by Donna Alward
“So are you. And I want to see you happy. We can hang out later if you want. I can’t indulge in any wine, but I can make a wicked Virgin Daiquiri and we can sit in the garden and chill.”
“That sounds good.”
“Okay. Now, you get back to work and so will I, and I’ll see you later.”
Willow leaned over and gave Laurel a quick hug. “Thank you, sweetie. You were just what I needed today.”
“Hey, I’m happy to finally return the favor.”
Willow’s steps were lighter as she made her way back to The Purple Pig. Laurel was right. She wasn’t the same lost girl she’d been back then. Why shouldn’t she go on a simple date and have a good time? This was only a big deal because she was making it out to be one.
It all sounded perfect, except she could still remember the feel of his lips on hers, and the way he tasted, and the touch of his hand on her hip.
* * *
Thursday was rainy and cool, so Willow dressed in jeans and a cute top, gathered with elastic at the hem and neckline but with flowy sleeves. Pink and purple butterflies danced on the white background. She gathered her hair in a semi-messy top knot and added a simple necklace, then the barest of makeup essentials—a little powder, a flick of mascara and a swipe of tinted gloss.
Normally, this time of day would be dusk, but because of the overcast skies, it was darker and felt later. Willow looked out her window at the street below, watching for Ethan’s SUV. Her shirt wasn’t the only thing with butterflies. Her stomach was fluttering so badly she nearly felt ill.
“It’s just a single date,” she reminded herself, and took three deep breaths. Then his SUV pulled up to the curb and the delicate fluttering became a stampede.
Should she rush down to meet him? Or let him come up and get her at the door? She bit on her lip, trying to decide, and in the end, waited too long. He tapped on the door and she grabbed her purse and went to answer.
“Hi!” She opened the door with a cheerful greeting and damned near swallowed her tongue.
He wore faded jeans with some dark leather shoes, and a black waterproof jacket that made his shoulders look massive. The very end of his cast stuck out of the sleeve, reminding her that he was still injured. And his hair … the rain had darkened it to nearly mahogany. It made his blue eyes stand out like bluebells in a field.
“Nice weather for ducks, isn’t it?” he commented, giving her a smile.
She could do this. She could make small talk. Be flippant. “They’ll all be swimming in the creek and heading for the Kissing Bridge. Do you know I saw a mama duck taking her ducklings across in the spring? It was so cute.”
There was small talk and there was babbling and she feared she’d just crossed the line.
“The boys would have loved that. They love watching the ducks. When they slow down long enough, that is.”
Connor and Ronan. Safe topic. “They have a sitter tonight?”
He nodded. “Yes. A teenager from down the street.” His cheeks colored a bit. “I didn’t want to get the third degree from my family about tonight. I figured a babysitter was a better idea than asking my mom or one of my sisters.”
So maybe they were both a little chicken. She wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or if it made her even more nervous.
He smiled a little bigger. “Um … maybe we can get going. It’s wet out here.”
“Oh my gosh, of course!” She shut the door behind her and locked it, her knees wobbling as he stepped aside on the small landing, letting her pass by and go down the stairs first.
She held the railing and called herself an idiot.
Ethan opened the car door for her and she hopped inside, then fastened her seatbelt while he got in the driver’s side. His jacket was speckled with raindrops, and he looked over at her and smiled again. “You look scared to death. Are you?”
Her cheeks heated and she nodded. “A bit. Which is ridiculous. It’s a movie.”
He sat back against the seat and rested his hands on the wheel, even though he had yet to start the engine. “Would you rather not go, Willow?”
She hesitated, then saw the tiniest flicker as the muscle in his jaw tightened. She thought about what Laurel had said. Thought about how hard it must have been for him to even ask. The last thing she wanted to do was hurt his feelings. “I just haven’t done this in a long time,” she murmured, looking down at her lap. “I mean … go on a date. I think I’ve forgotten how.”
Her last relationship hadn’t even really started as dates. They’d met in yoga class. Got coffee a few times. He’d walked her home, kissed her, they’d fallen into a relationship in a series of steps that hadn’t really involved dating as such. It had started as sharing their secrets and vulnerabilities, and ended with the very things that had brought them together pushing them apart.
“I know how you feel, if it helps. It took me half an hour to figure out what to wear. And then I figured the theater’s going to be dark anyway.” He chuckled tightly. “Maybe it was a mistake. If my dad hadn’t…”
“Your dad hadn’t what?” She looked up quickly, found him looking a bit chagrined at the slip.
“He told me I needed to get off my ass and start living again.” Ethan shrugged. “I think I like you because you didn’t know Lisa before. So you don’t give me the ‘poor Ethan’ routine.”
Context. She didn’t have context and that was a relief to him. She had to admit, she felt a bit the same way. When she looked at him she didn’t see just a widower. And when he looked at her, she hoped he didn’t see someone who’d been utterly broken and whose pieces were precariously held back together with the glue of time and a lot of hard work.
They were just Ethan and Willow.
They could be whoever they wanted to be with each other.
“Let’s go,” she whispered. “Let’s get out of Darling and go to a movie or get a glass of wine or take a walk. I don’t care where. Let’s forget about being nervous and what we might expect from each other and just be for a few hours.”
“No expectations?”
“God, no. None.” Just saying it made her feel tons better.
He smiled again, this time free from the edge of stress that always seemed to line his lips. “Then I have a great idea. Something I haven’t done in years.”
“Are you going to tell me?”
He turned the key in the ignition. “Nope. I’m going to surprise you. Though you grew up here, so I’ll bet you’ll guess before we get there.”
He looked so excited she couldn’t say no.
They left Darling behind and hit the highway toward Burlington. As they put mile after mile behind them, the sky lightened and the rain stopped. It was still overcast, but not the gloomy, heavy clouds of before. When Ethan passed the exit to go to the movie theater, Willow looked over at his profile. Where were they going? And why was she so excited about it?
It all came together when he headed to Colchester and a small smile played on his lips. “We’re going to the drive-in, aren’t we?” she asked. She folded her hands in her lap but the little shiver of excitement was back. She hadn’t been to the drive-in since she was sixteen, and a bunch of them had piled into a car—six of them, maybe—and had snuck in their own snack food rather than go to the concessions stand. They’d snuck some other stuff in, too, though they’d been responsible enough to make sure whoever was driving wasn’t drinking.
Back when she was carefree. Just before she’d gotten pregnant and the world had changed.
“Hey, you okay?” Ethan’s voice interrupted as he slowed and reached into his back pocket for his wallet.
“I’m fine. Just remembering the last time I was here. Good memories, and some not so good ones, too.”
“High school’s like that.” He gave a half-shrug.
“Ain’t that the truth,” she muttered, determined to enjoy herself.
He looked over at her and grinned. “Hey, last time I was here was after college and the guys I was with hotboxed the
truck. I was twenty years old and I seriously thought my mom was going to spank my bottom with a wooden spoon when she smelled pot on my clothes.”
Willow burst out laughing, both at the story and at the image of the small but fiery Moira putting a big, strapping Ethan over her knee.
He paid for their entrance and crawled along, looking for a good spot to park. Because of the showers, it wasn’t busy, and he picked a prime space smack-dab in the middle. The screen was still gray and dark, as they’d arrived even before previews.
“Hey,” he said gently. “The thing about mistakes when we were young is that they shaped us into who we are today. So there’s no sense in regrets, you know?”
“I do know,” she answered, surprised when he reached over and took her hand. “Thank you, Ethan.”
“You’re welcome.” He looked uncomfortable for a minute, then puckered his brows as he met her gaze. “Willow, I’m going to ask you something and if you don’t want to answer, it’s okay. It’s just…”
A cold jolt of anxiety flashed through her.
He tightened his grip on her hand. “Willow, what happened that made you … I mean, that led to…” He nodded at her arm.
Panic tightened her throat. She wasn’t ready to talk about it, and even if she were, this was so not the moment.
When she didn’t answer, he pressed on, gentle but persistent. “It’s just … I know you don’t really talk about it, but any time you’ve mentioned your home life, sometimes I get the impression … I mean I know it wasn’t the happiest place to grow up, but was it worse? Did your mom ever…” He trailed off, a lost look on his face, before Willow saw determination flit through his eyes. “Did your mom ever hurt you? Not that I’m assuming anything here, but if I need to be particularly gentle, I want to know.”
“No,” she said quickly, and let out her breath. “No, Ethan, not what you’re thinking. I’m sorry if I gave you that impression.” And she was particularly touched by the gentle way he’d asked.
“I’m glad. The thought of anyone hurting you…”
Her heart melted just a bit. The consideration was just overwhelming. And to think she’d thought him a grouchy old curmudgeon the first few times they’d met. Unhappy, maybe. Though lately he’d seemed easier. More relaxed.
“Oh Ethan, it’s very sweet of you to ask, but I promise, the worst I suffered was, well, maybe neglect is the best way to put it. I was on my own a lot. And anytime I couldn’t be avoided, it was made very clear that I was being more trouble than I was worth.”
That was it, really. She hadn’t been worth it, and she’d felt it every day.
“That’s abuse in its own way, Willow. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Look, I’ll be honest. It’s not physical intimacy that frightens me. It’s emotional. I’m not afraid of you.”
“Then who are you afraid of?”
She met his gaze and admitted, “Me.”
He swallowed. “Oh.”
“I’ve kept myself distanced from people, but I’m starting to realize that it’s not the way to move forward. I’ve done a great job of dealing with my feelings and building myself this wonderful, serene life, but truthfully, I’ve avoided personal relationships for the most part, and then I don’t have to deal with my real weaknesses. You … you’ve made me start facing them and it’s difficult.”
“I’m sorry.”
Of course he would be.
“No, it’s probably about time. And Laurel says that I should try to have fun once in a while … and she’s right. Other than a few girls’ nights here and there, I’ve buried myself in work and causes.”
“Like I buried myself in work and bringing up the boys.”
“We do what we have to do to get by, right?”
He nodded. “You know what happened to me. It’s no secret, especially not in this town. Maybe someday you’ll feel like sharing more about what happened to you.”
“Maybe.”
“It’s okay if it’s not today. This is already the strangest first date I’ve ever been on.”
Did that mean he was thinking there’d be another? She knew she shouldn’t feel so pleased. Just accepting this invitation had put her in a twist, and not in the spinal-twist-to-work-out-the-kinks kind of way. And yet … she felt safe. Like Ethan wouldn’t do anything she didn’t want, or press for something she wasn’t ready for. Laurel had been right. This was his first date after losing his wife. Baby steps.
“Maybe someday,” she said, but her voice was noncommittal.
In front of them, the screen flickered to life, and Ethan adjusted the frequency on the radio. “You want something from concessions?”
She grinned. “I wouldn’t say no.”
“I’m not sure they have organic popcorn or naturally sweetened soda.”
“I’ll live.” She flopped back against the seat with a satisfied huff, enjoying the novelty of the night off, the drive-in, the prospect of a taste of junk food that rarely passed her lips. “I think there are a lot of things about tonight that I haven’t done for too long.”
His gaze touched hers and awareness sizzled between them, but then the movie sound came blaring through the speakers as the previews started. She reached to turn it down and he hopped out and jogged to concessions.
Each showing was a double feature, but by ten-thirty, after sharing a bag of popcorn, a box of Milk Duds, and a soda, fatigue was starting to set in. She’d been up at five, had worked all day, and had fretted about the date as well. The movie was a drama, and it was full dark outside. The SUV was dim, and she let out a little sigh as she sank a little lower in the seat.
“Here,” Ethan said quietly, his voice a low rumble. He shifted in the seat and lifted one arm along the back of the bench seat. “Tired? Do you want to go?”
She shook her head, but slid over a bit and leaned her head against his shoulder. The very top of his cast nudged her arm as he pulled her in a little closer. She rested on her left hip and put her feet up on the seat, letting her weight lean against his ribs. Lordy, he smelled good. She’d caught his scent all night, being enclosed in the car with him, but now she was close to his jacket and the shirt beneath it and she breathed in some sort of fresh-smelling laundry detergent and a manly, musky cologne or deodorant that reminded her of walking in the woods.
Oh, for Pete’s sake.
“We might as well watch the end,” she said quietly, keeping her eyes on the screen. “There’s only another twenty minutes.”
“Are we getting too old for the double feature?”
She laughed a little. “And finish at one a.m.? On a workday?”
He chuckled and his chest rose and fell beneath her.
When the credits started to roll at the movie’s end, Ethan sat up a little and slid his arm away from her shoulder. He started the engine, and they followed the thin line of cars that were leaving after the first show.
CHAPTER 12
The drive back to Darling was quiet and held an awkwardness that hadn’t been there earlier. The pre-date nerves were eclipsed by end-of-the-date anxiety, with the additional charge of attraction complicating everything.
Willow worried her bottom lip with her teeth. Would he drop her off outside? Walk her to the door? Kiss her good night? Maybe they’d stick to a handshake … ugh, how lame. Or a hug … would that mean she’d been friend zoned? What did she want for him to do? Could she step up and take the lead?
Were all these thoughts going through his mind, too?
She was more than grateful when he started up a conversation about the construction happening at the old food bank site, the upcoming date to get his cast off, and what their plans were for the Labor Day weekend. It was hard to believe that summer was winding to a close already, and soon kids would be back to school.
But still, under all the niceties, there was the undercurrent of what would happen next.
Ethan pulled in behind the building, next to where Willow’s little car was parked, and shut off the engine.
The butterfly stampede was back, tromping all through her insides, and as Ethan got out to open her door, she took a deep breath. For God’s sake, she was an adult, not a fifteen-year-old kid. He’d walk her to the door. There’d probably be a rather chaste kiss good night. And that would be that.
He opened her door and held out his hand.
When she took it, she knew she was in big trouble.
He shut the door behind her. The earlier rain had passed, leaving a fresh, verdant scent heavy on the air. Droplets of water pattered through the leaves of the nearby birches and maples, creating a mystical sound in the inky darkness. Everything was magnified; the warmth of his hand enclosed around hers, the sound of their footsteps on the wooden stairs leading to her apartment. She reached into her purse for her key and tried valiantly not to tremble as she slid it into the deadbolt and unlocked the door.
Willow turned to face him, and found herself a mere two inches away from the wall of his chest. Oh my.
“I had a good time,” she said, sounding unusually breathy. “Thanks for the date.”
“Willow.”
Dammit, when he said her name that way everything in her went all soft and gooey, like warm caramel. She lifted her chin but then she was even more aware of how close he was right now. How if she shifted the slightest bit, their bodies would be brushing. Little muscles in her body tightened in anticipation, in desire, in need.
He leaned forward, his jacket brushing against her, moving the silky fabric of her shirt over her skin like a whisper. His lips were close … so close … close enough she could make out the flavors of chocolate and butter and something indefinable that she craved. Was he ever going to kiss her? And still he waited, prolonging the agony, until he finally caressed her lips with his.
The kiss began as a feather-soft brushing of lips, something beautiful and fragile and incredibly arousing. It clouded Willow’s mind and she reached out and gripped the sleeves of his jacket as an anchor. Ethan deepened the kiss by degrees, increasing the pressure bit by bit, opening his lips a little more, touching his tongue to the inside of her bottom lip, until it blossomed into a full-on kiss that swept her up in a wave of delight.
