feel better if we get this out of the way now.” He kept his hands where they were and touched his lips, firm and warm, to hers. Hester’s rigid hands went lax. There was nothing demanding or passionate