Still absorbing the information Gabe just dumped on me about Xavier, I can’t help but smile a little when I think about how protective he was. My heart flitters a little in my chest when I sneak a peek of him as we’re driving to dinner.

“Where are we going?” I ask casually, trying to lighten the somber mood in his truck.

“Surprise.” He says, taking his eyes off the road to look at me.

“I don’t like surprises.”

“I know you don’t,” he chuckles.

“Then tell me where we’re going.”

“No.”

“Why?” I ask and then stick my bottom lip out in a pouty motion.

“The lip isn’t going to work, Jess. The only thing that lip is good for is me biting it.” Well that shut me up.

“You know…” I start, pausing for a second. “You shouldn’t joke around about that stuff. I might actually think you’re serious.” I smirk and raise my eyebrow at him.

Pulling into the parking lot of Mancini’s Italian Restaurant, he parks and shuts off the engine. Reaching for the door handle, he catches my left arm.

“Who said I was joking?” he asks with intensity and fire in his eyes. He maintains eye contact with me while my blood pressure rises to unhealthy levels. I swallow, trying to wet my tongue that has gone dry.

“Were you joking?” I ask him quietly, maintaining eye contact. Studying his face, I want to run my fingers over the ridge of his jaw line, the straight line of his perfect nose, and his soft lips. As I wait for him to answer, he sighs, then releases my arm.

My eyes fall to his hand that has dropped to the center console between us. Looking back up to him, I’m caught off guard by the quick movement of his hand when I feel it rest upon my cheek. Using his thumb, he traces my bottom lip back and forth, causing my breath to hitch lightly at his gentle touch.

“Let’s go,” he whispers, his hand falling from my face, leaving my question still unanswered.

We’re seated in the very back corner of the restaurant in a booth where no one else is near us. Since it’s evening, the restaurant has turned down the lights, and most of the light is radiating from the small candles situated on each of the tables. The atmosphere is romantic, and I can’t help but notice how handsome Gabe looks right now.

Our server immediately greets us, and immediately sets her sights on Gabe, most women do.

“What can I get you drink?” she asks with a devious smile, never looking in my direction or acknowledging my presence.

“Diet Coke,” I answer abruptly. She glances at me blinking her eyes in annoyance that I answered her first. She turns her attention back to Gabe.

“Iced Tea.” He answers her without ever looking at her, or even noticing that she’s ogling over him. She leaves quickly, but not before casting one last snarky look at me over her shoulder.

“What are you going to order?” Gabe asks still paging through the menu.

“Just Spaghetti, I’m simple like that.” I say, setting my menu at the end of the table. An abrupt laugh comes from Gabe, catching me off-guard.

“You’re hardly simple.” He says, looking over his menu at me with both of his eyebrows raised.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just that, simple isn’t a word I would use to describe you.” He says sincerely. I blush at his remark.

“How would you describe me?”

“There’s no one word to describe you Jess.”

“Give it a shot.”

Give me some time to think of a word, ask me again later, he smiles at me. His full lips stretch with his large smile. His teeth are perfectly straight and bright white against the bronzed skin of his face. I nod at him, just sitting with him, looking at him, and speaking to him has left me speechless.

“What are you going to get?” I ask curiously, turning the conversation away from me.

“Not sure yet.”

Our bitchy server is back with our drinks, a breadbasket, and her shitty attitude. We place our orders, Gabe finally deciding on chicken marsala. Our server never stops smiling at Gabe, giving him flirty eyes, and leaning into him with her hip against our table. I kick him lightly under the table to get his attention and flash him a tight smile.

“That’ll be all,” he says, sending our waitress on her way.

“What?” he asks looking confused. It amazes me that he doesn’t notice the way women outwardly flirt with him.

“You know, I’m sure she’ll just give you her phone number if you just ask,” I say sarcastically. “Hell, she’ll probably drop to her knees right here if you just asked her.” A deep laugh erupts from him and he tossed his head back with laughter.

“Do you think she’s the type of girl I should date?” he asks me, leaning in across the table, his arms folded in front of him.

“I don’t know what your type is, Gabe.” I shoot back at him, narrowing my eyes.

“I think you do.”

“Well why don’t you save us both some time and energy, and just tell me,” I demand, leaning in toward him. I hate that this table is a barrier between us.

Turning his head to the side, I can see him contemplating his response. “You want to know what my type is? I’ll tell you,” he whispers. “My type is…” He pauses for a moment before continuing. “I’ll tell you after dinner,” he leans back trying to contain his smile.

“Are you kidding me?” I roll my eyes at him. “That’s two things you have to get back to me on.”

He erupts in laughter again. “I love getting you all worked up,” he says, reaching across the table and placing his hand on top of mine. My eyes drop to our hands, and I look back up to him. I feel a wave of warmth run through me at his touch. Running his thumb over the top of my hand he looks from our hands up to me. His smile fades and a more serious look sets across his face.

“I wanted to apologize again Jess, I’m really sorry if I embarrassed you tonight at Xavier’s.”

Letting out a deep breath I want to be angry with him, but I can’t. Before I have the opportunity to respond, he continues, “It’s just that, I don’t know what I would have done if something had happened to you.”

“Thank you for apologizing, again, but nothing would have happened.”

“You don’t know that,” he says sharply.

“No, I guess I don’t. But thank you for coming to get me.” I offer him a small smile.

The waitress appears with our food, and I can’t help but flash her a dirty look when she notices Gabe’s hand stretched across the table on top of mine. I’m not really hungry, but I take a few bites of the spaghetti I ordered, trying not to make a mess of myself. I notice Gabe’s demeanor has become a little more serious, and he seems distracted as if something is on his mind.

“Everything ok?” I ask, taking a small bit of the spaghetti that I’ve twirled around my fork. Looking up at me, he studies my face, and I can tell he wants to say something.

“You know you can talk to me,” I urge setting down my fork.

He nods at me then looks down at his plate of chicken marsala. Pushing the chicken and pasta around, he takes a deep breath, “I’m not going back to Arizona in the fall.”

I nearly choke on a spaghetti noodle. “What! Why not? Mom and Dad are going to flip the fuck out. What about football? Your scholarship? When did you decide this?” I ask, my thoughts are all over the place.

“You just threw about four hours’ worth of questions at me.” He laughs at me, shaking his head back and forth.

“I’m going to tell Mom and Dad this weekend. I just had to make sure that my plans were set before I made this decision and told everyone.”

“What plans?”

“What I’m going to do with my life, Jess. Why I’m staying here in Santa Ruiz,” he answers quietly.

“So you’re just giving up football and your scholarship?” I ask, my voice laced with concern. “You’re staying here?”

Nodding his head, he takes a long drink of his iced tea. “I decided at the end of last semester that I really want to be a firefighter, like Luke and Chief. I can finish my studies here and hopefully get on with the department in Santa Ruiz.”

I’m silent, more out of shock, than out of disagreement. My mind is all over the place. I’m elated that he’s staying, yet I’m scared for how Mom and Dad are going to react. I can sense his discomfort with telling me, but I’m so glad he did.

“Wow,” is all that I can seem to say.

“That’s it? Just wow?”

“I mean I’m surprised, I guess.” I smile. “You know girls totally dig firefighters, right?” I joke with him.

“Yeah, I’ve heard that,” he laughs.

“I’m glad you’re staying,” I whisper, not sure if I want him to hear me or not.

“Me too,” he whispers back.

I notice he gets lost in his thoughts again. Our server sets the bill on our table, and he grabs it.

“Thanks for dinner,” I say, hoping to pull his attention from his serious thoughts. “And thanks again for coming to get me from the party—I mean it.” This time it’s me reaching out to touch his arm. Lifting his head to look at me, he slides out of the booth.

“You’re welcome,” he says quietly as he waits for me to slide out of my side of the booth. Reaching out he takes my hand pulling me gently to a standing position. Without letting go of my hand, he laces his fingers through mine as he walks us through the restaurant and out the front door to his truck.

“Hey, remember…you still have to tell me what your type of girl is,” I say, mocking him from earlier.

He stops near the back of his truck and turns to look back at me. “How about I show you?”