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Gabrielle is the epitome of natural beauty as she snickers and makes comments next to me while hogging the ice cream. I’m happy to let her do so since it means I can just watch her. The way she talks with her spoon as if painting a picture of her opinions. How the blond strands of hair fall in her eyes, and she allows me to tuck them back behind her ear. And that if I say exactly the right thing in terms of the episode, she turns to me with a beaming smile like I’m the funniest man on this planet.
This is what I want with her; relaxing nights, just the two of us, where we do nothing but watch stupid shows and eat ice cream on the couch. I don’t want adventure and excitement, and I don’t need a woman who is going to request crazy public sex acts. Although truck sex behind the bar was one of the hottest things this woman has ever given me in my life.
But really, I just want companionship. I want to build a life with someone. I want all of those little inside jokes my brother and sister have with their spouses. I want that life partner who will support and back me up through anything. I want to be that for her, to build her up and take care of any little thing she needs. I want to surprise her with flowers or a full gas tank, I want to sit out on the back deck and drink beers while arguing about where we should get takeout from.
I want her. Period. It might seem strange to an outsider who only sees the amount of time we’ve spent together. It’s very little.
They weren’t there the first day I saw her, though. To feel the ground shift under my feet. To know that love at first sight truly exists. They didn’t feel her skin, hold her close, and know how this connection is rare.
“Will you go on another date with me?” I blurt the question without thinking.
Because my psyche wants it, another chance to treat her like she should be treated, and apparently act accordingly.
Gabrielle turns to fully look at me, worrying her lip between her teeth. “The thing is …”
My chest falls in disappointment. “No, I get it.”
I asked for one shot, and that looks like it’s all I’m getting.
“No, Liam, that isn’t what I mean.” Her hand on my arm sparks hope deep inside my flesh. “I-I want to go on a date with you again. Honestly, I want to spend too much time with you. That scares me. What you said at the theater is true; I’ve been scared to step out of the lines I was painted into for so long. Doing something out of the character my parents molded me into is … it’s terrifying. But I came here to gain back a sense of who I am without their influence. That sounds sad as a thirty-something-year-old woman to say, but it’s true. I want to date you, I really do, but there are so many other factors that make me skittish.”
Jumping on the slim chance she’s opened up, I ramble. “If you want to keep this between us for now, if you want me to be a secret, whatever you want. Basically, I’m saying I’m all in for however you want to move forward. I just … I want a shot at that moving forward.”
It’s as vulnerable as I can get, and I feel like my feet are dangling over a precipice.
Gabrielle takes a deep breath and blows it out like she has to breathe in a rhythm to come to an answer.
“Okay. Okay. I … yes, I’d like to go on a second date with you.”
Thinking isn’t an option as my hands dive into her hair and my lips press to hers in a sweet, hopeful, gleeful gesture. Happy isn’t an emotion I feel very often, not in the kind of way where it lights your body up and makes you feel like a little kid during the first snow of the season. But that’s what’s suffusing my body right now, and I want to shine that light to Gabrielle … with my mouth.
She chuckles onto my lips, and we break apart enough so that our eyes meet. My hands are still on her face, and grown women are still yelling at each other on the television while Gabrielle is in pajamas. It gives me a glimpse into a future I very much desire.
“Get ready to be charmed, swooned, and swept off your feet. You have no idea what you’re in for, Gabrielle Murphy.”
13
LIAM
“All right, there is no way anyone is getting through this system.”
The tech slaps his hand on my desk, and the spiffy new software he installed is pulled up on my monitor.
“Even if someone were to tamper with the camera system, this technology allows us to fill gaps with the circuit we’ve set up. It’s reporting right back to our headquarters, where we can remote in and fix any weak link in the loop. So you’ll be covered. This thing will identify a gnat trying to chew on your plants,” he explains like he’s making a farm joke, but I don’t laugh.
“So it works, it will keep working, it will find any way to detect any suspicious behavior on the farm?” That’s all I care about.
“No doubt about it. We’ve got you covered. And if anything breaks or you need more coverage, you’re on the plan now, so sending a tech out here is at no extra cost.”
As if they aren’t charging me an arm and a leg to have this system already, but I nod in understanding. Cassandra set me up with her fancy security system company, the same one that A-list celebrities use to keep stalkers out of their private mansions. It’s a ridiculous chunk of change, but protecting our family recipes is priceless, and investing in that security is worth it.
Or at least it will be if it turns up who the hell fucked with our old system and those rows of tomatoes. I surf around the program on my computer a couple more times before the tech heads out, and then it’s into hyperdrive mode to get ready for tonight.
After leaving Gabrielle’s condo with a heavy make-out session and a stiff dick I wouldn’t let her do anything about since I’m letting her do this on her timeline, I started to prepare for our second date. It needs to be romantic, memorable, private so that no one in Hope Crest gossips about us, and fantastic enough to land me a third date.
Which is why it starts with a presentable appearance. Obviously, Gabrielle already thinks I’m attractive, or she wouldn’t have let me screw her on the bookshelves in her grandmother’s old store, but it’s time to up my game to the big leagues. Which means shaving my usually untamed stubble and beard into a decent shape, gelling my hair, putting on cologne, and gritting my teeth while I video call my sister for outfit help.
Alana’s incessant giggling and taunting are somewhat worth it when I stand in front of my bathroom mirror at fifteen minutes to seven o’clock and give myself a once-over. I hope to blow Gabrielle away and make it so that Mr. Right shows up at her front door.
