Chapter 23
Holden
Shiloh emerged from the bedroom, ready for our date, looking gorgeous in a pair of dark slacks and a soft mauve sweater over a collared dress shirt. He looked more like a sophisticated academic than a camboy tonight, and I loved it.
And I couldn’t help wishing I’d taken the same approach.
Instead, I’d let Gray and Axel talk me into exchanging my usual black or gray button-down for a fitted royal blue one that fit tight across the shoulders and pecs, with the first couple of buttons undone at the neck and the sleeves rolled up to show my inked forearms.
I was trying too hard, and Shiloh would see right through me. I wanted this date to be perfect, damn it, and I was already screwing it up.
“You look great,” Shiloh said, eyes lighting up as he scanned me.
“No, you look great,” I said. “I look like…”
“A sexy beast,” Axel put in from where he was lounging beside Dalton. The sheriff had stopped by to let us know he’d put out some calls about Jimmie.
“Our baby is all grown up and going on his first date,” Gray chimed in, pretending to wipe a tear from his eye.
Emory elbowed him, but couldn’t hide his smile.
“Maybe we should take a photo,” Bailey suggested. “You know how Holden loves to take pics.”
I whirled to grab our coats. “Quick, let’s go before they find the camera.”
Shiloh laughed but took his puffy coat from me, tugging it on while I shrugged into my long wool coat.
Black, of course. Shiloh started to go out the door ahead of me in just the little purple coat.
But even in March, the nights were still damn cold.
I grabbed a beanie and an extra set of gloves from the coat tree near the front door.
“Aw, stay a little longer,” Axel called.
“We haven’t found the camera yet!”
I shut the door behind us, Shiloh laughing quietly beside me.
“Sorry about that. They live to embarrass me.”
“It’s incredibly sweet,” Shiloh said, breath turning to vapor in the cold air.
I raised the beanie and carefully tugged it over his hair when he allowed it. My nerves heightened, on high alert at our proximity, but we weren’t really touching. Not with the fabric of the hat between us. “There. Hopefully, it won’t mess up your hair, but if it does, you’ll still look gorgeous.”
Shiloh smiled up at me. “Don’t worry. I put enough hair product on it that a fall down a mountain wouldn’t move a strand out of place. One plus of your date not touching you: I don’t have to worry about you feeling that my hair is as hard as concrete.”
I laughed, loving how he tried to put me at ease, and held up the gloves I’d grabbed. “I’ll let you put these on too.”
“Always taking care of me,” he mused as he pulled the slightly too-large gloves over his slender fingers, and we started down the porch stairs. “Is this really your first date?”
I nearly missed a step. “N-no, not entirely.”
“It’s okay if it is,” Shiloh said softly. “I’d just consider myself lucky to be the first.”
I shot him a tight smile. “I tried dating. It didn’t go well.”
“Oh, I’m sorry. That must have been awful.”
“It wasn’t fun.” I pulled out the key fob and unlocked the GTO.
Soon, we were on the road to the Riverside Bistro, an upscale restaurant that was nice but casual, unlike the hoity-toity Silver Spoon. It had beautiful views of the river, appetizers and charcuterie boards perfect for sharing, and an extensive craft beer and wine list.
“I’m sorry,” Shiloh said, sounding awkward. “I am bringing up the worst topics for a first date. Ugh. How am I so bad at this?”
“I don’t know.” I chuckled. “But we can be bad at it together.”
“You’re good at that,” he murmured.
“At what?”
“Taking a little pressure off me. Sharing the burden. You’re always ready to carry the weight of the world, aren’t you?”
I shot him a sidelong look. “My brothers just call it bossy or controlling.”
“Well, there’s some of that,” Shiloh acknowledged, “but what I see is more nuanced. You take care of people. Sometimes, that means lecturing your baby brother to get his shit together or reminding Gray to get something done at the shop. But…I believe it’s all done with love.”
I turned at a four-way stop, heading toward the river. “That’s a flattering way to look at my need to control everything around me.”
“You don’t control me. You never once told me to stop camming when I got here. I know you didn’t love it.”
“I didn’t.” I slowed to pull into the Riverside Bistro parking lot. “I wanted to tell you to stop.”
“But you didn’t,” he said simply. “That’s the important part.”
I hoped he was right. I had controlling impulses, but as long as I could keep them in check and understand the lines that I shouldn’t cross, maybe I wouldn’t ruin the best thing that had ever happened to me.
Because I wanted to be the man Shiloh saw in me.
We got out of the car and hurried into the warmth of the restaurant.
The hostess led us to a table for two upstairs, right next to a window so large that it gave the illusion we were sitting outside.
The river glittered under the lights of the restaurant, the moon a glowing orb in the velvety dark sky.
“What a beautiful view,” Shiloh said. “Is this why you chose this place for the date?”
“Partly,” I said. “I spent a lot of time down at the river growing up. I loved to go out there at night. I used to lie on the riverbank for hours, picking out constellations. I actually wanted to go into astronomy.”
His eyes brightened as he glanced out the window once more. “I had no idea. We should go down there after we eat. You can show me.”
“It’s not too cold for that?”
“To know you better, I can handle a little chill,” he said.
The server arrived, so we made a quick perusal of the drinks menu, and I ordered an IPA while Shiloh opted for a glass of sangria.
Our conversation meandered from our jobs, to my brothers, to Shiloh’s childhood growing up. When the server returned to take our order, Shiloh asked for the young woman’s recommendation.
“The charcuterie for two is a great sampling of delicious bites from around the world,” she said. “But we have more substantial entrees as well.”
“We’ll take it,” I offered when Shiloh looked at me in question. “We can always get dessert if it’s not enough.”
He smiled. “That was my thought exactly.”
“Emory mentioned that you always ask what to order. Why is that?”
“I love trying new things, and who better to recommend a great dish than someone who works with food? It’s just a quirky little habit I picked up. It used to drive Jimmie crazy.” He winced. “Sorry. I was trying not to bring him up.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “As long as you bring up how much better I am in comparison.”
Shiloh laughed. “No question. You’re in a completely different league.”
“How did you get involved with him, anyway?” I asked. “You’re a grade school teacher. It seems an odd mix.”
“Well, he was a good liar,” Shiloh said. “I was taken in too easily. I thought being on my own since I was seventeen made me so street-smart, you know? I had to grow up so fast.”
I reached out, taking hold of his hand. “That must have been hard.”
He rolled his eyes. “No. You and your brothers know what a hard life is. I just had close-minded parents.”
“You lost them, the same as us,” I said softly. “You couldn’t count on them for unconditional love. That’s painful, no matter your circumstances.”
“Yeah,” he murmured. “I guess I always felt so alone and adrift. I was too quick to latch on to someone who said he wanted to offer me everything.” He shook his head. “I didn’t see the obvious red flags until it was too late.”
I took in his hunched shoulders, his downcast eyes, and mentally kicked myself.
“Well, I told you I’d be bad at this date stuff with you. Now I’m the one bringing up all the wrong topics.”
He gave a weak chuckle. “It’s okay. We’re getting to know each other, and that’s not always the lightest of topics. But I want to know you, and I hope you want to know me.”
“I do,” I said. “More than anyone else.”
Our food arrived, and we ate slices of gouda, crostini topped with goat cheese and roasted red peppers, genoa salami and other cured meats, and bread slathered with pear chutney.
There were so many variations of olives I couldn’t identify them all, some tiny Peruvian peppers that were like drops of smoky sugar on my tongue, and berries to round out the platter.
Thankfully, we managed to turn the conversation to happier topics, mainly me sharing stories about growing up with my brothers.
“Axel actually had one of those old Care Bears?” Shiloh exclaimed after my last story of Axel climbing into my bed one night, bear so tattered its stuffing was half falling out and one ear was hanging by only one persistent thread. “That’s adorable. Was it Grumpy Bear?”
“Sunshine Bear, I think.”
“No!”
“Yes.” I laughed. “You wouldn’t know it now, but he was the sweetest kid. Pretty much my shadow.”
I decided not to bring up that his abandonment and neglect made him clingy and fearful of losing us too.
Not to mention emotionally immature for his age.
I was trying not to trauma dump all over the entire date, and really, Axel was so sweet back then.
I wanted to share how much I loved my little brothers without casting a shadow over those memories.
“Aww,” Shiloh crooned. “I need to see pictures!”
“He might kill me for that.”
“Please!”
I grinned. “All right, we’ll hunt down some old family albums. I’d love to show you more photos of my foster mom, but she was always the one taking the pics. I think I just have her wedding photo. She’s the reason any of us are even halfway okay.”
“You’re more than halfway,” Shiloh said.
He had such faith in me. My brothers were always supportive, but there was something different about their support. They stepped in and were a buffer for me. They took the burden of touch away when I didn’t want it.
But Shiloh was challenging me to work on myself. To keep fighting for the life I wanted to live. Pushing me forward when it would be easier to hang back and hide.
I liked that about him. I wanted to be that man, the one he believed in.
We paid the check and put on our coats, but instead of returning to the car, I led Shiloh around the back of the restaurant, toward the path that ran alongside the river.
“This isn’t the exact spot where I spent most of my time,” I said. “Too much light pollution.”
We walked down the path, far enough that the bistro’s light didn’t blot out the stars.
“See there?” I pointed up, drawing my finger through the air above us, connecting stars. “There’s Orion, the hunter. See his belt?”
Shiloh craned his head back, trying to fix his eyes on where I pointed. “Maybe?”
I pulled out my phone and opened a stargazing app, then handed it to him to raise up.
“Oh, there. I see.” He smiled at me, eyes bright. “What other stars do you see?”
“The brightest one is right in front of me,” I murmured.
His cheeks were pink from the cold, his smile so sincere, and a wave of impulse overtook me.
It felt as if I were standing in the open doorway of an airplane, about to jump out. The ground was rushing up at me, scary and dangerous, but I wanted to experience the elation of flying.
“Holden?” Shiloh asked, aware of my quiet.
I let myself fall…and my lips met his in a light brush.
Shiloh gasped, surprised, and I drew back, heart pounding. I took a minute to check in. My palms were sweaty, my pulse racing, but…it wasn’t nerves. At least, not the bad kind that screamed danger and get away. This was the thrill of adrenaline.
“Sorry, I should have asked.”
“You don’t have to ask,” he breathed. “If you want to kiss me again, then—”
I returned my mouth to his, suddenly starving for the kiss.
It wasn’t affecting me the same as touch.
Maybe because my touch aversion stemmed from pain that came from hands.
I’d never gotten far enough with someone to realize that.
I’d kissed before—but only when forcing all the other touch that triggered me alongside it.
This was just lips. Lips and tongue and Shiloh’s breath.
It was still so close, so intimate, and I could never do it with a stranger. But with Shiloh? His mouth was hot, his tongue sweet from the sangria, and I liked it.
No, I loved it.
I kissed him until the wind threatened to throw us both over. Shiloh reached for me on reflex, and I caught his hand before he could grab my neck.
My nerves jangled at the close call, and I pulled back.
“Sorry!” Shiloh raised a hand to his puffy lips. “Was it the tongue? I knew that was too much—”
“I liked that,” I rasped. “A lot.” I motioned to my neck. “You almost touched—”
“Oh my god, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize. You just blew my mind, and I stopped thinking.”
“It’s okay.”
“Are you sure? If I ruined our first kiss, I’ll never forgive myself.”
I chuckled. “You didn’t ruin anything, Shy. That was everything I wanted. More than I ever expected.” I paused. “I hope you liked that kiss. I’ve not had a lot of experience.”
“Are you kidding? I could kiss you forever.”
I dipped my head until our lips were close once more. “We’ll have to practice a lot more, then. Just…no touching. Can you do that for me?”
His eyes met mine, full of heat and affection. “I can do anything for you.”
Arousal flashed through me at his easy capitulation. I was in control, just the way I liked it.
My mouth captured his once more, and the pleasure of kissing him outshone even the brightest star in the sky.