7. Hadley #2
A riot erupts in my stomach. Butterflies, or tap dancing gnomes, I’m not sure which, have decided to go crazy. It’s just a date, Hadley. Then why does it feel like I’m standing on the edge of something big? Something important. Something life-changing.
I practice deep breathing as I walk to the door. I twist the knob, open the door, and suck in a breath.
“Hi, Hadley,” Bryce says, passing me a bouquet of mixed stems. “You look stunning.”
Oh! That’s not fair. He’s not supposed to look better than I remember!
I take the flowers and stand in the doorway, my mouth slightly ajar. Words… Say something, Hadley!
“Thank you,” I finally gasp. “I’ll just put these in water.” I turn and rush to the kitchen, grabbing a vase from the cabinet above the fridge and filling it halfway. I drop the flowers in and take a moment to inhale their sweet scent.
He got me flowers.
Once I have control of my brain again, I turn and find him standing at the door watching me, a small smile on his face. “Are you ready?” he asks, his voice unhurried like I could take all the time in the world, and it wouldn’t bother him one bit.
“I am,” I say, stepping out onto the landing and closing the door. My hands are shaking so badly I nearly drop the keys trying to lock the door.
“Here,” Bryce says, holding out his hand. “Let me.” He takes the keys and locks the door before handing them back and offering me his arm. “I hope you don’t mind Ubering? Usually, I’d drive on a date, but…”
I laugh. “I imagine that’s hard to do with your car back in Colorado.”
He nods. “Unfortunately.” He winks and opens the door for me to slide into the waiting car. Once I’m in, he closes it softly and walks around to the other side, sliding in beside me.
“You look dashing,” I say, drinking in the sight of him. Bryce in jeans and a t-shirt was handsome. Bryce in a suit… Wow. “Your suit looks like it was made for you,” I say before slapping my hand over my mouth. “Sorry,” I say, looking down at my lap. “I didn’t mean to say that out loud.”
Bryce places a finger under my chin and gently lifts my face until I’m staring into his eyes, which are warm and steady, and way too easy to get lost in.
“You never have to apologize for saying what you think,” he says. “Especially if it’s that you think I look handsome.” He winks again, and I feel those dancing gnomes swoon. Yeah, me too, gnomes, me too.
“So,” I say, changing the subject. “Where are we going?”
“I was able to get reservations at Tavern Hill. A coworker recommended it. She said it was delicious.” Bryce grins and a boyish dimple pops out. “I hope that’s okay.”
“Of course,” I say, smiling. “I’ve never been, but I’ve heard it’s wonderful.” The restaurant is on the National Register of Historic Places and on my bucket list, but I don’t share that part.
“How was your day?” Bryce asks.
“Long,” I sigh. “But good. What about you? Did you have a lot of meetings?”
“It was a busy day, but it was good. Better than yesterday.” He glances out the window and I resist the urge to ask what happened yesterday.
He doesn’t talk about his job, and I haven’t pressed.
Living in DC, you learn that there are jobs people can’t really talk about.
I’m assuming that Bryce’s job is similar.
“I’m glad it was better,” I say instead.
He offers a slight smile. “Me too.”
The car pulls up in front of a quaint brick building and glides to a stop. “I’ll get your door,” Bryce says after tipping in the app.
He comes around and opens the car door, extending a hand to help me out. “Thank you,” I say, smoothing down the skirt of my dress.
“My pleasure.” He offers me his arm again and I slide my hand into the crook of his elbow. Warmth seeps through his suit jacket and makes my fingers tingle. Before I can react, Bryce is pulling open the door and guiding me inside to the host stand.
“Welcome to Tavern Hill,” the host says. “Do you have a reservation?”
Bryce glances at me, a funny look on his face before turning back. “I do. It’s under Bryce Chambers.” Bryce seems to hold his breath as the host checks something in the computer. Interesting. Is he nervous they lost the reservation or something?
“Follow me,” the host says, grabbing two menus and gesturing for us to follow.
Bryce visibly relaxes and places his hand near the small of my back, barely making contact as he guides me through the crowded restaurant to a back corner table.
The dining area is filled with patrons dressed to the nines.
The sound of laughter and quiet chatter fills the space.
The inside is just as beautiful as I’d always imagined.
Tables are lined with white table cloths, and little vases of fresh flowers are at the center of every table.
“Here we are, sir,” the host says, stopping beside a table that seems further removed than the rest. “Our finest table, as requested.” He waits for Bryce to pull out my chair and be seated in his own before handing us the menus.
“Your server will be right with you.” The gentleman smiles kindly, gives a slight bow, and walks back through the restaurant to his post.
“Wow,” I say, glancing around the restaurant. “This is stunning.”
Bryce looks around and smiles. “It’s very nice. I’m glad Brooke, one of the women I work with, mentioned it. Sometimes getting a good recommendation while traveling can be hard.”
I stamp down the twinge of jealousy that comes when I hear a woman’s name slip past his gorgeously full, kissable lips. Which is ridiculous. I barely know him.
A server dressed smartly in all black stops at the table, filling our water glasses and leaving behind a bread basket. I take a sip of water, suddenly parched.
“I can only imagine,” I say, carefully placing the water back on the table. Tonight is not the night to let Bryce see how clumsy I get when I’m nervous.
“I’ll admit, I’m glad you haven’t been here before either,” he says, reaching for his own water glass. “I like that we are experiencing it for the first time together.”
Well, there it goes… My heart… jumping out of my chest and straight into the brick wall that is Bryce. “Me too,” I say, my voice sounding slightly elevated to my own ears. I clear my throat. “What looks good?” I ask, glancing down at the menu and taking a second to reign myself back in.
He scans the menu making small sounds of approval. “Honestly, it all looks good.”
“Welcome to Tavern Hill,” our server says, stepping up to the table. “Can I start you off with any appetizers this evening?”
“What would you recommend?” Bryce asks.
“Our bourbon-infused bacon bites are popular, or you can’t go wrong with fresh oysters on the half shell.”
Bryce looks at me. “What do you think?”
“I’d try the bacon bites. I’m not a big fan of oysters,” I admit.
He nods. “An order of the bacon bites, please.”
The server nods. “Excellent choice.” After telling us the evening's specials, he says he’ll put our appetizer in and let us have a few moments to decide.
“What do you think?” Bryce asks once we’re alone again. “I’m leaning toward the baked cod with a baked potato and steamed vegetables.”
“That sounds good,” I agree. “I think I’ll try the grilled pork chop with risotto.”
When the server reappears with our bacon bites, Bryce orders for both of us. Usually, I’d be annoyed by that, but when Bryce does it, it doesn’t feel like control. It feels like he cares. Like he’s paying attention.
“Now,” Bryce says after sampling the appetizer, “that is delicious.”
I try one and nearly groan. “You’re right. I’ve never had a bourbon-infused piece of bacon before, but that was wonderful.”
“I have high hopes dinner will be just as tasty,” Bryce says, enjoying another bacon bite. “Tell me something about yourself,” he says once he’s done chewing. “Something that you wouldn’t usually tell someone on your second date.”
“Going deep, huh?” I ask, teasing.
“I feel like our time tonight is short, and I have this crazy desire to know everything about you.” He smiles. “Whatever you’re ready to share. No pressure.”
I think for a moment before landing on something. “When I was little, I hoped one day I would be like the girls in the fairytales. That Prince Charming would show up and give me my own little library in an enchanted castle and I’d never have to do my own dishes.”
Bryce smirks. “I could see that.”
“What about you?” I ask.
He hesitates. “I didn’t think this through,” he says, chuckling. “When I was a kid, I used to dream of playing hockey with Wayne Gretzky.”
“I’m going to be honest. I’ve heard that name, but I have no idea who he is.”
Bryce laughs. “You’re so refreshing,” he says, reaching for his water glass. “He’s only the best hockey player of all time.”
I nod. “I figured as much. Growing up, we didn’t really watch sporting events or anything.”
“Really? Your dad didn’t have a favorite sport? I thought that was kind of standard for dads or something. At least, all my friends' dads seemed to be glued to the TV for one sport or another.”
I shake my head. “Nope. My dad preferred museums and tinkering with his toys in the garage. He isn’t really a sports guy.”
Bryce nods.
“Your dad was a hockey guy?” I ask.
A flash of hurt crosses his face so quickly that if I hadn’t been paying attention, I would have missed it. “He wasn’t around when I was a kid, but yeah. He’s a hockey guy.”
“Here we are,” the server says, placing the plates of delicious-smelling food in front of each of us.
Perfect timing, I think to myself. It’s clear that’s a sore subject for Bryce.
“Can I get you anything else?”
We both say no, so the server leaves us to eat in peace.
“This smells amazing,” I say, scooping up a bite of risotto and bringing it to my mouth. It’s steaming hot, so I gently blow on it before taking a bite. “Tastes amazing, too.”
Bryce takes a bite of his fish and his eyes open wide. “So good! Do you want to try a bite?” He spears a small bite onto his fork and holds it out for me.
The intimacy of taking food from his fork causes heat to fill my cheeks. I can feel them turning bright red as I lean forward and take the proffered bite.
“See?” Bryce asks, his eyes lingering on my lips for a moment causing my blush to deepen.
“You’re right. It’s amazing.”
We eat our meals each taking turns sharing a bit about ourselves between bites, and before I know it, the server is back to take our empty plates.
“Can I get you a slice of our chocolate cake?” he asks. “It’s moist and covered in a rich frosting. It’s a firm favorite.”
Once again, Bryce looks to me, letting me decide. “Want to share?” I ask.
He grins and nods.
“One slice of cake and two forks, coming right up,” the server says, and departs the way he came.
The cake turns out to be just as good as the rest of the food, and I’m stuffed by the time Bryce leads me out to the waiting car to take me home. The car ride is mostly quiet, but not in that awkward get me out of here way. Just a peaceful calm that comes from an evening spent in good company.
“Thank you for taking me there,” I say to Bryce as we approach my apartment. “It was definitely one of my all-time favorite dining experiences.”
He grins. “Was it the food or the company that earned it such high praise?” he asks. “The food, right?”
This isn’t the first time I’ve noticed Bryce’s self depreciating humor tonight, and it makes me sad. “Definitely the company,” I say, hoping he sees the truth in my words.
“I'm in town for a while longer,” he says. “Would it be possible to see you again?”
I should say no. Stop this madness before my heart gets any more involved and breaks when he ultimately leaves. “I’d love that,” I hear myself say instead.
The way Bryce smiles with his whole face, like he just won the lottery, makes me feel amazing. I don’t know that I’ve ever had someone look so happy to see me again. It’s addictive, that smile. Dangerous to my heart.
Take a risk, I remind myself. And for the first time in a long time, I think taking the risk might actually be worth it.