Raspberry kiss.

That's the color of the lipstick I swipe across my bottom lip, adding a light coat of gloss for shine. Checking out my appearance in the mirror, I fluff my hair at the roots, relieved that it’s cooperating, and the waves I spent time creating with a curling iron are full and flowy, falling forward over my shoulders. My make-up is simple and natural, the raspberry kiss lipstick a splash of color on my face.

After much debate and consideration, I finally settled on a navy sundress that crosses in an X down my back, flares slightly at my hips, and skims just above my knee. Pairing it with silver strappy sandals, I think I look casual enough for Raf's, but dressed up enough for a date.

God, I hope so.

I've never been to the town dive bar, although I've heard stories about it. I wanted to go for years, but Isabella wrinkled her nose whenever I mentioned it, and Mom looked positively horrified the one time I suggested we lunch there.

But to me, it always seemed like great fun—wild nights and hysterical stories. A real community gathering that included trips down memory lane and booze. What could be better than that in a small town?

The doorbell sounds, and my heart rate ticks up, nerves skating down my spine at the anticipation for tonight. A real date. With a man I actually like. It's ridiculous, but it hasn't been since before college that I had this experience. I'm both excited and nervous at the prospect. And relieved that my parents are at the McCarrington’s for dinner tonight so that Carter can pick me up in peace.

I know if things continue between Carter and I, then Mom and Daddy are going to have to meet him. Eventually. But explaining to my parents that I’m dating the guy who was in the car with the drunk driver who hit me is a conversation I’d like to delay. For as long as possible.

Picking up my purse, I hurry out of my room, flicking off the lights as I go. Pulling open the front door, Carter stands on the porch, his fingers tapping nervously against his jeans.

His eyes visibly widen when he sees me, and the most genuine smile I've ever seen works its way across his lips.

"Wow," he murmurs, his eyes never leaving mine. "You look absolutely beautiful, Taylor."

I blush at the compliment. "Thank you. You clean up okay, too."

Carter chuckles, dipping his head. “I try.”

"Ready to go?”

He nods, lacing our fingers together. Then he matches his pace to mine, which I’m delighted to share is getting faster as my leg grows stronger, as we walk down the front steps to his waiting SUV. The sight of it, worn-in and well-loved, is such a relief I beam at the old vehicle, excited for the sweet promise tonight holds.

Carter holds the door open for me before jogging around the front and sliding into the driver's seat. He clicks in his seat belt and turns toward me, grinning broadly. "You ready for tonight?" He turns on the ignition.

"Yep."

"Because Raf's can get pretty wild." He raises his eyebrows, teasing me.

"I can handle it."

"I have no doubt. Just warning ya."

I snort, the sound incredibly unattractive and one I usually save for Ria.

Carter reaches out and lays his hand on my thigh in response. "Seriously though, if you're not feeling it, at any point, just tell me and we can bounce."

"Okay," I agree easily, touched by his offer. I've never been out with a guy, not counting my high school homecoming date, who ever put my feelings or comfort before their own. There is always an angle, a motive.

I smile out the window as the houses grow smaller and closer together; tonight is real.

The first thing I notice about Raf's is the smell. It hits me the second I step over the threshold. Frying oil and peanuts and beer and something I can't place. Something musky and sweet. Something hanging in the air as summer morphs into fall and permeates the space surrounding me.

Raf's is still quiet, it only being eight. Still, the few tables with families eating dinner and the line of older men sitting at the bar, many of them wearing baseball hats with the different branches of the military emblazoned on the front, turn to stare at Carter and me as we enter.

"Hey Carter," the bartender calls out, a dishtowel tossed over his right shoulder. "Take a seat wherever. Mindy will be over in a few."

"Great, thanks Len."

Carter tugs on my hand, steering me to a table near the back of the restaurant, with a clear view of all of the tables and the bar.

"This okay?" he asks.

"It's perfect." I say, sitting onto the chair Carter pulls out for me.

He sits down across from me and nods at a guy in a booth behind us.

"Do you know everyone here?" I ask, my eyes darting around. Everyone seems to be staring at us still.

"The game's starting," Lenny's voice calls out, and a few of the stares redirect to the television.

"Mostly." Carter shrugs. "This side of town is pretty small, and there aren't that many options for places to go that people can afford." He looks into my eyes as he says this, and I like how he doesn't get embarrassed the way most people do when talking about a lack of financial security. It's nothing to ever be ashamed of, and I love that Carter seems proud of his roots, of what his family has accomplished with what they have. That Daisy graduated college.

"It's nice."

He snorts.

"I'm serious. It's nice to see a community have a central place, a place where everyone feels comfortable and connected and like... home." The last word comes out as a whisper, and I study my hands, wishing I had a place like that.

Carter reaches across the table and covers my fingers with his own.

I look up and his eyes are soft, tenderness in his expression that has my chest tightening and my stomach fluttering. "I know what you mean. And you're right; it is nice. Growing up, this place really was a second home to my brothers and I. Gladys, she doesn't work here anymore but Mindy is her granddaughter, she pretty much kept us fed for a few years as we sorted things out after Mom passed. As much as a lot of the guys here bitch and moan, people have each other's backs."

I relax in my chair, grateful that he understood my meaning. Grateful that someone finally seems to understand me.

"Hey Carter." A girl strides up to our table, her hair in pigtail braids. "Hi." She smiles at me warmly.

"Hi." I smile back.

"I'm Mindy. I'll be your server tonight. Can I start you with some drinks?"

Carter looks over at me expectantly, and I open my mouth but nothing comes out. What am I supposed to order at Raf's? Do I start with a Coke since this is a first date? Or grab a beer if we’re going for a casual? Or, given the reputation of Raf’s, are shots in order? Feeling out of my league, I stare at Mindy for several seconds too long.

Carter's fingers brush mine softly, and I look at him. "Would it be all right if I order for us?" he asks, and my heart leaps in my throat that he caught my uneasiness and is trying to soothe it. And that he asked first. I nod, feeling the color as it seeps into my cheeks.

Carter winks at me before turning his attention back to Mindy. "We'll have two Heinekens, two shots of Patron, two burgers, medium," he says, looking at me and I nod, "with fries."

"Sounds good." Mindy finishes writing on her notepad.

"Did you bake the pie today, Mindy?"

She blushes and nods.

"And a piece of cherry pie at the end. It’s really the best," Carter says to me, and I smile at Mindy, who looks like she might pass out from the praise.

"I'll be right back with your drinks," she says and leaves our table in a hurry.

"She's sweet," I comment, watching her as she leans over the bar and talks to Lenny.

"She's a good kid." Carter agrees.

"So, this is the infamous Raf's?" I tease, looking around now that everyone has stopped staring at us.

"This is it." Carter leans back in his chair, his hands leaving mine. Immediately, I feel the loss of heat and miss the pressure of his fingers on mine. "I can't believe you've never been here. It's practically a rite of passage on this side of town. Everyone has their first beer here, has had a night of vomiting in the parking lot, and has danced on that bar." He points over to Lenny.

"Yeah, well, we’ll see about the dancing," I say, thanking Mindy as she drops off our drinks.

Carter shakes his head. "No way. I'm not letting you get sick and puke in the parking lot."

I wrinkle my nose. "Yeah, best to avoid that one too.”

He holds up his Heineken, tapping the neck of the bottle against mine. “To tonight.”

“Cheers.” I take a swig of the beer.

“I know this place isn’t fancy, and not exactly first date material but –”

“It’s perfect.”

Carter grins at me. "You're perfect, Taylor Clarke." He raises his beer bottle toward me again. "And this is already the best first date I've ever been on." His voice is smooth and honest, and I find my unease vanishing just as quickly as it appeared.

"To first dates." I hold up my beer.

"To you." He clinks his Heineken against mine again.

I raise the bottle to my lips and take another sip, the bitterness exploding in my mouth and coating my tongue.

"Are you up for tequila shots? I ordered them to give you the full Raf’s experience, but we can grab a couple of Cokes."

"Yes," I huff, picking up the shot glass. "Salt and lime please."

He smirks, lifting my hand off the table. Slowly, he dips his head, his eyes fastened on mine, and draws his tongue in a straight line across the space between my thumb and forefinger. His breath against my hand is warm, and the heat from his mouth blazes a trail of desire throughout my entire being. I stare at him, mesmerized, as his eyes darken and an unfathomable look flickers in their depths. Then he raises his head and takes the salt shaker, sprinkling it above my hand, so it sticks to the spot he kissed.

Nudging the lime placed on a napkin closer to me, he quickly sets up his own shot.

"To tonight," he says, tapping his shot glass against mine.

I bite my lower lip, already wishing tonight could stretch for eternity. That all dates could be this fun, this easygoing, and with this man. "Tonight," I echo, licking the salt, my tongue brushing against the spot that Carter licked just moments before. Then I toss back the shot.

The tequila hits the back of my throat and I hiss, my eyes watering.

Carer watches me closely, his face unreadable, his eyes searching, and his mouth ticking up on one side. "I've never met anyone like you, Taylor Clarke."

"Is that a good or a bad thing?"

"It's the best thing. The very best."