Three Last First Dates

by Kate O'Keeffe

  “Do you still want to go see the puppies?”

  My face broke into a grin. “Oh, yes.”

  Nash drove slowly through the wet streets, his hand in mine. I watched him, his free hand on the steering wheel, wondering how I had found such a man, a man who accepted my flaws, who was patient with me, who even liked my crazy-ass hair.

  I had to be the luckiest girl in the world.

  We arrived at Nash’s place and dashed through the rain from the driveway to his front door. He got us some towels to dry off, and I could hear the puppies crying at the living room door. I couldn’t help but grin. Although I’d only met them once, they had made a significant impression on me. They were so happy, so eager, so inquisitive. They made me warm inside in a way very few things did.

  Other than Nash.

  “Are you ready for this?” he asked, his hand on the doorknob.

  I grinned. “Definitely.”

  A moment later, the door swung wide, I was on the hardwood floor being mobbed by five enthusiastic puppies. They licked and squirmed and whined and did everything they’d done the time I’d met them, right down to the slobber on my pants.

  “Feel like a cup of coffee?” Nash offered once we and the puppies were in his living room, the door closed safely behind us.

  “Sure, that would be great.”

  With Nash in the kitchen, I returned my attention to the pups. I spotted the one I’d cuddled the last time and collected her up. I grinned at her, tickling her tummy. “You’re a gorgeous girl, aren’t you?” She wriggled in response, trying to lick my fingers.

  “She sure is,” Nash said, holding a French press, mugs, and a jug of milk on a tray. When a guy offers you coffee, you learn to expect instant, not real coffee in a French press. This guy had class.

  He placed the tray on the coffee table in front of us and picked up one of the puppies himself. “This one I’m calling Clint, because he’s such a tough guy.”

  I laughed. “He’s too cute to be tough.” The puppy on my lap wriggled off and promptly fell from the sofa and onto the floor. “Ooops!”

  “She’s all right,” Nash said, leaning down and collecting her up himself. “See?” He turned her to face me, and my heart melted afresh.

  “She has to be the cutest puppy on the planet. No offense, other puppies.”

  “I’m glad you like her. What would you like to call her?”

  “I get to name her?”

  “Well, hopefully we’ll find a good home for her to go to and they’ll name her, but until then, you can have the honors.”

  I reached for the puppy, and Nash handed her to me. As I held her close to my face, she tried to lick me, her tongue darting in and out. I said the first name that popped into my head. “Lucky. Her name is Lucky.”

  Nash turned the puppy so he was looking at her face. “Lucky, huh? Yeah, I can see that.” He placed the newly named Lucky in the pen with her mom and then proceeded to pick the rest of the litter up to follow suit. He sat back down next to me and poured some coffee into the mugs. “Just milk, right?”

  I nodded at him, smiling. He’d noticed I didn’t have sugar in my coffee.

  He handed me a mug and sat back, cradling his own in his hands. “Let’s make a plan.”

  “For what?” I took a sip of my coffee.

  “Your new singing career.”

  I almost choked. “My what?”

  “Well, your singing debut, I should say.”

  I smiled, the knot in my belly at the thought of singing for an audience not quite as tight as it had been. “I’ll have a chat to the Cozy Cottage girls tomorrow.”

  “That is a very good start.”

  I beamed at Nash over my coffee mug. Yes, Lucky was the name—for me and the dog.

  Chapter 12

  “What’s with Antoinette’s new look?” Cassie asked as she tucked into her flourless raspberry and chocolate cake at the Cozy Cottage Café a few days later. It was a stormy day, and it was nice to be safely tucked inside the welcoming café as the wind whipped the rain up outside.

  “I know, right?” I replied, my own mouth full of my favorite orange and almond syrup cake.

  “Who’s Antoinette?” Paige asked, appearing by our table, dressed in her Cozy Cottage red apron with white polka dots, her dark hair swept up into high ponytail.

  “She’s a new member of the sales team. She’s taken to wearing, ah, rather conservative clothes to work, lately,” Cassie explained tactfully.

  “Yeah, like she ran away and joined a nunnery or something,” I added, discarding Cassie’s tact and saying it like it was.

  Ever since Antoinette had first turned up in the office with her new look, she had been sporting a new and wonderful version of the same outfit each day: a baggy, full-length dress in a muted tone, flat nondescript shoes, and her hair pulled back in a severe bun. I had to hand it to the woman, she’d got an idea in her head and had run with it. The woman had commitment.

  She had been just as attentive as she’d been at our meetings before this odd transformation, taking copious notes, asking questions, and complimenting me on everything from my presentations to my administration skills.

  She was still a one-woman cheer team.

  “Huh. I wonder why? Anyway, you haven’t told us about your date with Nash, Marissa. That’s what I want to hear about,” Paige said with her eyebrows raised in expectation. “We need all the details, and fast; Bailey and I are swamped today. Sophie called in sick.”

  “Pull up a chair, then.”

  “I can give you precisely two minutes.” Paige plunked herself down, and I launched straight into it, telling my friends about the picnic and the concert, about how Nash liked my “rain hair,” and all the amazing kissing we had done on his sofa, surrounded by the dogs.

  Once I had finished, I let out a contented sigh. It really had been an epic date.

  “So, you’re totally over the dog-slobber thing?” Cassie asked.

  Dog Slobbergate felt a million years ago. “Absolutely.”

  “You really like this guy, don’t you?” Paige asked, trying—and failing—to suppress an eager grin.

  I shrugged, wanting to appear relaxed, while inside my heart rate kicked up a notch. “Yeah, he’s pretty cool.”

  “‘Pretty cool’? Just look at you, you’re in love.”

  I scoffed. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve only been out with him four times.”

  “That’s enough,” Cassie said. “When you know, you know. At least, that’s how it was with me and Will. Am I right, Paige?”

  Paige nodded, a goofy grin on her face. “Yeah, it’s true. I always thought it was just something people said, but then, with Josh, I knew they were right. It felt . . . different.”

  “So?” Cassie led.

  Was Cassie right? Was I in love with Nash? If I wasn’t, I was well on my way to being so. I looked up at my friends’ expectant faces. “I don’t know. Maybe soon?”

  Paige clapped her hands together. “Oh, the Last First Date Pact is weaving its magic once more. This is meant to be.”

  I shook my head. “Don’t you have a café to run?”

  Paige rolled her eyes. “Okay, we get the hint. We won’t push you any further.” She stood up and tucked her chair under the table. “Just, I want you to know I’m incredibly happy for you.”

  I grinned at her. They were right, it did feel different with Nash. It was calm, easy, as though we’d known each other our whole lives, when in reality it had only been a few weeks.

  I knew I was all in, boots and all.

  And I was pretty darn happy for myself, too.

  * * *

  Two coffees, one slice of flourless raspberry and chocolate cake, and one slice of orange and almond syrup cake later, Cassie and I stood up to leave. As we headed to the door, we waved at Bailey and Paige, both working behind the counter, looking like a couple of glamorous TV chefs in their matching aprons.

  “Actually, Cassie? Do you mind if you go back without me?
I need to talk to Paige and Bailey about something.”

  With Nash’s unstinting encouragement, I had decided today was the day: I was going to ask if I could sing at the café.

  “That’s very mysterious of you. Okay, see you back in the office. Remember, we’ve got that team catch-up at eleven.”

  With Cassie gone, I waited behind an older man who was taking his time deciding whether to have a slice of the rhubarb and strawberry pie or a slice of the carrot cake with cream cheese frosting. Eventually, his decision made—a slice of each—I had Bailey and Paige to myself for a moment.

  “How are the Cozy Cottage Jams going?” I asked as my heart hammered in my chest.

  “Oh, so great! We’re selling out most sessions. Want to come this Friday? Hey, bring Nash! We’d love to meet him, right, Paige?” Bailey asked as she rearranged some sugar cookies on a plate by the cash register.

  “Oh, yes! Great idea. The famous Nash, who Marissa may or may not be falling for,” Paige teased, waggling her eyebrows at me.

  I shook my head good-naturedly. “Sure, although that’s not why I wanted to talk about it.”

  “Oh?” Bailey raised her eyebrows.

  “I . . . ah, I wanted to ask you a favor.” My hands began to sweat. Wow, I was nervous!

  “Anything,” Bailey replied.

  I bit my lip. Okay, here goes nothing. “Can I perform one night? You know, just a song, maybe when you have someone else, too?”

  “Really?” Paige asked with a surprised smile. “You have a beautiful voice, but I had no idea you wanted to perform.” Paige had heard me sing at karaoke a few times, usually when we were a little trashed, which everyone knows is a prerequisite for karaoke singing.

  “Really.” I held my breath, awaiting their response.

  I watched as Bailey and Paige shared a look. What did that mean? Was it a good look? Were they wondering how to let me down gently? I noticed Paige gave her a small nod.

  Bailey turned to me. Her expression went from confused to happy. “Of course, you can! We could make it an open mic night. It’ll be fun.”

  Paige put her hands to her mouth. “Oh, my god! This is going to be so amazing!”

  My grin was as wide as my teenage jeans used to be. I leaned across the counter and gave them both an awkward hug. “Thanks, guys. I promise I won’t let you down.”

  After bidding them farewell, I walked out of the café, a mixed bag of heightened emotions: excitement, trepidation, mind-crippling fear. But above all, proud of myself. I had taken the first step to overcoming my fears and doing something I’d always wanted to do.

  And it was all because of Nash.

  * * *

  On my way to work the following morning, I decided to share my exciting news with Nash in person. Knowing he started work early, I arrived at the building site with two take-out coffees at just before seven thirty. Putting the cups on the ground by my feet, I sent off a quick text, asking him what he was up to. I got one back almost immediately.

  Working. Rather be with you. xx

  After I’d stopped grinning for a full two minutes, I replied.

  Come out to the sidewalk then. xx

  Almost as soon as I’d slipped my phone back into my purse, Nash appeared from the side of the plastic-wrapped building. Wearing his hard hat, shorts, and work boots, he looked good enough to eat. He collected me up in a hug, and I breathed in his wonderful Nash scent.

  “Hey, you,” he said, still holding me close and giving me a kiss. I kissed him back, thankful the building was now enclosed so we didn’t have an audience of gawping workmen.

  “I wanted to give you this,” I said, leaning down to pick up the coffee and handing it to him.

  “Thank you.”

  “And, I have some news.”

  He took a sip of his coffee and waited.

  “Bailey and Paige said I could perform at the café. They’re having an open mic night soon.”

  “Oh, my god! That’s awesome!” He collected me up in another hug, lifting me off the ground and spinning me around.

  “Your coffee!” I squealed, but loving his reaction nonetheless.

  He placed me back on the sidewalk. “It’s fine.” He showed me his coffee cup, lid still on, with miraculously no spillage.

  “You’re a magician.”

  “I can handle my woman and my coffee,” he said with a glint in his eye.

  I chuckled. “That you can.”

  “So, when’s the big performance?”

  I pressed my lips together as the nerves jangled inside. “Not for a few weeks, so I have plenty of time to choose my song. I’m going to need to practice. Like, really practice.”

  “You’re going to be great. Hey, let’s go to a gig on Friday night to check it out.”

  “My friends will all be there,” I replied uncertainly. Things seemed more serious when you met one another’s friends.

  “I’d like to meet them.” Nash smiled at me.

  There was a loud clanging sound emanating from the site, making me jump.

  “I’d better go and check on that,” Nash said, pulling me in for another kiss. “Thanks for the coffee and your news.”

  “You’re welcome. On both counts.”

  He took a step away from me, turned, and said, “It’s pretty cool to have a girlfriend who sings.”

  “A . . . a . . . girlfriend?” I stuttered as the air was sucked out of me. I blinked at him, my mind racing.

  “Yeah. A girlfriend,” Nash confirmed with a smile. His face changed when he took in my expression. He took a step closer to me. “Or not? Whatever. We don’t have to label this.” He put his hands on my arms. “Breathe, breathe.”

  I took a series of deep breaths, calming my nerves. It was one thing for me to begin to feel like Nash was the guy for me, it was quite another for him to say it out loud.

  “Another freak-out?” Nash asked gently.

  I nodded, not trusting my voice to speak, willing my heart rate to return to normal.

  “You okay now?”

  “I’m your girlfriend,” I said with a small smile.

  “If that’s okay with you?” he asked uncertainly. “Just, I can’t imagine wanting to date anyone else.”

  “Me neither,” I almost whispered.

  He nodded as a small smile crept across his face, our eyes locked. “Good.”

  “Good,” I confirmed. “I would like that.”

  “To be my girlfriend?”

  “Yes, to be your girlfriend.”

  We stood on the street, grinning at one another for a long moment until another loud crashing sound broke the spell. “I’ll call you.”

  I watched him walk back into the plastic-wrapped building and took a moment to collect my thoughts. We were “official” boyfriend and girlfriend.

  And it felt darn good.

  Chapter 13

  On Friday evening, I arrived home to Ryan in his usual spot, sprawled out on my lovely sofa, remote control in one hand, a beer in the other.

  “Hey, Ryan,” I said, keeping my tone light.

  He glanced up at me and almost smiled. Either that or it was wind. “Hey, sis.” He returned his attention to the screen.

  I dropped my purse on the kitchen table and plunked myself down on the sofa next to him, ignoring the mild beer stench coming from his general direction. “How was your day?” I asked, scrunching up my face.

  He let out a heavy sigh. “The usual.”

  I noticed he hadn’t changed out of his work clothes, and his shirt was now a crinkled mess. Ryan worked as an architect at a small firm in the city. Up until Amelia walked out on him, he had been a happy, driven, career-oriented man with a bright future, designing houses and small buildings around the city. And now? Now it was like he had reverted to that morose teenager I remembered when I was twelve. This was not a good thing. Something needed to be done to pull him out of his reverie—and for me to get my home back.

  “Work problems?”

  Another sigh. “No,
just . . . you know.”

  “Amelia?”

  Yet another sigh. “Yeah. She’s still with some guy; I’m still alone.”

  I bit my lip. He needed a change of subject to something less depressing. “Hey, so what are you up to tonight?”

  “This.” He indicated the TV.

  Without a second’s thought, I took the remote from his hand and flicked the TV off.

  “Hey!” he protested. “You can’t do that.”

  “Why not? It’s my TV, and you’re coming out with me.”

  “What? No, I don’t want to.”

  “I don’t care whether you want to or not, Ryan. Staying here is not an option.”

  He huffed and puffed about being a man and being responsible for his own destiny, or some such garbage.

  I ignored him as I stood up and offered him my outstretched hand. “Come on, you. Get up, have a shower, throw on some clothes. We’ve got a gig to go to.”

  As Ryan begrudgingly showered and changed, I pulled on a tunic dress and retouched my makeup. Following the rained-off concert with Nash, I had let my hair go curlier than usual. Not it’s full-on bird’s nest look, but more natural than I usually wore it. And it felt good. Different, but good.

  After some more cajoling and a drive in my car later, Ryan and I pulled into a park.

  He peered out of the passenger window. “I’m not going to enjoy it.”

  I rolled my eyes for the umpteenth time since I got home. “You don’t even know what we’re doing.”

  “Well, it can’t be any better than watching the game on TV,” he harrumphed.

  “You. Out,” I instructed as I swung my door open and stepped onto the footpath.

  Ryan did as commanded, letting out one of those heavy sighs he seemed to be perfecting. He stepped onto the sidewalk, and I straightened the shirt I had made him wear. “There. Now you look like an actual human being.”

  “Very funny, sis. Can you please tell me where we’re headed?”

  “Come with me.”

  We walked a block up the street together and rounded a corner onto a familiar road. A couple of hundred yards later, we arrived at the Cozy Cottage Café front door.