Chapter 36 Everett
EVERETT
“Wow,” Bea breathes as we step inside the restaurant. But while her eyes might be focused on our surroundings, I can’t take mine from her.
I know she’s feeling a little self-conscious about her body, but she really has no reason to.
She’s stunning.
Her dark hair has been curled and is hanging over her shoulders, one side clipped back with a clip; her makeup is light, showing off her natural beauty and the freckles that litter her nose and cheekbones.
And her dress…fuck me, the dress. It wraps around her curves like it’s been painted on.
The split…I rub my hand over my mouth as I try to stop myself from imagining what she may or may not be wearing underneath.
“It’s like we got out of your car and stepped right into Spain.”
Ripping my eyes away from her, I finally look around. Yeah, it’s pretty impressive. Still not as captivating as her, though.
“Have you been?” I ask as the host rushes over.
“To Spain?” I nod. “Yeah. A few times when I was growing up. This…this takes me right back. Have you?”
“No. I’d like to, though. I haven’t experienced much of Europe. Hi,” I say, greeting the host. “I’ve got a reservation for Donnelly.”
She nods with a soft smile.
“Perfect—I’ve got you out on the deck. If you’d like to follow me.”
Pressing my hand to the small of Bea’s back, I guide her forward.
Just before we step outside, she glances back at me, her eyes glittering with delight, and I swear my heart skips a beat.
“I’ve got you right here,” the host says.
“It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“Great. Make yourselves comfortable, and your server will be right over.”
After pulling Bea’s chair out, I lower myself opposite her.
“This place is incredible,” she breathes, taking in the deck before her eyes shift out to the ocean.
“I hope the food is as good as I’ve heard,” I muse, continuing to study her instead of the view.
She turns back to me, and our eyes collide. I swear the air crackles between us, just like it did that night. I should be over it—over her—by now. I’ve had her. I should be able to move on. But I can’t. She’s taken up residence in my head in a way no one ever has before.
Birds sing above us, and the sound of waves crashing fills the air. For the first time in what feels like forever, I just breathe.
My shoulders relax and I sink back into the seat.
It’s bizarre. I’m on a date with a woman. I should be freaking out. But there is something about Bea that relaxes me. Her presence is calming. The only other time I feel it is when I first step out onto the ice and glide as if I’m weightless without any demons snapping at my heels.
“Good evening, what can I get you guys to drink?” our server asks.
“Uh…” Bea starts, reaching for the drinks menu.
“What virgin cocktails do you have?” I ask, making Bea pause and look back up at me. Her eyes narrow, but I see the amusement dancing in them.
“We have a non-alcoholic sangria,” our server suggests.
“Perfect, two of those please.”
With a nod, he heads off.
“You can drink,” Bea says softly.
“What I said in the restaurant still stands. So,” I say, sliding her food menu closer as our server disappears again. “Somehow, we need to select dishes.”
She studies the options for a few minutes before confessing, “I don’t even know where to start.”
I can’t help but chuckle. “Aside from what you can’t eat, is there anything you won’t eat?”
She thinks for a moment. “Not really. I’m open to trying most things.”
“Trust me?” I ask, hoping that just like last time, she’ll tell me she does. I don’t know why I need to hear it so badly, but I do.
She takes a moment to answer, and the wait makes my heart slam against my ribs. But after a few seconds, she looks up at me from under her lashes and gives me the answer I was hoping for.
“Yes.”
“That was incredible, thank you,” Bea says as we leave the restaurant just over two hours later.
For a dinner date, the reservation was a little early.
But Bea hasn’t questioned it or asked if I have other plans.
Maybe she just thinks I booked it early so she could be home to relax.
Whatever the reason, I love that she hasn’t questioned me.
She isn’t expecting anything or here on an agenda.
It’s a welcome relief, given most of the women I spend time with want something from me, even if it is just bragging rights that they got to spend the night bouncing on my dick.
“You’re welcome. Do you think you’re going to be full for a little while?”
“For an hour at least. I might be down for dessert then.”
“Are you willing to continue hanging out with me so we can get dessert?”
“You’re not taking me home now?”
“I wasn’t planning on it,” I confess as we come to a stop beside my car.
I take one more step than I probably should, and she bumps against the door, gazing up at me with her violet eyes.
“Unless you want me to, of course.”
She bites down on the inside of her lips and swallows before finally shaking her head.
Reaching out, I twirl a loose lock of her hair around my finger. It’s so soft, and being this close allows me to remember her coconut scent from that night.
Her eyes bounce between mine, and she releases her lips as if she’s preparing to say something. But seconds pass, and no words appear.
“What is it, sweetheart?” I ask, the deep rasp of my voice giving away exactly what her proximity is doing to me.
“It’s…” Her words trail off as her eyes drop to my lips. “N-nothing. It’s nothing. What did you have planned next?”
A smile pulls at my lips as I curl my hand around the top of my car, caging her in, and whisper, “You’ll have to wait and see.”
I lean closer, and for a moment, I don’t think I’m going to be able to stop myself. I get the feeling she doesn’t want me to, either, but at the last minute, I remember who she is and why we’re here, and I tuck my fingers under the door handle and pull it open.
“In you get,” I encourage.
She stares at me, confusion warring in her gaze for a few seconds before she also remembers where we are and what we’re doing, and she lowers herself into the passenger seat, allowing me to close the door and take a moment for myself.
Once I’ve kinda got my head back on straight, I pull the driver’s door open and drop into the seat.
“Everything okay?” Bea asks, her attention making my face heat.
“Y-yeah,” I force out. “I just…didn’t expect my life to be going in this direction, you know?” Her strained laughter tells me she completely understands. “It hits me hard sometimes.”
“If you don’t want to do this, you can take me home. I’m not expecting anything from you other than your presence for our child.”
“What? No. That’s not—” I drag my hand down my face, trying to find the words.
I never usually have to worry about this kinda thing.
I’m either hanging out with teammates who typically don’t give two shits what I think, or I’m with women.
There’s only one thing I ever want from them, and conversations about feelings and shit is very much not it. In fact, the less talking the better.
“I like hanging out with you, Bea. You make me laugh, and—” I cut myself off in fear of diving too deep with someone I barely know.
But that isn’t good enough for her, because not a second later, she reaches out and covers her hand with mine and encourages, “And?”
I release a long breath before confessing.
“Despite all the unknowns here with…everything,” I say, letting my eyes drop to her stomach.
“I feel lighter, I guess, when I’m with you.
I don’t know how much research you’ve done online, or what stories you’ve read, but I often have issues with…
” I close my eyes as my heart continues to race.
What am I doing? Why am I telling her all this?
Her small, warm hand squeezes mine, and I find the words falling from my lips.
“My temper. Most of the time, I feel like I’m balancing on a cliff, ready to free-fall into emotions I don’t know how to deal with. But when I’m with you…”
Shit. Shit. Shit.
My hands tremble, and I clench my fists to try to abate it.
I grit my teeth as I try to wrangle the words I need to say.
“When I’m with you, I feel like I’ve taken a step back. Everything is…calmer.”
Silence greets my confession. Have I just majorly overstepped? Panic grips me as frustration grows. Why do I do this? Why do I always fuck up everything that’s good in my life?
“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I shouldn’t have—”
“No. No, don’t apologize,” she says in a rush, her voice rougher than it was a moment ago. “I just…I’m lost for words. That was…wow, Everett.”
Summoning some inner courage, I turn to look at her. My breath catches at the sight of silent tears racing down her cheeks.
“Shit. Don’t cry. Please, don’t cry,” I beg, that previous panic returning full force. I don’t know how to deal with emotions—especially not tears.
“I’m sorry,” she whimpers, her hands lifting to wipe the wetness away. “I don’t really have control over this right now. The other day, I cried walking to the store because a pigeon stole another pigeon’s food. It’s ridiculous,” she explains with a teary laugh.
Flipping my hand over, I thread my fingers through hers. The sight of her delicate digits twisted with my darker, calloused ones gives me pause. But so does the fact that her hand fits in mine perfectly, as if it were made for me.
“I’m glad I’m not just a nuisance in your life who brought you something you’d rather not deal with.”
Lifting my gaze, my eyes meet her tear-filled ones.
“You’re anything but a nuisance, sweetheart. No, I wasn’t expecting all this. But…aren’t all the best things in life those we don’t plan for?”
She lifts one shoulder. “Maybe. Sometimes, they’re also the worst.”
Okay, so she’s not wrong. But I have a very good feeling that meeting Bea that night and everything that’s happened since is far from the worst thing that’s ever happened to me.
She might disagree, but I don’t want to think about that right now.
“You are far from the worst thing that’s ever happened to me,” I assure her. My eyes hold hers, letting her see the sincerity within them, but after a few seconds, they drop to her rosy pink lips.
She pinches the bottom one between her teeth, and I have to fight the urge not to reach out and claim it for myself.
Will kissing her a second time be as good as the first?
“We should go,” I blurt, my voice deep and raspy.
“Yeah,” she agrees, although I swear there’s a little sadness in her tone.
Reaching out, I press the start button and bring this beast of an engine to life.
No, I didn’t just buy this car so that Bea didn’t have to climb into my truck. I wanted it anyway. But I can’t deny that she got my ass moving a little faster on it.
The drive to our next destination is short, and as we pull into the almost-empty parking lot, the sun is just beginning its descent, turning the sky a beautiful pink hue.
I look over at Bea as she takes in our surroundings, or more so, the moored boats in front of us.
“Ready for our next adventure?”