Chapter 18
Eighteen
Conway
“W hat are we doing here?” Grace asks, a gentle blush staining her cheeks while I help her out of my truck. “And what’s in the backpack?”
Her hand in mine is soft and warm, and I use it to my advantage, lacing our fingers together as I lead her into the outdoor amphitheater. “Patience, Sin,” I drawl, eyeing her as she rolls her eyes, trying to appear annoyed, but the curl to her lip gives her away.
I haven’t been able to stop staring at her since I picked her up a little bit ago. Something that made driving safely a challenge. The short, olive-green long-sleeve sweater dress she’s wearing hugs her body in a sexy but tasteful way, and paired with the knee-high toffee-colored boots and the bouncy dark blonde curls hanging down her back, I can’t look away.
This is my one shot to impress Grace and show her that I’m not the guy who’s only after sex with her, like she adamantly believes I am. I’m not too proud to admit that, prior to starting whatever this is with Grace, I was that man, but I’ve also always been extremely upfront with women about that. It’s been years since I’ve planned a real old-fashioned date.
“Have I mentioned I don’t like surprises?” Grace grumbles as we find a spot on the lawn.
I chuckle under my breath while unzipping the backpack and retrieving the blanket I stashed in there. Once I lay it on the ground, I gesture for her to sit as I do the same. “Poor Grace,” I deadpan, biting back the grin wanting to slide up my face. “A man who planned a nice, thoughtful date for her. You’ll be okay waiting a little bit longer, I promise.” Again, she rolls her eyes, looking away as her hair almost hides her face enough to shield her smile. “Should you plan the next date, then?”
“If there even is a second date,” she says, tone full of sass.
“Trust me, Sin. You’ll leave here tonight wanting a second date.”
“You’re awfully sure of yourself,” she teases.
Planting my hand beside hers on the blanket, I lean in, bringing my lips to the shell of her ear. “I already told you, Sin.” My heart races at the way her breath hitches and a shiver rolls through her body. “That’s the difference between being with boys and men. I know what I bring to the table. I’m confident in what I do, and that includes the confidence I have in my ability to plan a night tailored specifically to you and the things you enjoy.” Pulling back enough to look her in the eye, I add, “So, trust me when I say, there will be a second. And if I have any say in the matter, a third, fourth, and so on.”
Peering up at me, her lips part like she’s trying to find the words to respond, but before she can, somebody’s voice takes over the loudspeaker as people file on stage, taking their places with their instruments.
“A concert?” she says under her breath as her curious gaze looks from the woman behind the mic to me.
I nod once. “A 90s country cover band. According to everybody I talked to and what I’ve seen from online forums, they’re the best on the East Coast.”
“Stop! Blue Ridge Boots?” she asks, her eyes going wide.
“Yeah. Heard of ’em?”
“Are you kidding? Their music is all over social media right now. They’re incredible ! You should hear their version of Fancy by Reba. It gives me chills every time I hear it.” Grace sucks in a breath as she shifts to sit on her knees. “Oh my gosh, I wonder if they’ll perform that tonight!”
My chest warms, watching her excitement. I talked a big game to her a minute ago about knowing there would be a second date, but the truth is, I was more than a little nervous she would find this dumb. Although, now that we’re here, it would seem it’s kismet that Blue Ridge Boots were performing in town tonight.
The band kicks off the show with some Shania, and Grace—and every other woman on the lawn—jumps to her feet, squealing as the music begins playing. I stand too, allowing myself this opportunity to watch Grace in her element. Song after song, she sings along to the lyrics loudly and dances like nobody is watching, carefree and absolutely beautiful. Being near her, being surrounded by her energy, feels like standing under the sun after a bitter winter—warm and good for the soul.
Clapping her hands together, Grace squeals and shouts over the sound of the band and the crowd cheering, “Oh my gosh, I love this song! I’ve never heard them perform this one before!” It takes me a minute, but eventually, I place the song. It’s American Honey. Shifting her body and looking up at me, a bashful smile crawls up her face. “What?” she asks as her cheeks darken.
I breathe out a small chuckle. “What?”
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
Hands stuffed in the pockets of my jeans, I shrug. “I like seeing this side of you.”
Swallowing roughly, Grace asks, “Like what?”
I take her hand, twirling her around before bringing her body flush with mine, my other hand wrapping around her hip. “You’re breathtaking when you let go and have fun,” I murmur softly against her lips. The air around us crackles, and the hundreds of people surrounding us fade away as she becomes the only thing I can focus on. The only thing I want to focus on.
Grace is the first to move, which takes me by surprise as she closes the short distance, pressing her mouth to mine. Her lips taste like strawberries as my tongue eases past them into her mouth, and she breathes out a sigh as I flick mine against hers, wanting to savor every second of this. As her body relaxes in my arms, we take the kiss deeper, and it feels different than the others. And not only because it’s the first time we’re kissing in front of anybody. Sure, it’s an amphitheater full of strangers, and not anybody who matters, but it still feels significant. It’s not a frenzied kiss in the heat of the moment as we’re ripping each other’s clothes off right before sex. It’s not a kiss meant to shut her up or piss her off.
It’s a kiss simply because it feels right. One that has my skin tingling and my heart pounding. It’s one I’ll miss the second it’s over. Grace’s eyes are hooded, and her lips puffy, as she peers up at me with a dazed look similar to how I’m feeling. Her barely-there smile tugs at my heartstrings as she murmurs, “Well, you’re full of surprises tonight.”
“And the night’s not over yet,” I drawl as we pull apart and everybody comes back into view.
Giving me a skeptical look, she flashes me one more grin before losing herself in the music again. At one point, she befriends two women next to her, and they sing along to Wide Open Spaces at the top of their lungs, and I notice that, much like me, the men who appear to be with them also can’t seem to take their eyes off their women. The final song of the evening is Fancy , exactly like Grace had hoped, and while the cover performance is incredible, the real show is the five-foot-five spitfire beside me, with her hair sweaty and now pulled into a bun, who hasn’t stopped dancing and singing. A foreign feeling rushes through me, lighting me up from head to toe, goosebumps pricking my arms as her gleeful gaze finds mine, and she smiles in a way that feels solely for me.
Once the show ends, Grace swaps numbers with the two women, and they make loose plans to get together sometime. She truly can make friends wherever she goes. It’s crowded as we head toward the exit, and it takes a while, but eventually we make it back to my truck, my hand on the small of her back the whole time.
“That was so much fun,” Grace says with a bright smile as I hold the door open for her and help her climb up into the truck.
“It was fun,” I agree before rounding the truck and getting in behind the wheel. Starting the ignition, I glance her way. “Aren’t you glad I didn’t ruin the surprise?”
Her lip twitches as her eyes narrow on me. “I plead the fifth,” she offers before glancing out the passenger window, letting her hair hide the smile she probably thinks I missed.
Shaking my head, I breathe out a laugh. This woman and her sass. I can’t get enough. “Hungry?”
She groans, hand coming to her stomach. “I’m freaking starving .”
Chuckling, I bring my hand to the back of her seat as I reverse out of the parking spot. “Well, good. Want to come back to my place? I’ve got something special there.”
Grace shoots me an unamused look. “I need actual food, Conway. You know, sustenance, not your dick.”
“What?” My eyebrows dip a moment before it hits me what she’s talking about. Laughter rumbles from my chest. “Not what I meant, Sin. What a filthy mind you have.”
Grace scoffs, but it quickly morphs into a giggle. “Like you aren’t planning to take me to bed when the night is over.”
“Putting out on the first date?” I clutch my chest. “Who do you take me for?”
“Oh, please. I know how men are?—”
“Uh-uh, what’d I say about that, Sin?”
I don’t have to look at Grace to know she’s rolling her eyes. “Whatever. All I’m saying is I know the expectations after dates. That’s all.”
Reaching over and grabbing her hand, I link our fingers together. “I’m not sure the type of guys you’ve gone out with in the past, but I don’t expect anything from you, Grace. There are no ulterior motives for taking you out tonight, nor will there be for bringing you to my house to feed you. Just because we’ve already had sex doesn’t mean you owe me your body tonight. Or any other night. Taking you out isn’t an I’ll-scratch-your-back-you-scratch-mine deal. If you want to have a bite to eat at my place before I take you home, and that’s it, that’s more than okay with me, or if you’d rather me take you home now, that’s more than okay too. Zero expectations, Grace.”
My words hang in the air for a long, silent moment. Grace’s hand squeezes mine, sending a bolt of electricity up my arm as it races through the rest of my body.
“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I said that.” The words are spoken softly. “That wasn’t me saying I wasn’t down to end the night that way.”
“You have nothing to apologize for.” I turn my head and meet her gaze before returning my focus to the road ahead of us. “You take the lead for the rest of the night. Tell me where to take you, and I’ll do that.”
She pauses briefly, and then, “Take me to your house.”