I’m nervous. Why the hell am I nervous?
I’ve never been more anxious about anything than I am about tonight.
I’ve dated—obviously more than dated if my medical records are anything to go by—but I haven’t been averse to dipping my toe in the proverbial dating pool in the past.
So much is riding on tonight though. I want it to be perfect. It needs to be perfect. Amy deserves nothing but the best, and I may not be perfect, but I know I’m going to be the best man for her.
Tonight is about Amy as a woman, not Amy as Brody’s mom.
That’s why I took charge of every little detail so she wouldn’t have anything to worry about. Or maybe it was so that she wouldn’t have an excuse to say no.
I’m a goner for Amy and I’m definitely sunk for her son. If I’m feeling this more than she is, I’m going to be the schmuck forced to watch some other man take the place in their lives that should—and hopefully always will be—mine.
Making my move on Amy is not something I’ve done for shits and grins. I just hope she and everyone else realizes that.
Shit, I’m well and truly fucked if this doesn’t pan out between us.
Leaving my car parked at the curb, I make my way up the pathway and through the lobby of her building, taking the stairs to the second floor. I take a moment outside her door to take a slow, calming breath, needing those few seconds to get my game face on because this could be one of the most important nights of my life. It could be the start of something that most men dream about getting their shot at.
Lifting my arm, I knock twice and it takes what seems like a lifetime before I hear the door unlock then sweep open, and with it, every ounce of oxygen left in my lungs.
“Jesus,” I spit out the moment I lay my eyes on her.
“What?” she says, looking down her front then back up at me. “Don’t tell me Brodz spit up on me.”
God, she’s cute. She honestly has no clue the effect she has on me.
“You’re gonna have to give me a minute, sweetness.” I can’t tear my eyes away from her. For the first time in a while, I’m speechless. Her dress is stunning, her makeup is flawless and her auburn hair is a sea of curls sweeping down her back. But that’s not what has rendered me mute, it’s just her and it hits me that I’m the luckiest son of a bitch I know.
“Why then?” I don’t answer, too lost in fantasies of things I just can’t do right now.
“Earth to Thomas. Why do you need a minute?”
“Maybe more than a minute . . .” I fight back the urge to push her inside and show her exactly how I’m feeling right now.
“Why?” she says, her hand going to her hip, her tone verging on annoyed.
I close the distance between us, one hand covering hers on her hip, my fingers melding with hers, the other I lift up to her face, my eyes entranced as I move a wayward tendril of hair behind her ear. I’m so close now, it’s taking everything I have not to take her against the wall and kiss her.
When her vanilla perfume hits me, I know I’m a goner. Dipping my head, I softly press my lips against her cheek, allowing myself that one moment to take her in before I give her the answer she’s waiting for.
“Because I already thought you were the most beautiful woman I’d ever met,” I whisper, my voice rough and low. “But right now, the vision of you in that dress is making it hard to fucking breathe.”
Suddenly without warning, her door is wrenched wide, the space behind her filled by the broad chest of none other than her father.
“Are you hitting on my daughter when her son and I are ten feet away?” he asks, his face thunderous and downright fucking scary.
“Gar—”
Amy steps back and rolls her eyes before turning toward him. “Dad, you think you could at least wait until the end of the date to pull the ‘scary father’ gag?”
Gareth chuckles and dips down to kiss her temple, saying, “Party pooper,” before letting her go. He looks over at me. “You take care of my girl, Thomas.”
I reach out and grab Amy’s hand, giving her fingers a gentle squeeze. “You’ve got no worries there.”
“No, I don’t think I do either,” he replies and I struggle to not laugh at Amy’s wide eyes and gaping mouth.
“Should I leave you two alone? Maybe you’d like to take my dad out instead of me?”
I pull her into my side, wrapping my arm around her shoulders. It’s a bold move on a first date but somehow, all of my nerves are gone. This feels more like a fourth date than a first. Her body relaxes into mine and all of this suddenly feels more right than anything I’ve felt before.
Right and good.
“Now off you go. Don’t worry about us. Kristy and I have everything covered.”
“Maybe it’s not you two I’m worried about,” she teases.
“Oh c’mon,” Gareth replies, feigning offense, “I’ve only given Brody one beer so far. That’s his limit. He tried to argue but I had to put my foot down.”
“Stop!” she says with a laugh. “I’m allowed to be the overprotective mom. It’s part of the job description.”
“Just as it’s my job as your father to make sure you get out there and have some fun before Brody’s old enough to drive you crazy and cause gray hair.” He turns to me. “Take her away already before she decides to barricade herself in my grandson’s room.”
“I wouldn’t do that,” she gasps, slowly and totally not inconspicuously edging back into the apartment.
Gareth quirks a brow and she quickly shuts her mouth, stopping in place. “Right. See, you were thinking about it. Have a good night, kids, and don’t come home before eleven.”
“You’re telling me not to come home until a certain time. Like a reverse curfew?”
“Yep,” he says, crossing his arms over his chest.
Brody starts to whimper from the living room instantly grabbing Amy’s attention.
“Maybe I should—”
“Nope,” Gareth and I say in unison, Gareth gently pushing his daughter out of the apartment at the same time as I grab her hand and pull her toward me.
“Have fun, do everything I would do and don’t call me, I’ll call you,” he says and I don’t miss the look of panic that crosses Amy’s face.
“Really, guys. I’ll just be a—” she stops mid sentence when her dad slams the door shut in her face. That man’s got balls the size of fucking Texas. I think I have a dude crush.
She spins to face me. “Did he just do that? Oh my God, he really just did that.”
“Sweetness,” I say, giving her fingers a reassuring squeeze. “You know that Brody is totally fine. Your father would never let anything happen to him.”
“Yeah, but—”
“We have reservations.”
“But Dad doesn’t know that.”
“Actually he does.”
“What?”
“Who do you think arranged for him to take care of Brodz?”
She falters and I take the opportunity to pull her down the corridor toward the elevator.
She directs her now narrowed eyes to mine.
“Fuck you’re cute when you’re wound up.” She puts her free hand on her hip, stopping me in my tracks, but not before I reach my arm out to push the call button.
“I’m not wound up. I’m half-pissed, half-impressed,” she says, her expression one of adorable confusion.
Unable to resist any longer, I step forward and brush my lips against her temple, resisting every urge in me to kiss her. But I want the first time to be the best first kiss in the history of first kisses. One that brands her, burns into her soul and ruins her for all future kisses from anyone but me.
Her breath hitches and I know she feels it—whatever it is—that’s going on between us. With a smile, I move away and lead her into the now open elevator.
A fifteen-minute drive later, I’m parking the car, opening her door, and leading Amy through the front doors of the restaurant, we’re met by the wide smile of my friend Enrico, the owner and a former client of mine.
“Thomas,” he says, placing his hand in my outstretched one and shaking it vigorously. He then turns his attention to Amy, his eyes moving back to mine and shining with approval.
“You, my man, are a very lucky man. She’s beautiful.” He steps forward, pulling Amy out of my reach and hugging her—a little too enthusiastically for my liking—eliciting a giggle from her mouth.
“Hi,” she squeaks.
“Feel free to give my date back, Ricky,” I muse.
“I don’t think I want to,” he shoots back, letting her go.
“Don’t make me hurt you, old man.”
“Why don’t we let the lovely lady decide who the better man is?” he replies.
I chuckle when Amy moves back and takes my hand, tangling her fingers back in mine and gratifyingly shifts to my side.
Enrico grabs his chest in mock hurt. “You wound me, chiquita.”
“The best man always wins,” I say with a smirk.
“The good ones always do,” he says back. “Now let me take you to your table.”
“Is everything ready?” I ask quietly.
“As requested.”
“What are you two whispering about?” Amy asks, quirking a brow.
“You’ll see, sweetness,” I say, dipping my head to kiss her forehead, the smell of her strawberry shampoo assaulting me in the best possible way.
She turns her now narrowed eyes on me. “Thomas, you’ve already done enough.”
“Never,” I say, squeezing her hand gently and leading her through the restaurant, up two flights of stairs behind Enrico.
When we reach a back door near the back of the restaurant, he turns to me, reaching up to clasp my shoulder.
“Enjoy, mi hijo.”
“Thank you,” Amy calls out to his retreating back, giving a little squeak when I open the door and pull her inside, shutting it behind us. We both come to a jarring halt when we take in the sight before us.
I’d asked Enrico to make it special, my only specific requests being that a huge bouquet of flowers be left on the table for Amy when we arrived and that all of the food be plated so that we’re not interrupted.
I didn’t expect the room to be lit by a swath of candles lining the walls, the floor to ceiling windows showing off the shining lights of the city, and the most romantic table setting imaginable. Definitely over and above what I could ever have come up with. I make a note to leave Enrico an even bigger tip than usual when I pay the check.
Looking down at Amy, I know all of the work I put into this night was worth it. She meets my eyes, hers wet with unshed tears but I love that she doesn’t hide her reaction.
“Thomas,” she breathes in awe as her fingers squeeze mine.
I cup her jaw as my gaze roams her beautiful face and knowing the time is right, I lift her chin with my thumb and dip my mouth to brush against hers, not looking away out of fear of missing a single second of this moment.
Her lips part and her hand glides up my arm and around the back of my neck, holding me to her as I take that very first taste of her mouth, languidly stroking my tongue against hers and groaning into the kiss. I let go of her fingers but only to wrap my forearm around her back as her body melts into mine.
We stand there breathing each other in, and as corny as it sounds, if there was ever a moment where I wanted time to stand still and for the rest of the world to fade away, it’s right now.
I ease back, loving the way she crinkles her nose and sighs when I rest my forehead against hers.
“I tried so fucking hard to wait ’til the end of the night but I couldn’t hold back anymore.”
“You don’t ever have to hold back with me. I’m right where I want to be. Well, I was a few seconds ago anyway,” she replies, her lips curling into a wry smile.
I grin. I can’t fucking help it. I don’t think I’ve ever been as happy as I am right now.
There’s something to be said for taking one’s time when they see something—or someone—they want.
With that in mind, I take a step back—more out of necessity than anything else—taking her hand in mine again and lead her to the table, pulling a chair out and pushing her in again once she takes a seat.
“The flowers are beautiful and the food smells amazing,” she says when I take my seat opposite her.
“Only the best for you, sweetness.” I lift the champagne out of the ice bucket and pour two glasses for us, handing one to her before grabbing my own.
I raise my hand, holding the flute in the air between us as she mimics the move.
“To friends, parents, and restaurant owners all stepping up to make me look good,” I toast.
She giggles and gently clinks her glass with mine. “And to the sneaky man that asked them to do it, all for me.” I chuckle and take a sip.
“You do realize you’ve set yourself up to fail now,” she says, placing the drink back on the table.
“Oh really?” I sit back in my chair and take her in. “And why’s that?”
“Because there’s no way you’re going to be able to top this night. I feel like a princess.”
I reach over and grab her hand, brushing my lips over her knuckles. “Better get used to it then because I’m just getting started.”
The food is delicious, the conversation between us seamless, but I know there’s an elephant in the room that needs to be addressed. I mean, if I was her and I knew about it, I’d be dying to know the reasons why. How does one say ‘Oh, by the way, the first time we have sex I’m likely to blow in a minute flat because I’ve been hard up for you for months and haven’t had sex in over a year’?
It’s not often a thirty-five-year-old man who lives hard, plays harder, and takes life one day at a time goes from sex on tap to nothing on the flip of a dime, or in my case the positive result of an STD test.
“Can I ask you a question?” she says.
“Of course but I’ll tell you now, yes it’s really nine inches, no I’m not joining the seminary and yes, no, maybe, and sixty-nine.”
“Sixty-nine?”
“Everyone knows that the answer is always sixty-nine.”
She bites her lip, taking a deep breath and slowly exhaling, drawing my attention to them. It just reminds me how much I want to kiss her again. How much I really want to do more than kiss her.
“So, nine inches?” she asks with a growing smile, her eyes dancing with amusement. This time I can’t hold back my laughter.
“That’s for me to know and you to find out,” I tease. “Your question?”
Her eyes drop to the table and she tries to ease her fingers out of mine. I tighten my grip slightly and she stops, but she still doesn’t say anything.
I give her time, waiting for her to talk because whatever she wants to know, I’ll tell her. I want to move forward with her with nothing between us, no secrets, no lies, and no bullshit.
“Why have you . . .” she pauses and seems to steel herself before continuing, her eyes lifting to meet mine head on. “Okay, so let’s just get this out there. The girls talk, so you know that I know about—”
“Me not having sex in fifteen months?” Her eyes widen. She obviously didn’t think it had been that long.
“Amz . . .” I say softly. “You can ask me anything. I’m an open book for you, I want you to know about me and I want you to want to know. Okay?”
She nods and I continue. “Up until last year, I was rather liberal in my appreciation of the female species.”
Amy snorts then covers her mouth as she giggles.
“Yeah, okay. Massive understatement there.”
“Maybe . . .” she says coyly, tilting her head to the side and looking fucking cute doing it.
“Then I had a situation and I decided that at thirty-four years of age, it was high time I stopped trying to stretch out my irresponsible twenties.”
When I answer it’s like her entire body relaxes. Her shoulders drop and she looks down to our joined hands, a blush creeping up her cheeks.
“Amz, I don’t have a problem with you asking. Hell, I’m glad you asked. It’s not exactly a great ice breaker now, is it?” She giggles and turns her hand over so we’re palm to palm.
“No. But I want there to be nothing between us. I mean, you have already seen my lady bits so . . .”
“So you wanna see if I’m telling the truth about the nine inches?” I tease, moving my hand to my belt and going to stand up.
Her eyes grow wide and she spits out a laugh. “No! I meant it just seems like something we should probably get out of the way. I figured it was because of the . . . thing . . .”
I try hard to hold back my grin but when she’s being cute as hell, it’s near impossible not to smile.
“The thing? You mean cla-myd-ee-a aka the situation,” I say with a grin. “It definitely wasn’t fun at the time and it’s not something I’m proud of but it gave me the kick up the ass I needed to sort myself out.”
Her lips curl up and she tilts her head to the side. “You sure it wasn’t the drink being thrown at you by the lovely lady in my bar?”
I throw my head back and bark out a laugh. “It could be. That definitely made an already bad day worse. Michelle is a special kind of human being.”
“It was entertaining at the time, for me anyway.”
“Funnily enough, that’s not what I remember about that night,” I reply, loving how relaxed she is and how she doesn’t hold back with me.
“What do you mean?”
“You didn’t judge me, you didn’t give me shit—well, no more than a smart-ass bartender would anyway.” She tilts her head, shrugging her shoulders apologetically. “You were just there for me.”
A comfortable silence falls between us, my eyes dropping to her lips as she takes another sip of champagne.
“So was there a goal in deciding to not have sex?”
And that right there is one of the things that drew me to Amy. She doesn’t shy away from anything with me anymore. A stark comparison to how she was with me before Brody’s birth, before she fell asleep in my arms, and before Cade reaffirmed what I knew already, that I had anything but platonic feelings for her.
“Yeah, to give myself time and clarity to find exactly what I’ve been looking for.”
She slants her head, her eyes studying me. “And what was that?”
“You.”
Pulling up to the curb outside her building, I turn the car off and reach for the door handle, stopping when Amy places her hand on my arm.
“Thank you.”
“Spending time with you tonight was thanks enough, sweetness.”
Her eyes go soft in the second it takes me to say my pet name for her.
“I like you calling me that.”
“I know,” I reply with a grin. “But that’s not what you’re thanking me for, is it?”
“No,” she says, biting her lip. She hesitates briefly but fuck it feels good when she reaches over the center console and places her hand over mine. “Thank you for tonight. For the dress, for the pampering, for everything.”
I want to kiss her again. I need to kiss her again.
My eyes drop to her lips—which doesn’t exactly help matters—and I imagine exactly how she’d taste and how much I want to hear her moan into my mouth.
Shit. Inappropriate boner in a semi-public place. Think of bad things. Totally non-sexy things. Definitely not her dusty pink lipstick and how I wouldn’t give a fuck if I ended up wearing it all over my face if it meant I got to kiss the hell out of her right now.
Cold showers. Icy cold showers. I contemplate how cold Lake Michigan would be right now and whether jumping in fully clothed would do anything for my current predicament.
“Thomas?” she asks and meeting her eyes I see everything I want in that one look.
Swallowing hard, I turn my hand over to lace my fingers with hers. “I want to spoil you.”
“But you don’t—” I gently squeeze her fingers, cutting her off.
“I want you to know just how much I want to give this a shot. You’ve known part of me for a few years now, you’ve known more of me the past six weeks and I want to show you all of me from now on.”
Her eyes move over my face, likes she’s committing me—or this moment—to memory. She moves closer and lifts her hands to my face, pulling my mouth down to hers, taking control of the kiss and putting all thoughts of anything un-boner related out of my mind.
All I can think of is her. All I want to think about is her.
“One last thing,” she says, giving me one last taste of her lips before leaning back in her seat, her perfect well-kissed mouth morphing into a satisfied smile.
“What’s that?” I ask gruffly.
“With everything you’ve done tonight, you’ve totally nailed this first date thing.”
“Glad to hear it.”
She leans forward and beckons me in close with a crooked finger. “I’m really looking forward to seeing what else you can nail.”