Chapter Eighteen
CARTER
Why am I nervous? This is Sophie we’re talking about. The same Sophie I’ve been on countless dates with.
But it’s not, is it?
I mean, she’s still sweet and caring, but she’s different now. Grown up. I can’t just show up and expect her to automatically like the same things. But I’ve grown up too. I’m not the same eighteen year old kid coming by to pick Sophie up for burgers and a movie.
I’m Carter Fucking Williams. I can do this.
I can take a girl on a date. Not just any girl. The girl.
I can show her how well I can treat her.
The light of the setting sun casts Sophie’s front door in a golden glow, and I take a moment to get my nerves under control. With a deep breath, I finally reach out and ring the doorbell to the townhome that she and Tom share.
Shit. I had thought that the flowers would be a good idea, but I hadn’t wanted to risk running into her at the flower shop, so I got some from the grocery store. But now she’s going to think I’d rather support Big Flora than their small business?—
“Carter!” Jordan’s eyes light up with glee when he opens the door and sees me.
“Jordan!” I mirror his enthusiasm, and we do the overly complicated handshake he spent a full hour teaching me at the rink the other day.
“Hey! I thought that was a you and me thing!” Tom calls out from behind Jordan in feigned offense.
“Sorry, Dad,” Jordan shrugs grinning, “You told me Carter was like family though, right?”
“I did.” Tom rolls his eyes, coming to stand next to his son. “Hey, man.” He finally acknowledges me. “Lookin’ sharp.”
I glance down at my outfit, a light blue button down, and dark gray jeans. It’s nothing particularly special, but I feel good about the outfit. Soph always used to tell me she liked me best in blue.
“Thanks.” I grin, then glance behind him at the stairs. “Is she almost ready, or…?”
“We’ve been sent to distract you while Aunt Fee finishes putting her face on.” Jordan supplies helpfully, and Tom lightly elbows him.
“Jordan, you weren’t supposed to say that out loud. Now she’s going to get mad at me .”
“What? It’s not like Carter thinks her eyelids are naturally gold!”
I know she already agreed to go on this date with me, but it makes me almost giddy that she’s getting ready and cares about what I think. It’s like she’s giving me a real chance.
“It’s fine, you guys,” Sophie’s voice calls from the top of the stairs. “I’m ready now.”
Then, she descends, and my jaw nearly drops. She looks so beautiful.
Her auburn hair is barely curled and frames her face. Her makeup is done, and she does, in fact, have gold eyeshadow. But what really gets me is the dress.
The sleeves of the light green dress drape off her shoulders in a way that’s innocent and sultry at the same time. The fabric scrunches around her waist before flaring out, hitting just at the knees. She has on these sexy little strappy heels that remind me just how amazing her legs are.
She’s gorgeous.
Breathtaking.
And I wasn’t lying when I told her nobody else has ever measured up.
“Soph,” I get out once I’m no longer speechless, “you look amazing.”
“Thank you.” A soft pink blush colors her cheeks.
Jordan leans in close to me, whispering conspiratorially, “You do know they aren’t actually gold, right?”
“He knows, Jordan,” Tom chides, then gently ushers Jordan out of the way as Sophie makes her way down the stairs. Tom steps toward me, speaking low so only I can hear. “Listen… I know you had your reasons last time, and I know the way it happened was for the best, but just… don’t hurt her again, okay?”
Swallowing roughly, I nod. “I don’t plan on it.”
He pats my back right as Sophie approaches. “Oh,” she acts surprised and points between Tom and I, “were you actually taking him on the date?”
“No, that’s next week.” Tom winks at her and I roll my eyes.
“You wish, Hartwell.” My tone is deadpan and Sophie laughs the light, sparkling laugh that I’ve missed so much. Smiling at the flowers, Sophie passes them off to Tom, before we bid the two of them goodbye and walk down the front steps of the porch, my hand on her lower back.
I hear the door click shut behind us and Sophie stops, looking at the vehicle on the curb. “That’s not your car.”
“You’re right, it’s not.” I grin, taking her hand and leading her to the brand new red pickup truck I rented just for our date tonight. “Does it look familiar?”
“It’s…” She looks up at me, her face shining with emotion, “it’s just like the one you used to borrow from your dad when we’d go down to the lake. It’s even the same color.”
“It’s about ten years newer, but I thought it would be nice.”
“It’s perfect.” Her smile is bright, and I would do literally anything to keep that look on her face forever.
We ride to the restaurant in comfortable silence, and it takes me back to years ago, when I would drive us to the movies, or the lake, or whatever date we had planned. My fingers itch to reach for hers across the middle console, but I hold back. She’s just opened back up to me and I don’t want to come on too strong.
I pull the truck up to the front of the restaurant and roll down my window, while Sophie looks at me in confusion, “I don’t think you can park here, Carter?—”
She’s cut off by the approach of the valet. “Mr. Williams! I can take your keys.”
“Oh,” she says quietly, shifting in her seat.
“Let me get the door for you,” I hop out of the truck, passing my keys to the valet, and make my way around to the passenger side. Sophie places her hand in mine when I move to help her out, and we walk hand-in-hand into the restaurant.
We’ve made the relatively short drive to Willow Creek, home of the nicest restaurant in a fifty mile radius—The Elysian Table. Valet, a maitre d, and a months-long waiting list for a reservation. Unless, of course, you’re an NHL hockey star.
“Mr. Williams,” the maitre d greets us when we walk in, and Sophie stiffens slightly. “Miss.” He nods at her. “Please allow me to take you two to your table.”
“Thank you,” I scan the nametag on his black vest, “Antonio.”
Once we reach our table at the back, I pull out Sophie’s seat and she gives me a tentative smile. Antonio hands us both menus, and I open mine, looking over our options. After tonight, she’ll see that I can give her the best of what life has to offer. I can provide for her.
“Good evening, Mr. Williams.” The waiter comes over and pours us glasses of water. Sophie looks down nervously, her brow furrowing. “Would you care for some wine? Any appetizers?”
“I think we need just a moment, please,” I say kindly, giving him an apologetic smile. I’m not planning on rushing Sophie’s choices, I want to get her anything she wants.
“Take your time.” The waiter nods his head and heads off to his next table, allowing us a longer opportunity to look at the menu.
Sophie seems tense tonight. Which is strange because up until we pulled up to the restaurant, she seemed at ease. Happy, even. Is she worried about something? Surely, she can’t think I’d make her pay for half the check. That must be the issue.
“I’m not sure…” Sophie trails off, and she bites her lip the way she does when she’s thinking.
“Don’t look at the prices.” The order comes out hard, so I quickly reach my hand across the table, caressing hers softly. “It’s all on me tonight, Angel. Okay?”
“The appetizers cost what I pay Kerry for a half day at the shop.” Her lips purse as her eyes briefly meet mine, but she doesn't pull her hand away. Was this a mistake, bringing her here? I know things aren’t exactly luxurious for her, but I thought… I guess I thought she’d be impressed.
“I feel massively underdressed,” Sophie mutters, eyeing the menu again.
“You look beautiful.” I put my menu down and give her a look. “You’re the most striking woman here.”
Her cheeks flush again, “Thank you, but… that’s not what I mean.” She sighs at my confused expression and gently disentangles her hand from mine, motioning around the room. “I mean, this is a summer dress, Carter. Not a fancy-ass-restaurant-dress. There’s a woman over there wearing an actual designer dress and pearls. Real pearls.”
Yeah, okay. I fucked up. This clearly isn’t a place Sophie is comfortable being, and I just got completely carried away trying to make myself look good for her.
I sigh, pushing up abruptly from the table and hold my hand out to Sophie. “Fuck it. I don’t know why I’m so nervous trying to impress you. You’ve never cared about fancy stuff before, why would you start now?”
She lets out a small nervous laugh and glances around the room. “What are you doing?”
“Do you want to get out of here?” I’m sure I’m drawing stares from other patrons of the restaurant, but my gaze is firmly on Sophie.
Her shoulders relax as she finally takes my hand. That bright smile is lighting her face again as she stands up. “Hell, yeah.”