NINE FIRST DATES
by
Jennifer Ryder
NINE FIRST DATES
Copyright © 2020 Jennifer Ryder
Published by Jennifer Ryder
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the author, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. For permission requests, please write to the author, addressed “Request: Copyright Approval”, at [email protected].
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are of the author’s imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.
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Jennifer Ryder is in no way affiliated with any brands, songs or musicians or artists mentioned in this book.
Cover design: © 2019 Ben Ellis from Tall Story Designs
Editing by Lauren Clark Editing
My new year’s resolution is to find a partner. Someone I can snort-laugh and get down and dirty with. Someone who gains the approval of my mum, but with whom I can also share this crazy ride called life. Not too much to ask, right?
Thanks to my high school sweetheart, I’ve spent two years in Singletown, but now I’m putting myself out there: Abbie 2.0. I’m positive that the new, confident version of me will find love before Christmas.
I’m not going for a type. That’s got me into trouble before. I’m going to spread the net wide, as my late father would say. Better chance at catching a fish—I mean, a man that way.
But can I snag the man of my dreams? Or will this expedition end in a catch I just can’t keep?
CONTENTS
Chapter One – ERIC
Chapter Two – CAMERON
Chapter Three – AUSTIN
Chapter Four – SETH
Chapter Five – ZACHARY
Chapter Six – JAYDEN
Chapter Seven – JOHN
Chapter Eight – RIVER
Chapter Nine – CALLUM
Epilogue
Acknowledgements
Books by Jennifer Ryder
About the Author
Chapter One – ERIC
Early January
It’s been a long week, and that’s being kind. Anything that could go wrong, did. Bloody bridezilla. The only thing that’s going to bring me back to sanity is the comforting cheesy, doughy goodness pizza brings.
And a nice glass of red wine.
I tap my foot in the crowded waiting area of Domino’s Pizza. His dark eyes catch my attention first—or, rather, his stare. It’s unnerving, but I find myself unable to look away.
Is he checking me out?
“Order for Claudia,” the guy behind counter shrieks in a broken voice.
The short woman in the seat beside me stands and collects her order.
Mr Dark Eyes strides over to the vacant seat. His knees poke through the holes in his jeans as he sits. He leans back and crosses his arms beneath his lean chest.
Oozing confidence, he turns his head towards me. He smiles. “Hey.”
My cheeks bloom with heat. “Hey.”
A high-pitched gurgle comes from my stomach. I giggle. “Wow, sorry. The hunger for pizza right now is very, very real.”
Even though I’m not doing myself any favours with this meal—stupid underactive thyroid—it’s essential to my mental health.
His eyes scale my body as he laughs. He leans a little closer. Our shoulders almost touch. “I hear ya. The promise of carbs is all I can think about. Almost.”
I find myself sucking in my stomach and then release it. What am I doing? Now’s not the time to be self-conscious about my curves. Abbie 2.0 is confident. Any fella is lucky to have me, just the way I am … which is fabulous. “Oh, yeah? What else are you thinking about?”
From the slump in his shoulders and bags beneath his eyes, maybe he’s stressing about work. “How after a shit of a day, I’m lucky to sit next to someone with such a beautiful smile.”
“Oh,” I whisper, unsure what else to say. Is my disastrous Friday taking a turn for the better?
“I’m Eric,” he says, and offers his hand.
I slip my palm against his and shake. “Abbie.”
We talk for a while about our choice of pizza.
“Order for Eric T,” someone calls out. “And order for Abbie Michaels.”
My heart sinks. For once my order is on time. Damn it.
“I guess that’s us,” he says, still gripping my hand. I laugh.
He pulls me to my feet and we collect our orders.
I like him more than I should after a few minutes in Domino’s. Sigh.
Eric opens the door for me. “Maybe we should share a pizza sometime, Abbie.”
We walk into the car park together, stopping underneath the floodlight that paints his skin almost white. “Sure,” I say, trying to give off a nonchalant vibe. “That sounds nice.” Two years I’ve been single. Am I going to remember what to do?
“My phone’s getting repaired at the moment but add me on Facebook and I’ll get in touch.”
“Okay.” I open the Facebook app on my phone and hand it to him.
He finds his profile and selects ‘Add Friend’. “I’ll add you when I get home.”
I take back my phone and slip it in my jacket pocket. “’Kay, well, I guess I’ll talk to you later.”
“Cool. Have a good one.” He winks and walks off into the night.
What just happened?
***
As promised, Eric added me on Facebook that night. He suggested dinner the following weekend.
Italian.
My tastebuds started watering the second I saw his message.
I love Italian food. Who am I kidding? There isn’t much I won’t eat. I have a healthy appetite.
Offal. You hate anything offal.
Oh yeah, that’s right.
Tonight is the night. Eric and I have our first date.
I’ve already changed my clothes three times. Each outfit has gotten more and more conservative. I’m a proud curvy girl. I love my body, but my double Ds need to be tucked away—nothing too tight or revealing. I don’t want Eric to get the wrong impression. Besides that, I need his eyes on me, not the girls.
The choice of restaurant someone suggests says a lot about them. Depending on the choice, I’ll know if he’s done his homework. Depending on the price tag and level of fanciness, I’ll know if he’s out to impress.
Taking me to Italian & Sons, he’s definitely pulling out the big guns.
Will he have me eating out of the palm of his hand by the time we get to tiramisu?
Tonight won’t be cheap, but that’s okay. I always make sure I have ample cash on me. I never expect the guy to pick up the tab. In fact, I prefer to split it. It feels right. Equal. And relationships should be equal. I don’t want to be in a position where I feel I owe a guy something. Especially if it doesn’t work out.
But I’m not taking negative energy into our date.
I have a good feeling about this guy. Eric, whose favourite pizza is supreme with extra jalapenos. Eric, who thinks pi
neapple on a pizza is a crime.
If his favourite pizza is representative of his personality, then he’s a dash of everything with a hit of heat. Sounds like the perfect combination to me.
***
Eric is already waiting at the table when I arrive, menu open in front of him.
I check my watch. He’s early. Good start, Eric. Mum would approve.
He stands as I approach him. There are no holes to be seen in his dark blue jeans. His blond hair is combed to the side. A white long-sleeve shirt hugs his upper body. Does he work out?
“Hey, you look nice,” he says.
I bump into a nearby chair. My face blazes with heat. He regards me, and I have no idea if he was planning on coming in for a hello peck on the cheek. I bail and take a seat opposite him and try to dry off my sweaty palms on the front of my skirt.
I smile. “Thanks. Yeah, I’m not wearing the same Friday cloud I was last week. You look nice too by the way.”
He winks. “Cheers.”
I take a breath and place my mobile phone on the edge of the table, pushing the button on the side to activate silent mode. “I normally wouldn’t have my phone on the table—it’s just my mum had eye surgery today and I told her to call me when my brother has her settled at home.”
He smiles. “No worries. I hope everything went okay.”
“So far, so good.”
A tall male waiter comes over and fills my water glass. “Have you had a chance to peruse the menu?” he asks, eyes on me.
“Um, no I haven’t.” I open the menu in front of me. Most of it is written in Italian. I look to Eric, hoping he has half a clue as to what means what. “What looks good?”
He shrugs. “I dunno. Everything. We could try the tasting menu if you want?”
I scan over the menu once more. I don’t want to seem precious by going through the list and asking for an interpretation.
I’m game to try almost anything. Except offal.
I close the menu and hand it to the waiter. “The tasting menu sounds great.”
“Excellent choice. And how about some wine?”
“I’d love a glass of the house Shiraz. Thank you.”
The waiter nods and turns his body to face Eric, hands clasped in front of his chest. “And for you, sir?”
“You might as well make it a bottle. But I’ll have a Corona first.”
“Certainly.”
A dish with olives and fresh bread is brought out. The tables start to fill up, and the gentle hum of chatter grows louder.
Conversation is slow to start, but the courses come out relatively quickly, so that seems to take the pressure off.
I’m not one to jump on in and ask all the questions first, but Eric seems to be more interested in talking about the food. Is it because he’s nervous? Has it been a while since he’s dated, like me?
I might have to take the reins. I don’t want him to think I’m a meek little mouse. I can hold a conversation. And can talk the leg off a chair if required. I might only be twenty-five, but I know stuff about stuff. I listen to the news. I study the paper. I mix up the books I read.
“So, have you always lived here, or have you travelled?” I ask. I hope he’s travelled. I always love hearing stories of adventure.
“Pretty much lived here.” He sculls the last of his beer. The waiter swoops in and takes the empty bottle and fills his wine glass with red.
“Hmm. I’ve lived here all my life, but I’ve been lucky to travel overseas a couple of times.”
“Yeah?” he asks and tilts his head to the side.
“One of my favourite trips was when I went to my cousin’s wedding in Niagara Falls. It was just beautiful.”
“Cool.” He grasps the bottle of red and tops up my glass. “I haven’t travelled outside Australia. Guess it’s a matter of saving money.”
“Yeah, it’s not cheap. Especially going to America. The exchange rate is a killer.”
“Hmm. So, what do you do for work?” he asks.
Okay, we’re starting to get somewhere. “I’m an assistant event planner at Black Tie. It’s an events management company.”
He nods and hums to himself. “Sounds cool. What kind of events?”
“A bit of everything really. Weddings, gala balls, outdoor functions.”
“Cool.” His dark eyes penetrate me, as if he wants me to continue.
“Yeah, so it’s pretty stressful sometimes, making sure everything comes together. Especially weddings, as everything has to be perfect, you know? Timing is everything.”
“Ah-huh.” Again, with the eyes.
“I’m almost finished my diploma in event management. So when a position comes up, I can jump at it.”
He nods. “That’s cool.”
Sensing you like the word ‘cool’, mate.
“So, your Facebook profile said you work for Delta Construction?” God, does that make me sound like I was checking him out? Well, I guess I was.
“Yeah.”
I widen my eyes and stare at him, hoping he’ll continue.
He doesn’t. Pulling teeth from a chicken has to be simpler than this.
Be patient, Abbie.
“How long have you worked there?”
He shrugs one shoulder. “A while.”
What does that mean?
“What do you do there?”
“You know, this and that.”
“Oh, okay. So, like a labourer?”
“Yeah.”
Far out. This is so painful. Where is the sizzle of something I felt while we waited for our cheap pizza?
Our final savoury dish arrives: a wood-roasted chicken with Brussel sprouts.
I savour the tenderness and deep flavour of the meat and slight crunch to the vegetables. The food is amazing. Conversation, not so much.
“How do you like it?” I ask, noting he hasn’t touched his vegetables.
“Not bad.”
My phone vibrates on the edge of the table. Mum. I take the napkin from my lap and fold it and place it on the table. “Sorry, I won’t be a second.”
He takes a gulp of the wine and reaches for the bottle. “No stress. Take your time.”
I answer the call. “Hey, Mum.”
“Hello, sweet pea.” From the drawl in her voice, she’s probably high on painkillers.
I stand and push my chair in. “Can you watch my bag for a sec?”
Eric nods. “Sure.”
“Sorry, just let me go outside so I can hear you.” I weave through the restaurant and step out the front into the cool evening air. “You there, Mum?”
“Yes, darling. I’m doing well. Will has helped with the eye drops, so I’m fine.”
I let out a loud sigh. “That’s great.”
“How’s the date going?”
“Okay, but he’s not much of a talker.”
“He might just be shy.”
Shy? Nah. It’s not that. Maybe he’s just very private. He’s not about to lay out his life story for me the first time we meet. Maybe he didn’t have the best upbringing. Who knows?
“It’s weird because he seemed pretty confident when he asked me out.”
“You’re in a different environment. Give him a chance.”
She’s right. It’s not easy putting yourself out there. We are in a pretty formal setting.
“Thanks, Mum. Rest up. I’ll check in on you when I get home.”
“No worries. Will said he’d pick you up when you’re ready to save you a taxi fair, so just send him a text.”
“Cool. Tell him thanks.” I hang up the phone and take in a series of deep breaths.
It might seem nerdy, but I need to bring out the big guns.
Pre-prepared questions. This can go one of two ways.
The date will either flourish or fail.
***
Sensing a change in demeanour with the mention of siblings, I quickly move on to music. We talk about our favourite artists, pets we’ve loved and lost, embarrassing high school mom
ents, and where we’d go if money was no option. Granted I still do most of the chatting, but Eric has opened up more since I came back from my phone call. Maybe he gave himself a talking to while I was gone. Maybe it was the second bottle of wine that loosened his tongue.
After dessert, he reaches across the table and takes my hand in his. It’s warm, and his palms are smoother than I expect.
“I’m leaving early in the morning for Sydney as I’m going to be working up there for the next week or two, but it’d be good to meet up when I get back.”
I give his hand a squeeze. “I’d like that.”
He calls the waiter over and asks for the bill. “I’ll get it,” he says, reaching for his back pocket.
“No, it’s okay. I’m happy to split.” I reach under the table and grab my bag before sitting it on my lap.
“Abbie, please. Let me do this. To be honest, I haven’t been on a date in a while. Please.” Aha. It’s been a while for him too.
My shoulders drop as I let out a heavy breath. “Are you sure?”
He smiles. “Yup.”
“Okay. Thank you. But as long as you let me pay next time.”
He winks. “Deal.”
I text Will and ask him to pick me up. He responds and tells me he’s already in the area, so he’ll only be a few minutes.
Eric settles the bill and we walk out the front.
He leans in and gives me a soft kiss on the cheek. “I’ll send you a message when I get back home, okay?”
Goosebumps ripple over my skin. There’s the sizzle.
I swallow and nod. “Sounds great.”
Will drives his four-wheel drive into the car park and pulls into a vacant spot.
“That’s my ride. Do you need a lift somewhere?”
“Nah, I’m good. I’ll see you soon, yeah?”
“Yeah.”
He walks down the street. I jump into my brother’s car, my heart pounding with the thought of Eric’s lips on my skin.
“Do I need to run the guy over on our way home?” Will asks as he reverses.
I laugh. “Nah. You’d better not. Looks like I’m seeing him again.”
“Ooooh.” He teases as he drives out onto the main road. “Second date, huh?”
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