Falling at First Sight

by Willow Winters

  I’m surely not going to tell Sharon that. My plan is to drag my feet as long as I can until I know if there’s really something there between Trent and me.

  One kiss really. It’s all in the kiss, isn’t it? That’s what they say, so … just one kiss. A real one. Not a peck on the cheek to say goodbye after a coffee date, but the type of kiss that slows down your whole world as you kick up one leg and turn to jello.

  Nodding my head in agreement with … well with myself, I realize I’ve been ignoring Henry.

  “Right, Mommy?” Henry says.

  “Yes, that’s right,” I answer and immediately regret agreeing without knowing what I’m agreeing to.

  “You like Mr. Morgan! Mommy likes Mr. Morgan!”

  Ping. My phone goes off again as I roll up to the address Trent texted me.

  I’m just curious! Sharon wrote and I know I need to write something back so I settle on a sort-of truth: He asked me out tonight so we’ll see!

  And with that response, my phone is turned on silent.

  The inner voice in my head is anything but, though. With a heavy breath out, I lie to myself. I’m not a bad friend. She had a year. A full year. There has to be fine print in the dibs clause and if she was upset, she would have said so.

  All the nerves that nag at me vanish the moment my gaze lifts to the dark blue front door of the raised ranch house. Standing there in the yard and staring straight back at me is the man I can’t get off my mind.

  In a crisp white button-down with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms and dark blue jeans, he looks impeccably handsome. That look in his eyes when our gazes meet, and the way his lips kick up into a crooked grin … morphs his clean-cut look into that of a tempting devil.

  It’s only when his mother calls his name that I’m snapped out of it and unbuckle my belt. As I gather Henry and his bag out of the car, I can barely hear their conversation.

  “Is this your partner in crime, Chase? The one you’ve been telling me about?” Mrs. Emma Morgan’s glasses slip down the bridge of her nose as she speaks, but even still the woman is a force. I used to think age didn’t know her name; she could be Trent’s sister if the whole town didn’t know any better. She practically raised half of us.

  The past few years may have added some lines around her eyes and as she smiles, some new wrinkles rest there too, but his mother is still the woman I remember.

  Which makes it a little … odd to show up and ask her to watch my son while I date hers.

  “Mrs. Morgan, how are you?” I give her the largest smile I can and do my best to pretend that there isn’t anything at all weird about this.

  “Wonderful,” she says and her gaze slips down to my dress. “Don’t you look as pretty as a peach in June.”

  The smile on my face is genuine when I tell her thank you and then add, “And thank you for watching Henry.”

  “Trust me,” she says and stands upright, watching Henry run off to the flower bed where Chase is currently stacking rocks and knocking them down with some Transformer or other plastic figure of some sort I’m sure cost twenty bucks or more. “It will be easier on me for Chase to have a friend to keep him occupied.”

  “I really appreciate it.”

  “You don’t have to keep thanking her,” Trent says and slips a hand on my lower back as he adds, “She’d kill me if I let someone else watch him on her weekend with Chase.”

  His mother gestures with a hand before I can say anything and she writes us off with a wave as she says, “Enjoy your date.”

  There’s this thing about a small town and how people talk. Word spreads and even the most innocent of things can turn scandalous.

  That’s probably why the only words I can think of right now are that it’s not a date. But I know very well it is, so instead I stand there, watching the woman who used to watch me take a seat in a lawn chair and call out for us to have fun.

  This is the specific time my friend group calls the moment. The one where you know you’re really on a date and it’s happening. So either you turn back, or you run full steam ahead.

  “Your car or mine? I would immediately go to mine, but since it’s not a date-date …”

  “What?”

  “You just muttered it’s not a date-date,” Trent says jokingly and with him next to me, standing there, I have to crane my head to look up at him. Even in these wedge sandals.

  Standing there in the late summer warmth that’s quickly fading into an early fall evening chill, I’m lost in his amber eyes for just a moment.

  “If I had it my way, it’d be a date-date, you know?” he says, the confession sounding like it’s something sinful.

  The boys yelling out on behalf of the toy men in their hands breaks me from the spell Trent is so darn good at putting me under.

  “Henry is already chanting that we’re dating.” I’m busy tucking my hair behind my ear when Trent replies, “That’s my little man.”

  I can’t deny it does something to me, listening to him talk about son like that. Little butterflies make my stomach flip and I can see a happily ever after with him. Already. I haven’t even had my kiss yet.

  As he asks me, yet again, whose car we’re taking since I still have my keys in my hand, I come to a very real observation.

  Dating a man you really want to hold on to for more than one night is completely terrifying.

  Trent

  With dim, candlelit lighting, modern furniture draped in plush velvet, and the other guests dressed to the nines, Blue Bay is the fanciest restaurant this town has to offer. And the only one I can imagine taking Autumn to tonight. Even if she did drive and refer to this evening as not a date-date, this is an official first date. And judging by her shyness and the quiet thank you as I push her chair in, Autumn is very much aware of that.

  With the din of chatter and clink of silverware surrounding us, the waiter takes our drink order.

  A glass of chardonnay for Autumn. I make a mental note of which wine she’s having. If my father taught me anything before passing, it’s that love is in the details. Small gifts that bring memories will go a long way. I intend to have that with the woman I share my life with.

  I’m almost certain it’s Autumn.

  Every moment with her, the tension gets thicker.

  Every moment without her, she’s all I can think about.

  “This is a really nice place,” she says and her voice is gentle with more than a hint of gratitude as she lays the napkin across her lap.

  “This is the only place I thought to take you tonight.”

  “Really?” She sounds surprised.

  “You’re a single mom and from what I can tell, a workaholic.” I answer her with complete honesty. “When’s the last time you treated yourself to a night out?”

  “I have my friends. We do get-togethers … but not like this.”

  “Exactly.”

  “So you want to spoil me?” She lays the question out as if it’s a joke.

  “Most definitely,” I answer with as much charm as I can manage. The nerves are gone, the fears of ruining this with her nowhere in sight. It’s just me and her and a date that is long overdue. “I really like you and I wanted to make sure I made that clear tonight.”

  There’s a pause as the beat of my pulse and everything else slows when she looks back at me. Until she answers with five little words, “I really like you too.”

  The waiter is silent as he drops off our drinks, interrupting the moment, but it’s pleasant enough and we place our dinner order.

  The atmosphere mixes just right with the jack and Coke and her glass of chardonnay.

  After a moment, Autumn seems to remember where the conversation was and picks it right back up. “As my son might say,” she says and the words leave a beautiful smile on her lips as she sips the sweet-smelling wine that carries all the way across the table. “I kind of sort of, maybe, quite possibly, like you a lot.”

  “Is that flirtation I sense?” I tease her and she lets out
a small hum of amusement as she nods her head.

  “How am I doing? I may be a bit rusty.”

  “Well, this is a compliment I never thought I’d give, but I like you rusty.”

  Her shoulders shake with the laugh and her hair flows over her shoulders. In this moment, she’s beautiful and I know I was right to wait for her to finally come around and give me a chance.

  “Oh, aren’t you just the charmer,” she says but lays her hand on the table, palm up. I’m quick, but not too quick, to lay mine on top of hers and she threads her fingers through mine.

  The conversation flows easily, a bit of laughter, a bit more of deeper conversation.

  The only interruption comes when she checks her phone and then peeks up at me.

  “You don’t get out much, do you?” I jokingly scold her for checking on the boys again. “My mom has some experience here, you know?”

  “Oh, come on, just text her and ask how they’re doing.”

  “They’re fine. I’m sure.”

  “Please,” she says as the waiter refills her water goblet.

  “You could message her,” I say just to tease her. “I’ll send you her number.”

  “I’m not texting your mother while I’m on a date with you.”

  “Ooh, so you admit it? We’re on a date?”

  Bright red stains her cheeks but she doesn’t waste any time flicking her cloth napkin at me and saying, “Just ask her, please.”

  “She already messaged ten minutes ago and said they’re watching Batman and the two of them ate an entire bag of popcorn.”

  Her smile grows and she slips her phone back in her purse with a simple thank you.

  Before I can tell her she doesn’t need to worry, before I can remind her she’s on a date, she tells me, “You’re lucky you have your mom. I don’t have much family and none of them live around here anymore.”

  “I know I am. She loves watching Chase.”

  Her eyes spark as if she’s about to say something daring. “So, I’m just going to put the obvious out there … if we were to do this thing, really date I mean. I think we’d make a cute little family.”

  I take a moment to let it sink in that she’s considering things I’ve considered. This may be our first date, but it’s not like we didn’t already know what we were getting into.

  I voice aloud a thought I’ve had ever since she agreed to that coffee date. “People might think Chase and Henry are twins … not the identical kind, but because of their age.”

  With bright eyes and a soft smile, Autumn replies, “So that didn’t scare you? Because if we do this, really do this … I don’t want just a fling.”

  “Men aren’t scared off by the thought of a family. I know what I want, and I’m not looking for a fling either.”

  She bites down on her plush bottom lip and all I can think is that I want to do that nibbling. With my cock hardening, I readjust in my seat and thankfully, I’m saved by the waiter.

  “The rib eye,” he says as I lay my napkin across my lap, “and scallops and medallions.” Nodding toward our drinks, I answer him before he can ask the question, “Another for each of us, please.”

  Autumn looks giddy staring down at her plate with a small hum of satisfaction. One thing I hadn’t realized before tonight was how laid back and easily pleased Autumn is. She’s all smiles all the time although there has to be something that gets to her.

  “You look like a kid at Christmas,” I say as she pops a roasted potato into her mouth the second the waiter is gone.

  “I love good food.” Autumn doesn’t hesitate to cut into one of her scallops. “You’re going to wish you got these,” she taunts playfully, the chunk of caramelized scallop speared on her fork.

  “I think I’m going to be just fine with my steak.”

  “It does look delicious,” she says and eyes my meal like she may steal it if I don’t eat fast enough.

  “Where do you even put it away? You’re a tiny little thing.”

  “All the way down to my toes,” she says and the joke makes me grin. “So … this is a date-date?”

  “It’s a date-date,” I say, nodding in agreement.

  All she does is smile at my answer and I comment, “You like to smile, don’t you?

  Her head tilts with a small nod. “Happiness is a choice.”

  “I want to be happy.” I don’t know why the words slipped out, but they do.

  “You aren’t now?” she asks with all seriousness, giving me her full attention.

  “Happier,” I say, amending my statement.

  “What would make you happy?”

  You. The word stays at the back of my throat and I shrug, taking a swig of my drink rather than answering. “Life is good, but I just want make sure it’s everything it can be for Chase.”

  “I don’t know a lot of single dads, and only a few single moms. But I know you’re doing a good job. Chase is a sweet kid and he’s happy.”

  “So is Henry.”

  A smile instantly blossoms on her lips and she tells me thank you.

  “So … since this is a date-date, can we agree to one thing?” she asks, changing the subject.

  “What’s that?”

  “Can we can go slow?” she asks me.

  “Slow?”

  “I just think it’s best, with the boys and all.”

  “Slow it is then.”

  And just like that, the serious tension is gone, but both of us know what the other wants.

  One small problem, though: there’s nothing about the two of us that I want to do slow.

  Autumn

  “You’re the one who said let’s take it slow.” Trent makes the comment as I catch my breath and lay my head back on the driver’s side seat.

  Dinner and another drink at the bar after, and then some more flirting and small touches, took most of the night. It’s dark outside of the car. The moon is almost full, the stars on full display in the midnight blue sky.

  Trent can’t get the grin off his smug, handsome face.

  “And yet …” He lets the words hang in the air as he gestures to my house. I drove to my house after dinner. Not to his where his mother and both of our boys are.

  Freudian slip is all I can say in defense.

  “You just wanted to take me home. Admit it,” he teases and with his rough chuckle I can’t help but laugh.

  He’s not wrong, though. Not in the least.

  Something changed at dinner. My heart won’t stop thumping for this man.

  I just hope it’s as real for him as it feels for me. Every time he breaks our kiss, I remember something Renee likes to say that serves to answer that nagging little question: You’ll find out by morning.

  With a grin pulling at my mouth, I lean over the console and lay another kiss on his lips. Our hands don’t stop roaming. Both of us feeling up the other and enjoying the kind of making out I thought was only for high school and puppy dog love.

  I suppose romance has layers. And I happen to really enjoy all of Trent’s layers. Every last little bit of every single one.

  Very few cars have driven by but when they do, we’ve paused, caught our breath and teased the other for starting up the kiss again. It starts with a little touch, then inching closer … I just can’t get enough of him.

  Ping. His phone goes off and this time I groan in protest, until I realize it’s his mother.

  He reads the text out loud. They’re both fast asleep so stay out however long you want. Go to a movie or something.

  “Are movies even playing this late?” I ask.

  “She doesn’t have to know all the details.”

  His words hang in the air. The pull between us only gets stronger as the seconds pass.

  It’s his turn to lean in and kiss me, which he does. His right hand on my thigh, his fingertips grazing against my bare skin and then higher, pushing up the hem of my dress.

  I moan into his mouth as my left hand does the same to him, slipping up his collared shirt and find
ing his taut muscles beneath the fabric as our kiss deepens. He’s got me every kind of hot and bothered.

  It’s only when a pair of headlights flashes and drifts by that the kiss is broken, leaving me breathless and more than that, wanting.

  A million questions about how we’re going to make this work and if it’s going to last bombard my mind, but the only one I ask is, “You want to come in?”

  Trent

  Maybe it’s because I’ve wanted her for over a year. Maybe it’s because her hands roam freely down my body like I’ve dreamed about. Maybe it’s because her kiss tastes like lust and sweet wine and everything I ever wanted.

  Whatever the reason, the second we’re through her front door, I pin Autumn to the wall, my lips never leaving hers, and my hands reaching below her dress.

  The sudden gasp from her lips only fuels me to deepen our touch. Her small noises are the only sounds I can hear apart from the blood rushing in my ears and my heart pounding inside my chest.

  “Trent,” she moans my name against my lips, our warm breath mingling. I don’t know how she has any time at all to speak. I want all of her, in every way, without any thing between us. Not even words.

  My fingers inch up her thighs, the soft fabric taunting me until I reach the thin lace of her panties. Her smile against my lips is sultry and sinful, just like the words she whispers. “Tear it if you want.”

  Fuck. As if I couldn’t get any harder for her.

  The thin fabric shreds easily enough and I let it fall before pulling my shirt over my head. Her hands fumble with the buckle on my belt and I swear it feels like first love all over again.

  Each of us wanting, needing, and desperate to take this to the next level.

  With half our clothing a careless heap piled next to us, I make a move to lift her dress, but she stops me, breathing out heavily and taking in the cool air.

  “Bedroom,” she murmurs against my lips and I never knew I could hate a word so much. Not daring to put space between us, I lift her in my arms and take the stairs two at a time. The lust still clinging to every inch of us, I rid us of the remaining clothing before falling onto the bed with her beneath me. With my forearms braced beside her head, she seems so small beneath me.