by M. R. Joseph
He shoves my hands away in a playful way.
"I just worry, is all."
I give him a reassuring smile. "I’m fine, Craw."
I don't know if I truly am, but I can't let him know that. I’m nervous as hell, but if I tell him that, it will rile him up even more, so for the person who is constantly worrying about me, I'll skip that part and keep it to myself.
***
So I’ve been cleared to drive again. No more asking Willow to pick me. At first it was a bit scary—not driving for so long—but once I started, it was like riding a bike.
I drive a few miles down the road in Princeton to Riley’s Ice Cream Shop. In my mind it seems to take forever. My hands on the steering wheel are sweaty and unsteady.
I find a parking spot a few stores down and I sit bracing the wheel once again. Breathing in slow breaths and releasing them. I tell myself; it's just ice cream, it's just frigging ice cream. I reapply the gloss Willow gave me for my lips and check my hair.
Why the hell am I doing this?
I open my car door and swing my legs out and straighten out my dress. I look down at my legs. Willow did a good job of covering up some of the bad ones with some heavy makeup, but I know they're there. I accept the fact that they are part of me now and I remember Willow telling me to embrace them, so I'll keep that in my head.
I grab my crutch from the back seat and make my way toward Riley's.
I keep my eyes straight ahead, not looking toward the street, not at the passers by, but I focus on the red and white stripped awning of the ice-cream shop. My eyes suddenly land on something that makes me momentarily stop in my tracks...Daniel.
Oh, fuck me, he's gorgeous.
He rises from one of the outdoor tables and walks a few steps to greet me. He has on jeans and a blue and white striped button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up half way. He is devastatingly handsome and he almost steals my breath.
Damn.
He reaches me and smiles with his beautiful lips. His jeweled eyes are alight with warmth and welcome.
"Oh, wow. You look…you look absolutely lovely, Miss Hannum."
Why, oh why does it do things to my belly when he calls me Miss Hannum?
"Well, thank you, Mr. Mathewson." I smile at him and his brightens even more sending my head spinning a bit.
Christ.
Smiling broadly he asks, "Shall we take a seat?" I nod and he links my arm with his and I get the shivers and a noseful of whatever his delectable scent that proves to be a heady combination.
Daniel pulls a chair out for me to sit and I rest my crutch on another chair that's at our table. He doesn't sit. He stands there looking at me, and then blinks. "Oh, I um, strawberry, right?" I’m too busy staring at his eyes, his tanned skin, and his tall, lean physique.
I think I have major problems.
I break from the trance his eyes have me under.
"Oh, yes, yes. Thank you. Ice cream, right, right."
He winks and steps away to get our ice cream. I feel my phone buzz and see it's a text from Willow.
did his British arse butter ur biscuit yet? :-) Do you need me to bring you a change of panties?
The woman is unbelievable. I’m here thirty seconds and she wants to know if I hopped in bed with him. I power down my phone with no second thought. She'll be pissed later, but oh, well. I stick it back in my purse before Daniel starts to make his way back.
He places my dish in front of me.
"I wasn't sure if you were a Jimmie or whipped cream kind of girl, so I just left it plain. I suppose I should have asked you that first." He looks a little flustered.
I let out a laugh. "Daniel, it's fine. This is absolutely perfect."
He looks up at me through his long lashes. "So is the woman sitting across from me. Really, Harlow, you look breathtakingly beautiful this evening."
Oh, sweet Lord, here come the sweats again.
I feel my cheeks heat up and it's not that I’m embarrassed. It's just that...I don't know. Jesus, I need to get a grip because I have no idea why so many thoughts are swarming through my head.
We start to eat our dessert and it's quiet for a few minutes.
"So how was supper with your family?"
I swallow my spoonful. "It was great. My sister is getting ready to give birth any second now so us all being together was great. Where is Henry?"
Daniel wipes his mouth with a napkin and places it back down on the table. "He's with my sister, Ally."
"Sister?" I question.
"Yes. She moved here with us when I decided to come live in the States. She helps take care of Henry for me. Sort of a nanny. I pay her and she lives with us."
"May I ask how old Henry is?"
You can see Daniel's face light up whenever his son’s name is spoken.
"He will be five in August, the wee lad." Daniel laughs.
"He is adorable. How do you do it though? I mean I’m sure your sister is a huge help, but raising a child on your own, it's very noble."
"Nobility has nothing to do with it unfortunately."
I feel bad for saying that the way I did and automatically begin to apologize. "Daniel, I’m sorry I didn't mean—" He grabs my hand from across the table and pats it. At that moment I feels a million goose bumps travel up my arm, to my neck, then to my chest. I can feel my nipples harden under my shirt.
Hard nipples? Someone save me. I could cut glass right now.
I shiver. "Are you cold, Harlow? Did you bring a cardigan?”
I chuckle and ask, “What’s a cardigan? Like a sweater?”
He grins at me and shakes his head as he grazes the five-o’clock shadow on his face.
Sexy.
“I’m sorry. Yes. Like a sweater with buttons down the front.”
"Um, no, no. I’m fine. Must be the ice cream making me cold."
I am a big, fat, hard-nippled liar.
Daniel let's go my hand and settles back in his chair.
"You must have a lot of questions for me," he asks.
I do, but is it rude to ask the ones I have? If he tells me to ask away, then I will. I wouldn't be surprised if had any for me. The half a cripple.
"I guess."
Grow some balls, Harlow.
I straighten up in my chair a bit.
"Yes, I do. When did you decide to come to America?"
His eyes look down to the table and he scratches at the five o'clock shadow on his face.
"My wife, Emily, was killed in a car accident two years ago. Henry was almost three. He doesn't really remember her. Only from pictures and video."
My heart sinks and I look at Daniel's face and the pain that still resides there when he speaks of her.
"Henry was in the car. I could have lost him as well."
"Daniel, I’m so sorry. I won't pry anymore. I can see it's painful for you." I feel a bit uncomfortable and only because I know about all kinds of pain, but this pain is unspeakable.
He smiles at me. No matter the pain he is still in, his eyes sparkle.
"No, no. It's okay. Can't change things. I feel blessed that Henry was fine. Not a scratch on him."
"Thank God," I reply.
"I taught at a secondary school in Manchester for a few years but everywhere I went or no matter what I did, everything reminded me of the accident. It reminded me of Emily and it reminded me of what could have happened to Henry. I tried to stay. I even thought about moving to Ireland where Emily's father lives, but I just needed a complete change. A whole new life. A new beginning of sorts. Know what I mean?"
If he only knew.
I nod. "Please, continue."
"I have a few friends that live in Chicago, but I wanted to be a little closer to the East Coast. Don't ask me why I picked Jersey." He laughs and I laugh along with him.
"I have to say I have no idea why either. But it's not so bad here. I’ve grown up here. It's my home."
"Well, now it's mine, too." He winks and grabs my empty ice cream bowl and gets up
to throw it in the trash and my eyes go immediately to his ass.
Christ on a cracker, maybe Willow was right. I must be horny.
The conversation flows well between us. We talk like old friends. He tells me how he applied to teach in Jersey, Pennsylvania, and New York. Grayson-Elders offered him the most money, so he took the job. He tells me Henry goes to pre-school a few days a week for a few hours a day and his sister Ally, who is twenty, takes online college courses. She'll physically go to a college once Henry is in Kindergarten in the fall. His parents, who had been married for forty years, passed away after he and Emily got married. Mom passed away first, dad died of a broken heart six months later. He raised Ally through the worst of the teenage rebellion years. She grew up when Emily died he told me. He plays football, which in England is soccer. My mind goes to the gutter and I imagine what his legs look like in soccer shorts.
Focus, Harlow, focus.
The night air is getting a bit chiller and an hour later we are still sitting outside of Riley's. I feel the fall air start to set in and my legs start to ache. I reach down to rub them without him looking. I’m trying to look inconspicuous, but as I raise my hand from under the table and pull it back up, my hand is covered in the cake-like makeup Willow used on my legs to cover my scars. I grab for a napkin on the table and quickly bring it back underneath to wipe my hands free of it. Daniel looks at me, knowing I’m doing something under the table.
"Are you okay, Harlow?"
I nod.
"Do you...um are you ready to go or um...?"
He's stumbling over his words and I look at him confused because he wants to say something. I'll make it a bit easier for him ’cause for the first time in a very long time, I don't want this night to end.
"Daniel, how long do you have Ally watching Henry for?"
"Till ten-ish I believe. Why?"
My bravery has taken over what my mind tells me to do because I don't think too straight now-a-days anyway. So I dig the balls that I have suddenly grown since August, and I ask. Why the hell not? What do I have to lose?
"Would you like to go get a drink before you have to get home?"
Daniel's smile is pure, heartfelt, and so fucking sexy my inner slut bag wouldn't mind it if he started making mad, passionate love to me on this table in front of all these customers.
Hot flash!
His lips curl up in a grin and the chill of the night air no longer exists because I am nothing but hot all over.
***
Daniel and I don't travel far. A small bar around the corner for Riley's is where we land. The whole way here, Daniel had my purse in his hand as well as my elbow to make sure passers by didn't knock me down. Just like in the hallway. We order beers. I surprised him with my beer order. He didn't take me for a beer drinker. We sit at the actual bar on stools. Daniel helped me up onto it once we realized all the tables were taken.
When our beers are served, he raises his glass, which in turn makes me do the same.
"Cheers," he says and smiles at me.
He puts down his beer and turns his stool more toward me. He leans his elbow onto the bar and cradles his head in his hand.
"So, you know about my dead wife, my dead parents, my lustrous teaching career, my child, but I know so very little about you, Miss Hannum."
It's been a long time since I’ve gotten to know anyone like this. Asking questions back and forth. It's fun, it's exciting, it's new.
I think.
"Well, what could you possibly want to know about me?"
I’m being coy and he throws his head back in laughter, and it's simple, and adorable.
"Oh, I think there's plenty to learn about you, Harlow."
I take a few sips of beer and reach for the mental 'balls' between my legs.
'Well, besides my near-death experience?" He chuckles. "Let's see. I graduated top of my class, summa cum laude. I have lived in Princeton my whole life. I have always wanted to be a teacher. I can't remember the names of any of the pets I have had nor do remember, on occasion, the one my parents have now. I have wonderful parents, an older sister and a younger brother. They are my life."
He shakes his head, and his face scrunches up like he stumbled upon a math problem he can't solve.
"Wait, what? You can't remember pet’s names? I’m totally lost here. Care to explain?"
I laugh as I take a drink and almost choke because he looks so frigging sexy asking me to explain.
"I’m sorry. I slipped that in there, didn't I? I have what they call Retrograde Amnesia. Since waking from my coma, I can't remember things from my past since. I remember bits and pieces of things. Some memories may come back in full, others may never be recovered."
He inches his stool a little closer to mine, his eyes inquisitive, full of wonder. He's close enough to smell, and at this point, I’m squeezing my thighs together because if he comes even an inch closer, I may...well I'd hate to sound like Willow, but I may have to excuse myself and do a panty change. She warned me to take a spare pair. Did I listen?
That would be a big, fat no.
"Retrograde Amnesia? Huh? I knew you had been in a coma, but not how it happened."
"Well, there's more."
"More?" His eyebrows shoot up.
I lift up the side of my hair to reveal my pretty pink scar I received from flipping over and hitting my head on the opposing boat.
"There's this." I show him. "And then there are these." I point to the scars on my legs.
Big change from a few hours ago when I was trying to cover them up.
"Both of which I do not recall happening. The scar on my head was from the other boat we hit, the scars on my legs they think were from parts of an abandoned boat under the water that my legs were rubbing against while I was unconscious."
He scratches at his chin. "Hmm."
"Hmm, what?"
"I didn't notice the scars until you just pointed them out to me."
His lip turns up in a smirk. I look at him and give him a look of who-are-you-kidding?
I don't know him well enough, so I can't tell if he is lying or not, but I’m pretty sure he is.
"That's ’cause Willow decided to do some movie makeup magic tonight on my legs."
Daniel peers down, takes a look, maybe lingers there a little too long, and picks his head back up.
"Did she do a good job? I’m none the wiser."
He shrugs after I give him an eye roll. He signals the bartender for two more beers.
"And I’m pretty sure you're the world's biggest bullshitter, too."
He places his hand on his heart and makes a hurtful expression.
"Miss Hannum, are you insinuating that I am a liar? That hurts, really hurts."
Could he be more adorable with his puppy-dog face with eyes as bright as stars?
He rolls up his shirtsleeve a little more and shows me a shiny pink scar about three inches long.
"Fishing accident. Slippery little bugger wouldn't allow me to unhook him, so the hook ripped through my skin when I finally got it out of his mouth."
I nod. "That's impressive."
I show him a small scar I have on the inside of my wrist from when I was a kid and I was baking with my mother. I remember it only because I always thought it was a lesson I learned never to bake again.
"Baking accident."
He looks at me with surprise, his jaw dropping and he partially covers his eyes with his hands, peering from between his fingers to see my reaction.
"Oh, my! That's the worst scar I have ever seen in my life. It's literally hideous. I can't even look at you. It's down right frightening. It's simply disastrous."
I can't stop laughing. The way he says what he says, in that accent, it's comical. He's being kind. He's seen the scars on my legs. They are the hideous ones.
"Daniel, I know you saw the scars in the hallway the other day. It's okay. I’ve learned a lot about accepting what happened to me. I have to take things one day at a time. Accepting the scars
is a new one for me. Only about a few hours old, actually."
He looks at me confused, staying quiet, then raises up slightly from his barstool to get close to my ear and whispers, "Then there's no sense covering them up with silly makeup. They're a part of you. I think they are perfect, like you."
His closeness—mixed with a combination of beer, bar nuts, ice cream, and whatever body wash he used today—sends my head into a whirlwind of lurid thoughts, my skin alive with tingly sensations, and my panties…. Yes, dampness. Damn you, Willow. She knows me too well.
When he pulls back from my ear his cheek grazes mine in a slow, methodical way, stopping to where his full, scrumptious lips are only a few short breaths away from mine. My heart beats uncontrollably, my palms, oh, too far gone with sweat to even try and wipe them on my dress. I grip the stool I’m sitting on preparing myself for what I think is coming next. He's going to kiss me. I want him to kiss me. I need him to kiss me.
I look at him out of the corner of my eye. He's deciding what to do. Lingering there, his eyes search my face, and all I have to do is turn my head and our lips will fuse together.
Just turn your head, Harlow, and let him kiss you, damn it. Turn your freaking head.
But I don't because when Daniel says, “Harlow,” in a breathless, sexy, deeply toned way, his phone begins to ring on the bar. He shuts his eyes and our foreheads suddenly rest upon each other’s.
We both shut our eyes.
"I need to um...get that."
I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear, feeling a bit shy, and frustrated, and even a bit embarrassed.
Daniel picks up the phone.
"Hello, Ally darling. How's Hen? Oh, bugger. I totally lost track of time. Okay, okay. I'll be home in ten minutes. I’m so sorry, Ally. Okay, I love you, too. Thanks, darling."
He hits end on the phone and places it back on the bar. Looking up at me with just his eyes.
"I’m sorry, Harlow. I lost track of time and Ally, my sister, she has plans, so I need to go. May I please walk you to your car?"
I smile at him and he offers me his hand to get off the stool. I oblige and he grabs my crutch and my purse. We slowly walk out of the bar, down Main Street, not speaking, but every now and again catching one or the other exchanging glances. When we reach my car, the racing of my heart starts to pick up again. I don't want this night to end. Even though we just talked and got to know each other, I don't want to go home. I want to stay and learn more about him. I want to know about Henry, and so much more.
