“Is this you sending someone to me, pushing me to move on?” I mumbled and wondered if, in some strange way, Tyler was trying to play matchmaker from above.
The alarm that came from hearing Easton introduce himself to RJ tonight should not have elicited the reaction from me that it did. His last name had caused my mind and my heart to collide. First the eyes and then the name. Was this some kind of sign or merely a coincidence? If they shared the same birthday or middle name, I was running for the hills.
I didn’t go home. I couldn’t. So, I drove to Lakeland instead. It would always be the one place that felt like home.
I parked my car across the street from my old house and looked from the outside in. The living room light was on, and I paused to examine who lived in the house Ty and I had once called home.
Someone in a pickup truck pulled into the driveway, and when the man got out, my eyes burned. A soldier dressed in fatigues opened the back door and pulled out a rucksack and a bottle of some sort. A sharp pain hit my chest, and in an instant, the tears fell.
This should be my life. That man should be Tyler coming home to me.
Without much thought, I grabbed my phone and dialed Tyler’s number. He’d been gone for well over a year, and until this day, I couldn’t bring myself to cancel his number or remove his name from any of our bills. Keeping his phone active was the only way to still hear his actual voice.
“Can’t talk right now, leave me a message. I’ll get back to you when I’m done flyin’ the friendly skies.”
I didn’t leave a message—I never did.
I dialed the number again, needing to hear him one more time, as I watched the man walk up the path. The front door opened, and a woman came running out. The soldier dropped his rucksack at his feet, and she leaped into his arms. I closed my eyes and turned away. There was no way I could watch them, knowing he would most likely carry her into their home just as Tyler had done all those times.
I hadn’t heard him come in, not until he had pressed his hips into my backside and rasped, “I need my girl. I missed you, baby.” He had reached around me and set the bottle of wine on the counter and his other arm around my waist.
“Pump your brakes there, soldier. I didn’t even get my kiss yet,” I didn’t mean one word of it. Tyler was home, and I missed the hell out of him. He had been gone for far too long.
“Well, give me those lips then.”
Slowly, I had turned in his arms and had pressed my palms to his chest. I couldn’t wait for him to carry me to our bedroom and make love to me. Lock ourselves away and make up for the long bout of separation . . .
“Don’t do this, Lilly. Don’t go there. You need to stop torturing yourself,” I mumbled and brushed away the tears. “I wish it was that easy to do.”
Why is it always easier to give advice than to take your own?
The light in the living room turned off, and I knew that was my cue to leave. There was nothing sitting on this street would do or prove, so I made the drive back in a complete blur.
It was after two in the morning when I got out of my car and dragged my feet to the house. I didn’t want to be alone, and I thought of how easy it had been to talk to Easton tonight. Maybe I needed to get over myself. There was nothing wrong with making a friend, right? I could use a friend. Yes, those eyes intimidated me at times, but they also gave me a sense of calm.
With that thought, I kept my head down, not wanting to look at the letters and pamphlet that still sat on my coffee table, and headed to bed.
The next day I found myself pulling into a parking spot half a block away from Mrs. Wilkes flower shop.
“What the hell, Lilly? He’s just a guy who wants to be friends,” I argued with myself as I cut the engine. “But what if he doesn’t want to see me after I basically shot him down last night?”
Walking seemed like a good choice so I grabbed my purse and got out of the car. The hundred feet or so to get there would buy me a few minutes to think of what I would say if I saw him.
What do I want to say?
I should have thought this through instead of just showing up. What if he was busy?
Too late to turn back now, I pushed the door in and made sure not to let it smack me on the ass like the first time.
The place was still a mess, only slightly neater. A few customers milled about, but there was no sign of Easton or Mrs. Wilkes.
I walked up to the counter and searched through the little bucket, hoping to find a sour apple lollipop. Just as I pulled one from the bottom of the container, a low deep voice, next to my ear, said, “What are you doing?”
Startled, my arm whacked the bucket of lollipops, causing it to tumble off the counter and send candy scattering in all directions. When I spun to tell Easton that he scared the ever-loving fuck out of me, I was met with a wide and bright smile plastered across his innocent face. His eyes danced with playful mischief.
“Easton!” I smacked at his chest. “What in the world are you trying to do, kill a girl?” I scrunched my face and hoped like hell my racing heart would slow down.
“Did you find the flavor you were looking for?” He eyed the lollipop in my hand with that damn sexy smirk.
Sour apple.
“Actually, I did.” I held it up as proof.
“Good.” He bent to pick up the fallen candy that lay on the concrete floor, and I rushed to follow.
“I can do that.”
When I looked up, we were inches apart. His warm breath brushed across my cheek, and I fought the urge to close my eyes and lean into him.
Friends. I am here to apologize and make a friend.
“So, what brings you by? I’m sure it isn’t just the lollipops.” He replaced the bucket to its rightful place.
“Ha, ha.” I pressed the side of my hip against the counter and got lost in his eyes for another second, my reasons for making the trip almost forgotten. “I want to apologize for the way I acted last night. I’m hoping you’ll let me make it up to you by buying you lunch.”
He took a step closer. “You don’t need to apologize. I just wish I knew why you reacted the way you did. Was it something I did? Something I said? It wasn’t my intention to upset you.” His finger barely touched my skin as he skimmed it along the side of my arm, causing goose bumps to erupt over my entire body.
“It wasn’t you. Yes, it was something you said, but I should have never reacted the way I did, so I hope you can forgive me.”
“I forgive you,” he answered without even giving it any thought.
Then he went on to assess my face, searching for whatever it was he thought I wasn’t saying. In all fairness, we did just meet, and I wasn’t sure if I should be spilling everything there was about me, not just yet.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Did you have somewhere in mind?”
“Hmm, let’s see, the deli or pub around the corner are good, or if you want, we could go back to the sports bar. Their food is pretty decent.”
“I’m up for whatever you’re hungry for.”
“But what do you want?”
“I’m not sure they have what I want.”
I rolled my eyes. I knew how to read between the lines and was quickly learning that was something I needed to be on top of when around Easton.
“You aren’t going to make this easy for me, are you?”
He shook his head and pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, trying not to laugh. “Nope.”
“Thanks,” I retorted and this time he laughed.
“All right then. Are you able to leave now, or should I come back?”
“I can leave now, but I only have about an hour. Still need to find that part for the refrigeration cooler. I have a shitty hunch the second cooler is going to give out on us any day now.”
“Okay. Did you need to let your aunt know you’re leaving?”
“I should.”
“You go ahead and I’ll wait for you outside.”
“All right.”
I made my way outside, but not before I got a good look at his fine physique walking away.
It was warm and sticky out and this was one of the things I would never get used to. The bell to the flower shop dinged, and Easton stepped onto the sidewalk.
“Lead the way.”
He sidled up next to me, and the second I caught wind of his masculine scent, I was at a loss for words.
“So.” He turned to look at me.
“Yes.”
“Thanks for stopping by today. After last night, I wasn’t sure if I’d get to see you again.”
“You’re welcome, and I really am sorry about my freak out last night.”
He nodded. “Do you want to tell me what I said to make you react the way you did?” I could hear the caution in his voice. I didn’t want to explain—not yet. It wasn’t that I was trying to hide the fact that I was a widow. I was more concerned about how I was going to keep my composure talking about Tyler.
“Why don’t we save that for another conversation?” I asked, hoping he wouldn’t push.
“Whenever you’re ready.”
“Thank you.”
We rounded the corner to my favorite pub, and like last night, Easton held the door open, letting me enter before him. “Thank you.”
“Don’t mention it.”
We waited at the hostess stand, and his hand touched the small of my back. Not wanting to make a big deal about it, I acted as if it was completely natural, even if it was anything but. Tyler was the only man who ever touched me in a romantic way, and Easton’s hand on me should have made me uncomfortable. It didn’t. Warmth easily flowed through me, and if I weren’t fighting an internal battle with my reaction, I would have melted against him.
“For how many?” the hostess asked.
“Two please, and if you have a booth, that would be great,” Easton replied.
“Sure, right this way.”
We followed the young woman to a dim corner. It was a short ways away from the rest of the patrons, and I held back the cringe working its way up. As I got a good look at how secluded we were from the rest of the establishment, I took a deep breath and slid onto my seat.
This feels a bit intimate for two friends just having lunch.
Easton leaned forward and softly asked, “Is this table okay?”
“It’s fine,” I replied and took the menu from the hostess. “Thank you.”
She handed one to Easton and informed us that our server would be with us shortly.
“So what’s good? I don’t think I have ever eaten here.” He was scanning his menu as he asked, and when he glanced up, butterflies fluttered in my belly, and my heart skipped a beat. “Are you all right? You have that flush look on your face again.” His lips pulled up in a knowing smirk.
“Peachy.” I put my attention back on my menu. “I always get the French Dip sandwich, but they have a good pot pie, so my brother tells me . . .” I scrunched my nose, and Easton laughed.
“I’m beginning to wonder if there is anything that you like.”
“There are plenty of things I like. I just have an extreme dislike for coffee and pot pie.”
“I’ll have to remember that. Though, I think you might be an alien. I’ve never met anyone who didn’t like coffee.”
“There are a lot of people that don’t like coffee,” I defended myself and half of America.
Easton laughed and shook his head. “Name one.”
I thought about it for a second. “I’ll have to get back to you on that.” I hid behind my menu, smiling with a giddy feeling in my chest. Easton’s sense of humor was another similarity to Tyler and a quality I found attractive.
“I think I’ll have what you’re having.” He closed his menu, and a few minutes later, our server approached our table. It took all but another minute for her to take our order and pass it along to the kitchen staff.
“This place is cozy.”
“It is,” I agreed, looking around at the pub that doubled as a sports bar. Dark mahogany wood dominated throughout, walls of mirrored glass, with the pub’s logo decorated majority of the space.
Our server came back with our sweet teas. I popped my straw in and took a sip.
“You never got to finish telling me your story last night,” I said while I held the straw at the corner of my lips.
“What if I finish my story after you tell me something about yourself?”
“Hmm . . .” I tapped my nails on the side of my mason jar. “What can I tell you that would be remotely interesting and not make you run for the hills?”
“That bad, huh?”
“I’ll let you be the judge of that.”
“Why don’t we start off with something easy, like oh, I don’t know, something you’ve never told a single soul.”
I let an easy smile pull at my lips. “Are you for real?”
“Why not, can’t be that hard?”
“Well, why don’t you start it off then? Let’s hear something you’ve never told a single soul.”
“All right, but if I tell you, do you promise you’ll tell me something?”
“Scout’s honor.” I bit the inside of my cheek to refrain from laughing.
“I bet you’ve never sold a single box of Girl Scout cookies in your life.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “Maybe not.” Easton shook his head, and I got another glimpse into the man I was starting to have a fondness for.
“Okay. Promise you won’t tell a single soul?”
”Promise.”
“No one in my family knows that I declined a full-ride soccer scholarship to the University of Washington.”
He leaned back into his seat, and our server broke the moment when she set our plates down and then asked if there was anything else we needed. Easton shook his head and thanked her. He grabbed the pepper shaker, and I didn’t like how he avoided looking at me.
“I feel like what I have to say will sound really silly now.”
“I don’t know, Lilly. I feel like I can talk to you, tell you anything, you know? I’m not sure why it feels this easy, but it does.”
I did know—sort of. It was easy to be around him, but then I felt bad. There he was, opening up and sharing something deep and personal, and I was going to tell him something that didn’t really matter one way or another.
“Your turn.” He dipped his sandwich in the au jus.
“Easton, why wouldn’t you share this with your family?”
“No way. You first. A deal’s a deal.”
“All right. Do you promise not to laugh or think I’m stupid?”
“Scout’s honor.” I narrowed my eyes playfully at him and then shrugged.
“Okay, okay. Ever since the trip I took to Vegas for spring break, I’ve wanted to become a casino dealer.”
He raised his eyebrows, slowly displaying a cocky grin. “We’ll have to make it a point to play poker sometime.” He winked. “We can start the stakes off low if you like.”
“You’re crazy if you think I’m going to play poker with you. Besides, blackjack is more my speed.” I pointed my finger at him. “I’m on to you, mister.”
The air around us went from heavy to light in a matter of seconds, and that was enough. We fell silent as we ate, but we did sneak glances between bites. For once in my life, the weight of my troubles seemed bearable.
After Easton took the last bite of his sandwich, he wiped his mouth with his napkin and glanced at his watch.
“Did you need to head back?”
“In a little bit.” He rubbed his stomach. “That was a really good sandwich, thanks for recommending it.”
“You’re welcome.” I pulled my wallet from my purse.
“I got it.”
“But you got our drinks last night.”
“And?” He smirked, and I knew I wouldn’t stand a chance at arguing with him. “You know, if you really want to make it up to me, you could always come over and hang out with me. I could cook us something. Do you like tacos?”
I loved tacos. Who in their right mind didn’t love tacos?
“Actually, that sounds great.”
“Yeah?”
“How could I pass up an offer of tacos?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure. I mean you don’t like coffee. So that right there tells me you aren’t normal.” He laughed again then tucked the bill and some cash under the corner of his plate. He stood and waited while I slid from my seat. Easton’s hand went to the small of my back; a gesture I was starting to look forward to.
Our walk back was quiet and comfortable, until we rounded the corner and stood in front of the flower shop.
“Did you want to come over tomorrow night, or is that too soon?”
“Tomorrow night is great. Is seven good?”
“Seven is perfect. Why don’t you give me your number?” Grinning, he pulled his phone from his back pocket and handed it to me.
I entered my number and sent myself a text before handing it back. He took a step backward.
I nodded and turned around, but then I smiled and tossed over my shoulder. “Seven o’clock.”
“Just buzz or call when you get here, and I’ll come down to let you in.” He took another backward step and held the door handle.
“I will.” I waved over my shoulder and then walked three blocks back to my car, wondering what in the hell I was getting myself into.