by Ellie Danes
“I’m not so sure,” she said, her voice tight.
“What about when it’s time for you to move to California?” I didn’t like to think about her moving, not just as I was finally getting to know her, but maybe the thought of escape could ease her mood.
“I used to think he’d get over it then because he’d miss me, but now I don’t know.”
“He’s really that stubborn?”
She scoffed. “That’s putting it mildly.”
I laughed. “So why were you fighting about your sister? Claire, was it?”
She smiled and gulped. Not a single tear had fallen from the brims of her eyes. I was honestly proud. I wasn’t even sure I could hold back tears like this girl could. She was a fucking champion if I had ever seen one.
“She skips school, gets bad grades — and it’s all costing money, and it seems to him like the money is being wasted.” She reached out for the water glass on the table. I couldn’t help but be a little mesmerized as she brought it to her lips—those beautiful, beautiful lips…
They were plump, luscious, and begging to be kissed. They puckered against the rim of the glass as she took a sip.
“So it’s on his dime, and he doesn’t want to put out for it anymore?” I asked. The compassionate part of me thought it was a real dick move. Any dad worth a damn would try and understand the problem. But the business side of me — the logical and practical side — understood exactly where he was coming from. Why would you continue to pay for a good education if it wasn’t being utilized? That was throwing money away, and I might not have wanted to know much about business, but I knew that throwing money away wasn’t the wisest thing to do. Lost causes were lost causes, and a good businessperson cut them loose as soon as possible.
But I could only hope that when the time came for me to be a father, I would look past that shitty thinking and hold onto my compassionate side. Sadly, that side was buried probably a lot deeper than I even realized — but I could only hope that I would be able to unearth it when the time came.
“See, that’s the thing,” Kate said. “I pay for the school. He gave up on her going to a good school a long time ago.”
Yeah. Her dad sounded like a world class asshole. What kind of person would be okay with their just-graduated daughter paying a private school tuition for their other daughter? Especially considering the younger daughter was his responsibility until she was out of high school.
“Anyway, let’s not ruin our date,” she said with a forced smile. “My dad is my dad, but he shouldn’t ruin my entire day.”
“Are you sure?” I didn’t want her to drop anything she wanted to talk about. I’d just met her a few days ago, but for some reason, I was perfectly fine listening to her talk about anything and everything — I actually wanted to hear whatever she had to say.
“No, I’m completely sure.” She laughed, her mood finally shifting. “Thanks for letting me talk as much as I did about it.”
“No ‘thanks’ needed.” I sat up straighter and grabbed my menu. “I like when you talk; I want to get to know you.”
I couldn’t believe how lame it sounded when I said it out loud. I couldn’t believe how little game I really did have. This wasn’t like me. Something about her flustered me and kept me on edge, and damn it all if it didn’t make me sound like a fool.
“Well, then I guess we’ll just have to talk all about me, then,” she said with a smirk. “And definitely not my dad.”
I couldn’t help but watch as she opened up the menu and began scanning it. The deep green of her eyes could keep me mesmerized for years. If I was being poetic, I might say that they were like a sea I could get lost in. They really were the most beautiful things I had ever seen — along with her beautiful red hair.
I smirked. Green eyes, red hair. She was like a walking Christmas card. I usually hated Christmas colors — but for her, they worked. And on her, the colors looked damn good. Just like everything else on her did.
We talked some more, and our conversation went from the menu to jokes, and then back to the menu. The waitress took our orders, but I barely even paid attention to what I said to her. I didn’t pay attention to what I wanted to order. Not really. I loved the place. I’d memorized the menu backward and forwards. It was a small menu, anyway. But even though I did love their food, I didn’t care about eating.
Not this time—I was too wrapped up in our conversation.
I was learning so much about Kate — her hopes, her dreams, and what she hoped to accomplish in San Diego. I felt so incredibly comfortable with her that I felt like I already knew her. It was crazy, but she made me feel something different, something special.
We chatted and sipped our drinks, and I hardly tasted my beer. At one point, I found silence wafting through the air, but it wasn’t a tense or awkward silence. It was an understood, and almost too comfortable, silence. It was too comfortable considering we had only met recently. Who was ever that comfortable sitting in silence at such an early stage in a relationship or friendship?
In that silence, I cleared my throat. “I think I should admit something.”
I wasn’t exactly sure why I was talking. I wanted to shut myself up because I knew what I wanted to say.
But I couldn’t hold in the words. “The truth is, is that I’ve been thinking about you a lot lately.”
I hadn’t even finished a single beer yet, but it was still like something had a hold of me. It was like something was making me talk. Kate—the human truth serum.
She smiled, and a small blush formed on her cheeks. She was so fucking adorable and sexy I almost couldn’t stand it.
“I feel like I see you everywhere,” I blurted, as I fingered my water glass. “I hope you don’t think I’m a stalker or anything. I haven’t really been seeing you everywhere; I just think I do.”
Yeah, that was worse than being a stalker — at least to me it was. I was just a pathetic basket case obsessed with a woman I barely knew or had barely even spoken to.
“No,” she said with a laugh. “I get what you mean.”
I sighed in relief.
She continued, “I’ve been seeing you everywhere, too — even the strangest places.”
I smiled. Well, at least she hadn’t been completely scared off by my sudden crazy confession. That was a plus.
At that moment, something shifted. It wasn’t just me trying to lamely impress a woman I didn’t know. It wasn’t just me wondering why the hell I cared so much. It wasn’t anything but me looking at her and her looking at me. It made something click. It was a moment people always talked about — a moment I pretty much thought was bullshit — where I was just captured. It was a feeling I really had never experienced before. I was so there with her. I was so engaged.
I was filled with so much emotion, and it was all so sudden. I really liked this girl. So much that I almost felt like a teenager, all giddy and hopelessly romantic. I didn’t have a clue what was coming over me.
“I think we could have something, as crazy as that sounds,” I said. It really was crazy—we didn’t even know each other’s last names for fuck’s sake! But I didn’t care — all of that would come in time.
I just knew that I had to get to know her, that I would take whatever time and measures necessary to make this work. I would do whatever necessary to ensure her happiness, and I hoped to god that her happiness involved me somehow.
I just wanted to be around her.
I scooted my chair closer to her and reached beneath the table. My hand searched for her knee, and I found it. I gripped it firmly, but gently at the same time, and I couldn’t help but notice how good her warmth felt against the palm of my hand.
It was so much better and grander than anything I had ever imagined. My hand on her knee was real, and not just a construct of my imagination.
She stiffened, and I felt her leg flex just before she shivered. I smiled. It was like a tingle had run down her spine. I knew that was what she was feeling because I had felt
the exact same thing when my hand made contact with her leg. Electricity shot through my body.
We had chemistry.
I leaned in, not really sure what had suddenly come over me. She didn’t flinch or move away. Instead, her eyes closed and she leaned in, too. I felt her breath against my chin as we moved closer, inching in for the kiss we both had clearly been waiting for.
But all of a sudden the sound of a woman’s throat clearing came from just over my shoulder, causing us to jolt away from one another. I turned to see the waitress standing there with our food.
Normally, I would have shrugged it off and called the waitress a cock-blocker, but not today. At the moment, that description wouldn’t have been even the slightest bit correct, because she’d blocked something far more intense, far more important than a sexual conquest.
Even though I was really hungry and as much as I did want my food, I wanted to kiss Kate much, much more.
Chapter 13
Kate
I picked at my food, barely noticing what I had eaten, or whether the waitress ever showed up to refill my water. I was enthralled with our date and with him. It was perfect. He was perfect. Almost too perfect if that was possible. Nothing else mattered except Ian and his amazing eyes.
He was probably the smoothest guy I’d ever talked to, even compared to my slimy ex. But that wasn’t the only thing that made the date so fantastic. What really made it great was that we just seemed to…click. It was like I was talking to someone I had known a whole lot longer than just a few days. It was the fact that he was so good at getting me out of my own head — which was something I desperately needed ever since moving back home and saying adios to my freedom.
It’d been a long, and extremely angry cab ride just to meet up with him, but I was so glad that I’d done it. I was glad to be out. I was glad to be sitting in front of a man as gorgeous as him. Hell, I was just glad to be free for a second.
Honestly, I wished I’d gotten here quicker, that I’d somehow been able to enjoy the date longer.
Probably would have happened if I’d just taken advantage of my father’s driver. But I couldn’t. No matter how much I wanted to at times. Sure, it was nice to have someone at your beck and call; someone to take you wherever you wanted, whenever you wanted. It was especially nice not having to dig into my pockets and pay for the lift myself.
Cabs were expensive, especially now that I was going to have to get used to a teacher’s salary. I needed to save every dime I could.
I knew logically that using my dad’s driver would have made sense, but something kept me from it. Something kept me from just giving in and taking the hand-out. And that was nothing but pride. It might have been my downfall, but I’d never live it down if I didn’t have some sort of gumption about me.
He’d never let it go if I continued to take his hand-outs after I graduated. He’d say something along the lines of me always leaning on him, and how poor teachers were, and how I couldn’t even afford a cab — I knew I’d hear it.
It might not be the first time I took a ride. It might not be the second time I took a ride. But eventually, I was bound to hear it.
So I’d made a vow to myself when I got out of college.
I wasn’t going to take anything from him, other than a temporary place to stay. God knew that was bad enough. But nothing else. Not even if he insisted.
It was a quaint little restaurant. It had a nice patio, which I’d noticed immediately as we pulled up. It was so nice that it made me hate winter in New York even more — like I needed another reason.
"This food is amazing!” I blurted, finally able to taste my food as I watched him take a bite. I hadn't meant to yell, and I really didn't mean to do it with food in my mouth. I’d been trying to keep my cool for fear of scaring him off before he even got to know me. And there I was, food half-masticated in my mouth, talking about how damned delicious everything was. But it was just that good.
I hoped to god he liked a woman with an appetite because I was starved, and the food on my plate was damned good. It was just a simple Mediterranean plate, but it probably had the best marinades I’d ever had in my life.
“Sorry,” I whispered, covering my mouth with my hand.
“You don’t have to whisper,” he said, his eyes glazing over with amusement. “It’s not a library. The big bad wolf librarian isn’t going to come eat you.”
He was mocking me, but I didn’t mind. Just like I hoped he wouldn’t mind if I played with him a bit. “Didn’t the big bad wolf have to blow houses down first?”
“Yes?” he asked, confused.
“So he didn’t eat the pigs.”
“He blew them down so that he could eat the pigs,” he said with a laugh.
“Not necessarily.”
“What do you mean not necessarily?” he shot, his brows furrowing. “What other reason would there be to blow down a house if you’re a wolf?”
“Things change, depending on the story. There are different versions, new information. They change the outcome.”
“Right,” he said. “So in some other fairy tale version, the pigs live?”
“They could,” I grinned, glad that there wasn’t any awkwardness after the near-kiss we’d just had. Our conversation was flowing naturally, although there was an undercurrent of sexual tension.
There seemed to be a whole world of really great conversation between us, and we hadn’t even scratched the surface. We hadn’t even gotten into the nitty-gritty of him yet. Just light-hearted conversation about movies, music, and the generic stuff that everyone else seemed to talk about on dates. But that was perfectly fine with me. After this latest round with my dad, I needed the ease of a lighthearted conversation.
It seemed to be a dose of what the doctor ordered, in fact. I’d been laughing and carrying on — completely forgetting about the troubles I’d had for the past few days. It was great, and I was just about to thank him for being such a wonderful distraction when all of a sudden, a man approached. He was dressed in a nice gray vest and matching pants.
Ian smiled and glanced up with nothing but pure friendliness as soon as the man reached us. I glanced up, too—but instead of a smile, like Ian had, my mouth was open, shocked at the man’s appearance.
If any man could ever hold a candle to Ian, it would be this man. He was tall, slender, had short blond hair, and a short, stubbly beard. He looked like David Beckham, who’d played the starring role in many a soccer game…as well as my fantasies. “How’s everything over here?”
I almost swooned as soon as he spoke. He had an English accent, like Beckham!
“It’s just great,” Ian said kindly, still smiling. It was a fake smile. Not because he wasn’t fine with the guy’s presence. I could tell that he wasn’t bothered by it. But it seemed overly nice. Forced.
“Great. If the two of you need anything, just let me know. My name is Michael and I’m the manager,” he said.
“Thanks very much, Michael,” Ian continued to grin as the man nodded and walked away.
“Jesus, Kate,” he whispered, his obviously fake smile breaking into a normal Ian smirk. “Pick up your bottom lip…you’re drooling all over the table.”
I had to hand it to him. He was being a good sport. To say I wasn’t checking the guy out would have been an outright lie. But the truth of the matter was, Ian was hotter. I didn’t know what it was. Hell, maybe it was even the fact that he was so cool with me looking at another man, so confident and unworried about it, that pushed Ian’s appeal over the edge. But there was something about him.
“Man, I just loved his accent,” I sighed, dreamily, holding my chin in the palm of my hands. I was joking, and I hoped he knew that. But even if he didn’t, I was having far too much fun to care.
“Well, damn. Let me create a mood for you, then,” he said with a smile.
“What do you mean—” I began, but just as I was asking, he spoke.
“This date is quite lovely,” he said in a terrible mocking
English accent. “Cheerio, good-day to you, Lass!”
“Oh…wow,” I said, choking on the air around me. “You don’t really believe you sounded legitimately English, do you?”
His mouth fell open in mock offense. “I’m shocked!” he gasped as a crooked smile pulled at his lips. “Wait, let me try something else.” He cleared his throat. “I’m a wee leprechaun — stay away from me Lucky Charms!”
“Oh god,” I groaned. “Well, I’m not sure Ireland and England are the same things, but I’ll let your terrible sense of geography go for now.”
“Thanks!” he said brightly. “So tell me about yourself, Kathryn,” he prompted after clearing his throat to speak formally. I could tell that he was joking. He had to be, considering we’d already spent a large part of the date talking about me.
I cringed at the name, though. No one called me Kathryn. Not unless it was my dad on a really shitty day or Claire’s school principal.
“I really wish Ian was short for something,” I muttered, and I watched as a cocky grin formed along the corners of his lips, but I knew by the look on his face that he really did expect me to continue.
“Well, I’ve already told you a little about myself. I’m not sure what else to say.”
“What do you like to do for fun?” he asked. “You know, when you’re not stalking me at Starbucks or saving the world by teaching the future generation.”
“Well, that’s pretty much all I do — except for taking care of Claire.” I laughed, realizing how lame I must sound.
“Wow. Well, we’ll have to change that,” he said.
“Hold your horses, cowboy. Who says you get to have any say in what I do?” I asked, amused.
“Touché,” he said with a laugh and took a sip of his drink. “So you really don’t like New York at all? You’re not going to miss it like crazy when you head off to the west coast?”
