The Blessing

by Elizabeth Price

  “This is incredible, Trev,” she whispers with a child-like grin as I lead her to the podium to claim our reservation.

  The hostess’s eyes widen as she takes in the sight of me. If her appraising look is good or bad—I don’t know. I tell her my name, and she almost sputters a response. I swear it’s like some of the women I deal with have never seen a man in their entire fucking life.

  “Right this way, Mr. Warren,” the young hostess says while giving me a speculative look.

  I always get a kick out of being called “Mr. Warren.” It makes me feel so much older and more mature. I know I’m twenty-four and I should be used to the feeling, but so many people take one look and sum me up as someone who’s not responsible and not worth their fucking time. I’m so thankful Ronnie was never judgmental. If she was—I probably wouldn’t be here with her tonight. I’d be crushing on her from afar, hoping one day she’ll notice me the same way I do her.

  As we’re ushered to our table, I take in the crowd. The dining room is gorgeous and filled with—what looks to be—the wealthiest fucking populates of the city of Denver. The men regard my girl in appreciation and when they finally acknowledge me—her fucking boyfriend—their eyes squint in disgust. The women on the other hand, look at me with a very different emotion in their eyes. I know lust when I see it because it’s often how I look at Ronnie. I ignore them, and spend my time serving up death glares to anyone that dares to look at my girl. Thankfully, we’re seated at a nice table in the corner, far removed from the assholes who were checking her out. And now that I can sit down and block Ronnie from everyone else’s view—I feel a hell of a lot better. Those pricks can see my back and nothing else. They’re old enough to be her father for fuck’s sake. While my fighting days are behind me—I don’t want to spend the duration of my date wanting to strangle a bunch of old fucking geezers.

  “So, what do you think of this place?” I ask, wanting to make sure she’s okay with my choice for the night. It’s a step up from our usual chain restaurants, that’s for damn sure.

  She stares at the menu for a moment, looking concerned as if she’s wondering whether I can afford this or not. “It’s great,” she finally says with a somewhat sincere smile. I know she loves it, but she’s obviously uncomfortable with how expensive it is. She’s worth every penny. “It’s just so fancy,” she continues as she peeks up at me from over her menu.

  I chuckle at her adorable smile and shake my head. “Well, I thought my beautiful girlfriend deserved to go someplace nice.” She blushes and looks down at her lap, another smile playing on her lips. “Besides, I put some cash aside just so I can take you out. I just wanted to treat you like a princess, I guess.” While it sounds cheesy, it’s fucking true. “I wanted to make tonight special for you.”

  “It is,” she says seriously as her eyes bore into mine. “It was going to be special no matter what you had planned. I’m having a wonderful time already, Trev.”

  I love how she says my name, so softly, as if I’m all fucking hers.

  “I don’t think you realize how special you are to me. Seriously, Ronnie. I’ve never been good about putting my emotions into words—but you mean everything to me.”

  Her doe-eyes are glistening with emotion and a small smile is tugging on her lips as if she’s trying desperately to keep herself composed. Finally, she bites down on her lip and runs a shaky hand through her curled hair. “Trev, I do realize that—and I feel the same about you. You’re all I think about; all I—”

  Our waiter for the evening unintentionally cuts her off. I shoot him a death glare out of impulse because he ruined such an intimate moment. I sit back in my seat and sigh—trying desperately to not pay any mind to the bottle he’s holding in his hand. He presents it to us, but I’m not listening. I stare off into space and try my damnedest not to think about how wonderful one sip of alcohol would fucking taste. My mouth grows dry just thinking about it. As a result, I grab the small glass of water to take a drink—nearly knocking it over in the process. I don’t dare look at Ronnie. I don’t want to see the look of concern I know will be in her eyes. Despite temptation being practically shoved down my throat, I take a deep breath and focus all my energy on the beautiful girl sitting across from me. I’m desperate to not allow alcohol’s power over me to ruin our evening.

  He asks for our drink order and when I say we’ll stick with our waters, he gives me a disdainful look. It’s the look that so many servers give when they feel they aren’t going to make jack shit off a table. I understand that look because I used to be a server myself back in California. Whenever someone would order two entrees and two waters—I knew my tip would be about four bucks if I was lucky. Of course, I’d been high all of the time back then and messed up my orders constantly—so I barely made a dime waiting tables. Despite my understanding of the look, it still bothers me. It’s as though he’s summed me up already and will be adjusting his service accordingly. I grab the drink menu and take a quick once-over, knowing most of the options aren’t really options for me. Finally, I come across the non-alcoholic drinks at the very bottom.

  “We’ll have two espressos as well, thank you,” I say somewhat spitefully.

  As soon as the waiter walks off, Ronnie straightens in her seat and asks, “What was that all about?”

  “Nothing,” I shrug, not wanting my quick temper to ruin our night. “I just didn’t like the way he was looking at me.”

  “He’s an asshole,” Ronnie agrees, surprising me with her language. She’s not one to curse, but when she does it’s fucking hot. “He’s probably just jealous,” she smugly states.

  I snort at her assessment. “Jealous of what?” How hot my girlfriend is? I’m sure the whole room is feeling that sort of jealously, then.

  “He’s probably just jealous of how hot you are.” She winks at me. She’s never called me hot before! I’m still reeling from her words when she continues, “Actually, I’m just a little annoyed with his timing. What I wanted to tell you was how important you are to me, too. You and Greyson are my world, Trev.”

  “You’re my world, too,” I say without hesitation. “If it weren’t for you and Grey… I don’t know what type of man I would’ve turned out to be. When I’m with you, I feel better. I feel like you allow me to be a better version of myself. You see the man in me that I never imagined I could be.”

  “You’re a good man,” she says, her voice heavy with conviction. “You’re too hard on yourself. Yet, you’re such a wonderful father, and such an amazing boyfriend. You don’t give yourself enough credit.”

  My heart swells at her words. Judging by her opinion of me now, I can’t help but wonder what she’d think about the man I once was. He wasn’t a hero. Hell, he wasn’t an anti-hero either. The man I once was… wasn’t anything. You couldn’t put a label on me because nothing I did fucking warranted one. I just existed and thrived off of harming myself. If Ronnie knew the person I had been, maybe she’d understand why I have to be hard on myself. I fear that if I start lightening up on myself, I’ll fall right back into my old, shitty habits.

  The waiter returns with our drinks. I take a sip of my espresso, pretending as though I’ve had something other than shitty ass coffee my entire life and that I actually have some knowledge of fancy-ass espresso drinks. Truly, though—I have no idea what espresso is supposed to taste like, but I imagined it would taste… better. This tastes like bitter—but expensive—garbage.

  As the waiter gets ready to take our order, I quickly encourage Ronnie to get whatever she wants on the menu. Ronnie being Ronnie, doesn’t want to order anything too expensive, like a steak, and settles on Scottish Salmon. I can’t tell whether she ordered it because it sounded good to her or if she ordered it because she wanted something moderately priced. I guess I now have money to get us a nice dessert. And then maybe later—if I’m lucky—she’ll be my dessert, as well.

  I’m off in fantasy-land—where Ronnie’s naked pussy is in my face—when the waiter gives me an exp
ectant look. “We’ll take the Maryland Crab-cakes as a starter, and I’ll have an eight-ounce New York Strip for my entrée and a Loaded Baked Potato for my side.” The waiter smiles, obviously pleased with the amount of our bill so far.

  As soon as we’re alone, we fall into an effortless conversation as we sip our espressos. Conversations are always easy with Ronnie—even for an introvert like me. We can go from one topic of conversation to the next so seamlessly. It’s as if we were the same person, or two people who’ve known each other their whole lives. Maybe our souls have known each other for a long fucking time. I’ve just never met someone I wanted to open up to and bear my soul to. Of course, there’ll be no soul bearing tonight. Only easy conversations about our hobbies—which for me is taking care of a baby and for her it’s writing a children’s book—and our love for all things geeky. She seems impressed that a “guy like me” used to be into those sorts of things, but I assure her, I’m full of surprises.

  Our starters arrive but we’re so deep in conversation, we barely notice our waiter coming and going. I can’t take my eyes off her as we begin to dig in. I gaze at her as though if I looked away for one second, she’d disappear, and I’d discover this night isn’t real. It does seem like a dream, but I know it’s because I’m with Ronnie. She makes everything feel like a fucking fantasy. We finish our starters and begin to discuss movies as we wait for our entrées. She’s hilarious because she’ll love these mainstream, romantic comedies one day, and then she’ll like the most obscure and horrific shit the next. I’m thrilled she’s so into science fiction and horror because most girls can’t stomach that shit. However, she isn’t most girls; she’s my girl.

  “Don’t look so shocked, Trev. I told you before, my dad really would watch those movies with me growing up. How’d you think I heard about most of them?”

  She’s got a point, it’s not like she was alive in the 1970s to know which horror films were amazing, but ill-received back then. While part of me is terrified to meet her father—part of me is also excited to meet the man who introduced this girl to Alice, Sweet Alice and Night of The Lepus.

  “So, what’s your dad like?”

  “Well, you’ll be meeting him soon enough, so I suppose you’d want to know,” she says somewhat teasingly.

  I nearly choke on my water. “How soon is ‘soon’?”

  Ronnie giggles and leans back in her seat, jutting her tits out in my direction. “Not that soon, so don’t look so terrified. My dad’s a good man, I promise. He’s busy with work right now—but he’ll come up to see me eventually. When he does, he’ll want to meet my boyfriend.”

  Okay, so not that soon. “What does your dad do for a living?”

  “He’s a fire chief in Austin, Texas,” she answers with a proud smile.

  A fire chief and a Texan… Well, this is fucking great. I hope a man like that will like me. “He sounds really cool,” I respond, not wanting to sound too worried.

  “He is. And he’ll love you, Trev.”

  Before she continues to prattle on about her dad—which I love to listen to since I’m curious about the most important man in her life—the waiter serves our entrées. We take one look at our food and dig right in—talking to each other between bites. The food is incredible; I can easily see why it’s so damn expensive. It’s worth every penny I’ll pay for it. As we eat our dinner, I notice that night seems to be falling early. It’s just past six o’clock in the evening and it’s nearly pitch-black outside. I noticed it started to drizzle earlier, but as soon as I hear the wind start to pick up, I know a storm is brewing. Of. Fucking. Course. Ronnie shivers as she looks out the restaurant’s windows at the promise of severe weather.

  Reaching across the table, I take her hand in mine. “Are you afraid of storms, baby?”

  She blushes and shakes her head—which I know is a weak attempt at masking her emotions. As much as I would like to have dessert, I flag down our waiter for the check instead. Ronnie’s still staring out the restaurant’s windows, her nerves apparent on her beautiful face. I just want to get her into bed and “comfort” her. We quickly finish our food and I pay—leaving the waiter a generous tip, despite the shit way he treated us at first. Ronnie’s antsy to leave and I don’t blame her because I’m ready to bounce, too. It looks horrendous outside.

  “Ronnie, everything will be okay,” I say as I rub comforting circles against her palm with my thumb. “Besides, you’ve got me to comfort you.” I wink and she blushes.

  “Sir.” I look up to find a worried looking hostess, her eyes dart skittishly between Ronnie and me. “A really bad storm has moved in from the west and some of the roads are beginning to flood. Our manager has made the decision to close early this evening. I’m sorry for any inconvenience this may cause you.”

  I look around and find the other patrons paying and heading out. “That’s fine. We were about to head out anyway.” I stand up and walk around the table to help Ronnie out of her chair. She smiles at the gesture before I take her hand in mine and lead her to the door.

  It’s pouring by the time we get outside. I pause at the door to keep her out of the rain. She put so much effort into looking fucking sexy for our date tonight; I don’t want the rain to mar that. “Just wait here and I’ll pull the truck around and pick you up!” I yell over the sound of the downpour as I zip my leather jacket all the way up to protect me from the harshness of the autumn cold. She rolls her eyes at me and gives me the sweetest fucking smile. Although, she’s obviously frightened by the storm—I know she must hate looking weak.

  “I’ll be fine, Trev. Let’s make a run for the truck together. It’s not like you parked far away. I can see your truck from here.”

  I give her a dubious look before shrugging my shoulders. I guess if she wants to get nice and wet for me, I won’t stop her. I take her hand tightly in mine as I gaze out at the downfall. It pounds against the pavement in an unrelenting manner. I look back to her and the expression on her face shocks me. She’s smiling. She looks fucking exhilarated. She squeezes my hand and I yell over the sound of the rain, “On the count of three we’ll make a run for it together.” She throws her head back and laughs before nodding and counting with me. “One! Two! Three!” We take off running as fast as we can toward my truck.

  I keep my eyes on my truck as I run, with her hand safely laced with mine. I can hear the sound of her laughter as it rises over everything else. She sounds so happy and carefree. I wish I could bottle the sound and listen to it forever. As soon as we reach my truck, I open the passenger door for her and help her inside. With my hands on her waist, I hoist her into my ride but find that it’s hard to let go. My hands can’t help themselves, they run from her waist to the curves of her hips and squeeze. A small moan escaped her lips before I bring them to meet mine. I don’t care that the rain is pouring down on me and soaking the upholstery of my truck because all I fucking want is her. All I want is this moment. Lightning strikes the ground causing Ronnie to jump in my arms. I pull away, quickly shutting her door and running around the front to get into the driver’s seat.

  Ronnie’s giggling as she looks down at her outfit. She leans forward to check her makeup in the rearview mirror. She finds makeup is smeared all over her face. Now that she’s wet, her dress clings to her body like a second skin, allowing me to see every delicious curve she has. Seeing her like this—in close quarters with the possibility of sex on the horizon—I wonder how I’d stayed away from her for so long. I watch her chest heave as she tries to regulate her breathing. I can’t help but stare, transfixed by the way her tits jiggle a little with every breath. I want nothing more than to pull the top of her dress down and wrap my mouth around one of her perfect, pink nipples. They’re so pebbled up they’re straining through the fabric of her dress, obviously chilled by the rain. I know my mouth could easily warm them up.

  I can feel that she wants me, too. Her need is palpable, and her gaze is trained on my body. She’s worshiping me with her eyes as I worship her with
mine. Her lustful look alone is enough to cause my cock to come alive in my pants. It’s throbbing against the zipper, begging to be released and she hasn’t even touched me yet. Lust fills the air like electricity crackling. We eye-fuck each other for a long time, as if we were asking ourselves if we’re really doing this. That moment ends for both of us at the same time when our lips meet, our bodies crashing together. She tastes as fucking amazing as she looks and feels better than any fantasy I’ve ever had. As much as I want to take her right here and now—making love to her until she’s shouting my name—I know we can’t do it here. I’m not going to let our first time together be in my truck parked outside a fucking restaurant. So, we kiss slowly, yet hungrily until the rain slows down. Which leaves my cock throbbing at the thought of what the night has in store for us.

  chapter 23

  closer

  With a darkened sky and a heavy sheet of rain, I feel as if I’m secluded with my girl. The rain is unforgiving as it pelts down on my Ford F-250, blocking the rest of the world out. Time feels as if it’s standing still. There’s nothing else that exists aside from Ronnie and me. Her tits are heaving within the fabric of her wet black dress; her body is slippery smooth from the rain. I want to strip her of that damned dress and lick every inch of her ivory skin dry. I imagine how fucking perfect her wet skin would look beneath the dim streetlights. As my imagination quickly runs wild, my cock grows uncomfortable in the confines of my jeans. I jerk away from her for a moment, trying to regain the minuscule sliver of control I have left. However, one lustful look from her has me pulling her back into my arms to taste her again. I lick her full bottom lip until she allows me entrance to her mouth. Having the console between us makes it difficult to touch her like I want. Without warning, I pull her across it and onto my lap. It’s a tight fit, and we both laugh as her ass bumps the steering wheel, causing the horn to sound. I slide my seat back and she relaxes in my lap. Don’t fuck her in the truck like some cheap prom date, Trevor! As I’m berating myself, Ronnie surprises me by rubbing her panty covered pussy against my erection—causing me to almost ejaculate in my pants. What the fuck, Trevor! Are you twelve years old? Don’t embarrass yourself!