Chapter 7
Chapter 7
We’ve just finished devouring our delicious pasta dishes at a cute, little romantic Italian place a couple of blocks from O’Reilly’s when Seth says, “I’m so glad I passed the interrogation.”
I wipe my mouth with my cloth napkin. “I am, too.”
“You know, Darcy, you are so easy to talk to.” His smile is warm as he gazes across the table at me. He lifts the bottle of white wine out of the ice bucket beside our table and tops up my glass.
I beam at him. “Thank you,” I reply with a blush, “for the wine and the compliment.”
His smile lights up his handsome face. “You’re welcome.”
We gaze at one another like a couple of goofy teenagers for a moment. Thoughts bounce around my brain like ping pong balls.
This is so nice.
I made the right choice.
Seth Heikkinen is the guy for me.
“You’re a total champ for meeting my friends and letting them quiz you like they did.”
“That was nothing. I’ve had to deal with people questioning me about my choices before, and I always think what it comes down to is that you’ve got to know who you are. Be confident. Trust in yourself. Do you know what I mean?”
I sip my wine, admiring his confidence. Unlike Alex’s overt, in-your-face cockiness, Seth has a quiet self-assurance that isn’t at all in-your-face. “I sure do know what you mean.”
“I knew it. You and I are totally sympatico .”
“That sounds like an Italian dessert,” I joke.
“I guess it does. Speaking of which, I know you probably won’t have any, but would you mind if I order some dessert? The tiramisu here is out of this world.”
“I love tiramisu. Let’s order one each.”
His eyebrows ping up in surprise. “You eat dessert?”
“Well, yes. Is that weird to you?”
He shakes his head with gusto. “It’s awesome. My last girlfriend didn’t eat much at all. Mostly just bird seeds and carrots.”
“That sounds super delicious,” I joke.
“Yeah, if you’re a bird or a rabbit.” He reaches across the table and takes my hand in his. “I love that you eat dessert.”
“Er, thanks.” What else can I say? I know if I didn’t enjoy my food so much, I’d be a size smaller and could probably contort myself into some of those extreme yoga positions Larissa manages with ease. But in my opinion, life’s too short to worry about that kind of crap. And anyway, it would be no fun whatsoever to watch my date eat tiramisu without having some for myself.
“Do you eat birdseed and carrots when you’re not on a date?” he asks.
“Carrots, yes, because apparently, they’re meant to help me see better at night. Although I’ve begun to suspect that’s just propaganda put out by the carrot farmers because my eyesight is as good at night as it’s always been.”
“Right?”
“And as for birdseed, that would be a hard no.”
“Good to know.” He waves at the waitress, who takes our order for two tiramisu. “So, on top of all your other qualities, would you say you have an open mind?”
“I guess I do. In what way though?”
“Let me put it this way. If you see a spade, is that all you see?”
I knit my brows together. “Err, I’m not sure what you mean.”
“If you’re in a gardening shed and you pick up a spade, is a spade all you see, or do you see what it represents: possibilities.”
I blink at him. Why are we now talking about gardening tools, and how the heck did our conversation about dessert take this turn for the weird?
I need to think fast. By the eager look on his face, I can tell this is some sort of test of my character or something, and I want to make a good impression on him. I channel my inner Larissa when I reply. “I guess I could see that a spade could help you realize your gardening vision. In that way, a spade is much more than a spade.”
He leans back in his seat, shaking his head, a broad smile on his handsome Bradley Cooper face. “You see? You totally get it. A spade is so much more than just a spade.”
I beam at him. This must mean I passed! “Exactly.”
He leans toward me and takes my hand in his once more. “Do you know what, Darcy?”
“What?”
“I think I want you to meet my horses.”
“You do?”
It’s not quite meeting the friends or the parents, but it’s a great start. And his horses are clearly important to him.
He strokes the back of my hand, which sends tingles shooting up my arm. “I know it’s pretty soon, what with tonight being our first official date and all, but there’s something really special about you, Darcy Evans. I want to share my passion with you.”
My heart expands, warming my chest. Yes! This is going so well! “That would be wonderful.”
“I’ve got a show jumping event coming up. Would you like to come see me compete?”
“I would love that. I adore horses.”
“And a spade is so much more than just a spade.”
I nod. We’re back to gardening tools? I thought we’d moved on to less, well, peculiar topics.
“Next Friday at the Windsor Equestrian Centre. I’ll get you some tickets so you can bring some friends.”
“Ooh, that sounds royal. That would be amazing. Thanks.”
“I’m sure I’ll have my best event ever, knowing you’re there to cheer me on.” He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it like an old-fashioned gentleman.
#Swoon.
“I bet you look fantastic in your equestrian outfit,” I say with a flush.
He gives a modest shrug. “I guess I look the part.”
I imagine him in a smart black jacket, tan riding pants, and black boots, sitting atop a stallion. He’s every inch the dashingly handsome gentleman who can sweep me off my feet. And yes, I know this isn’t very modern, independent, I-can-do-it-for-myself-thank-you-very-much of me, but sometimes, a girl simply wants to be swept off her feet by a hot guy on a horse, you know?
“This looks so good,” I say as the waitress delivers our desserts, my mouth watering at the sight of the layers of coffee-dipped ladyfingers and mascarpone cream topped with shaved chocolate.
“No birdseed or carrot sticks in sight.”
We grin at one another over our plates before Seth says, “Well, what are we waiting for? Dig in.”
I take my first mouthful and it’s just as delicious as it looks. “Mmm, this is so good.”
“I know, right? Did you know tiramisu means ‘cheer me up’ in Italian?”
“I did not know that.”
“Not that I need cheering up,” he says, his eyes dancing.
“Me neither.”
More grinning, more belly tingles, more unadulterated happiness. I must remind myself to kiss Erin and Sophie for finding me Seth.
“Tell me more about what you do. You mentioned you’re a personal assistant?”
“I sure am. It’s a great job. No two days are the same. I can do everything from helping negotiate a price for Peruvian wind chimes to consulting with my boss over what to wear on a red carpet.”
“That doesn’t sound like the sorts of things P.A.s do.”
“Well, I work for Larissa Monroe.”
“Is Larissa Monroe the Kiwi actress who was in that Hollywood movie? Blonde, perky, married to that famous dude.”
“Todd Milson?”
“That’s the one.”
“That’s Larissa, only now she’s focusing more on her wellness business.”
“Her wellness business?” He knits his brows together. It’s adorably cute. “As in all that hippy stuff like chia seeds and quinoa?”
I press my lips together at his pronunciation of the word “quinoa.” It’s totally cute that he doesn’t know how to pronounce it, and it makes me like him just that little touch more. I widen my eyes meaningfully. “ Keen-wah is very good for you, you know,” I tease.
He tries the word out. “ Keen-wah. Is that how you say it? It looks like it should be ‘quin-oh-ah.’” He shakes his head. “However you say it, give me a steak and fries any day of the week.”
I let out a snort of laughter. “I can’t argue with that.”
“So she has a business that sells quinoa?”
“Nicely said.”
“Why, thank you.”
“Actually, she sells a whole lot of stuff as well as consults and runs seminars. She’s written a book about the evils of sugar, too.”
He loads up his spoon with another mouthful of dessert. “How can this be evil?” he says before taking a bite.
“I know, right?”
We share another grin—this is becoming a habit—and continue to talk through the rest of dessert, an after-dinner drink at a cool bar down the road, and then outside my apartment building. As we stand on the sidewalk, he steps in closer to me and places his hands on my arms. Nervousness whooshes through me. This is it. The Moment. Our first-ever kiss.
“Thank you for tonight,” he says.
I look up into his eyes. “I had a really nice time.”
“Me, too. I’d really like to do it again sometime soon.”
“You’re getting me those tickets to your show jumping event, remember?”
“How could I forget?” he says with a shoulder lift. “It’ll be wonderful to introduce you to my passion.”
“Well, I love horses, and you did mention that you’ll be wearing a full equestrian outfit, so . . .” I trail off, a flirty smile on my face.
“So?” he asks with a laugh. “I’ll try to look extra good for you.”
“I’m not sure you’ll have to try that hard.”
He loops his arms around my waist and pulls me closer to him. Knowing we’re about to share that all-important first kiss, I close my eyes and tilt my head up. A second later, I feel his lips brush against mine, and I inhale his fresh scent. Our kiss is soft and sweet, and it leaves me wanting to kiss him a whole lot more.
He pulls back a little. “Darcy?”
“Mmm?”
“I see you.”
“Close your eyes like I’m doing,” I suggest helpfully as I pucker up to kiss him once more.
He halts my progress with his hands on my arms, and I pop my eyes open in surprise.
“No, that’s not the way I mean it. What I mean is, I see you.”
I narrow my eyes at him. “You see me.”
I’m right in front of you, man. I’m the girl you were kissing moments ago. Speaking of which, I’m kinda hoping we could get back to that part again sometime soon.
“That’s right. You’re not getting it. I. See. You.” When I don’t respond, he adds, “You know, as in the ‘I get you’ kind of way?”
Why didn’t he just say that, then? It would have been so much simpler.
“Oh, right. You see me.” I give him a knowing nod. “That’s, ah, that’s good to know.”
He waits expectantly. What am I supposed to say? I wrack my brain. This is beginning to feel like a conversation with Larissa—not that we’ve ever been in this precise position exactly, but you get what I mean.
“I like that you see me, Seth. It makes me feel . . . visible.”
Did I really just say that?
“Exactly!” he almost shouts, making me jump back on my heels. “You get it. That’s all I want in a woman I date. I want her to know that I see her.”
“Well, you got it.”
“I hope you can see me, too,” he leads.
“Oh. Yes. Absolutely.”
His eyes are bright. “Say it.”
“Say it?”
“Say it.”
“Say ‘I see you?’”
“Say ‘I see you.’” He looks at me expectantly.
“Sure. Okay.” This is weird. Isn’t it? But if it’s what he needs to get him across the line so we can kiss again like normal people do at the end of a pretty darn fantastic first date, then so be it. I clear my throat. I only want to have to do this once. “Seth, I see you, too.”
He loops his arms around my waist once more and delivers a knee-weakening kiss, that whole conversation evaporating around us as we get caught up in the moment.
A perfect end to a perfect first date with a perfect, perfect guy.