“I’ve got this.”

“It’s not a date,” she answered.

He smiled. “I know. But I can write it off. It’s probably harder for you.”

“That’s true. There is no budget at the library for meals or entertainment. Not even for technology.”

Troy placed several twenties on the table. “Which will change when Margaret’s gone in June.”

“I hope so.” Taylor glanced from the bills to Troy’s chest, where the snug Henley hit, just beneath his collarbone, exposing taut tone muscle and golden skin. He was obviously able to get some sun in California. Lucky man.

And then suddenly before she even knew she’d committed to the idea, she blurted, “Troy, I was thinking about the ball.”

“I’m not surprised. You’ve been working very hard on the committee.”

“I meant. I was thinking about…” Her voice faded. Her courage faded. She couldn’t do it. Couldn’t put herself back out there. It was too embarrassing. And she shouldn’t be going to the ball. She’d already told both Jane and Troy that. To change her mind now showed lack of stability and judgment. Besides, he might have already found a date.

That stopped her cold.

She studied him, taking in his straight nose, the high cheekbones and his firm mobile mouth quirking in a half-smile. He was so masculine and relaxed… so confident.

She was not.

She’d never had his self-assurance. “Were you able to find a date?” she asked, thinking it was one thing to talk books and technology and historical renovation with him. It was another to discuss… dates. “I was certain you would. Just wanted to be sure. I hate to think I’ve left you in the lurch.”

The corners of his lips curved higher. “Haven’t found another date yet, no.”

Her heart fell. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s my fault. I haven’t asked anyone else.”

“Why not?”

“I wanted to go with you.”

Her pulse jumped. “I see.”

“You do?”

“Yes.”

But she didn’t, and Taylor almost kicked herself under the table for saying things she didn’t mean, because she didn’t see. She didn’t understand.