Chapter 18
Chapter Eighteen
Noah
As the waitress, Gabrielle, led us over to a private table, I let out a breath of relief. Ever since Nellie dropped the news, my head had been buzzing with a thousand thoughts. I’d always taken extra caution to use protection every single encounter I had, but…
I couldn’t for the life of me remember if I had with Nellie. From the first time I laid eyes on her, I’d been consumed. I’d written it off at the time as being really drunk, but after seeing her again, after hiring her and having her become a part of my daily life, I knew that wasn’t entirely true.
I mean, I’d still been drunk enough to not remember if I’d grabbed a condom, but I realized my hyperfocus on her wasn’t purely alcohol-driven. Something about her soul called to mine. I’d been so wrapped up in the moment, so utterly captivated.
“Here you are,” Gabrielle smiled, laying out our menus on the beautifully set table for two. There were fancy glasses full of lemon ice water and a low centerpiece of winter greenery with a touch of gold.
Gabrielle had gone to school with my older brother, Damien. They used to date back in high school, so she knew our family well. The breakup had been amicable, and she was seeing someone from Springwood, last I heard.
I’d originally chosen this venue not only because it was the most romantic place in town to dine, but because I knew Gabrielle would spread word that she’d seen me and Nellie together.
The gossip would eventually get back to the Hartley sisters, thus ensuring our little plan to throw the Hartley sisters off our backs worked out.
Only now, our little plan was shot to shit. I mean, I’d not been serious to begin with about fake dating. I’d actually wanted this to be a real date as soon as she agreed to it—but now? Now, I didn’t know what to think.
One word kept echoing in my mind: Mine.
I felt like I was moving robotically as I pulled Nellie’s chair out for her. She sat, giving me a hesitant smile, like she knew I was still grappling with what she’d told me. I pulled out my own chair, sitting down heavily.
I’d handled it well enough initially, more concerned with how upset she was and wanting to make sure she understood I didn’t judge her. Not for a single minute.
Was I miffed that she’d been with someone else? Maybe a little, but again that had more to do with the greediness I felt toward her and less to do with her choices. I knew I was no saint. I had a track record a mile long, and it was a damn miracle I hadn’t had a scare like this before.
I’d been careful, my older brother’s experience with fatherhood reminding me to take that shit seriously.
Raising kids as a single parent wasn’t easy.
I’d watched how isolating it was for Damien, not having a teammate, a partner to help with the responsibilities and concerns.
The girls’ birth mother had never been interested in parenting, so everything had always fallen on Damien, until Charlotte.
In her, he found an equal partner, someone willing to help him carry the load of parenthood.
I’d never given much thought to kids myself, always telling myself that if I found the right person, maybe.
But every time I thought back to that night I shared with Nellie, I couldn’t remember reaching for the box in my nightstand.
I remembered heated, desperate kisses and touches, smudging her makeup around her mouth a little.
Even still, she’d been a vision, those eyes captivating me—hooking me like ecstasy.
“Can I get you some of our house wine to start?” Gabrielle asked, jarring me from my thoughts. She looked between me and Nellie expectantly.
I floundered. My plan had been to order a bottle of wine to split between the two of us, but Nellie wouldn’t be drinking, and I should really refrain in solidarity or something…shouldn’t I?
“Is the winter lemonade good?” Nellie said after scanning the drink menu options.
“Oh, yes,” Gabrielle nodded her head, her brown eyes widening. “It’s made with blood oranges and cranberries. It’s got a bit of a punch-y taste to it. The cranberries give it a zing and the blood oranges add a sweet tanginess.”
“I’ll try that, please,” Nellie said. “Non-alcoholic, if that’s possible?”
“Sure is,” Gabrielle nodded, turning to look at me. “What about you, Noah? Whisky and Coke?”
I’d been there a time or two before, usually for staff holiday parties in The Loft, but I guess my drink of choice was known among our circles.
I glanced at Nellie, and she nodded, as if urging me to order whatever I wanted. Truthfully, I could use a drink. Maybe it would quiet the buzzing in my head. “Sure, yeah. That sounds great.”
“Great, I’ll be right back with your drinks,” Gabrielle said, heading off to the drink station.
Nellie bit her lip, watching Gabrielle go. “Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea.”
“Are you kidding, it’s a great idea,” I leaned back in my chair and shot a flirtatious grin at her, trying to pull myself out of my existential crisis. I could spiral later, right now I had a beautiful woman in front of me whose life was irrevocably changed.
“Well, it doesn’t really seem like a good place to, you know, talk.” She glanced around at the other tables. They were spaced out enough that it gave the illusion of privacy, but I suppose she still felt exposed.
“We could talk about that later, if that’d make you more comfortable.
” My suggestion made Nellie’s face fall.
“I mean, there’s not much more to say right now about it, right?
You are, and you’re not sure if I am,” I added, summarizing things as vaguely as I could while trying to wrap my head around it at the same time.
“Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.” Nellie picked up her glass of lemon water, taking a tiny sip. “Maybe I should have waited to say something, this feels so awkward.”
“It only feels awkward because you’re making it awkward,” I joked.
She shot me an unimpressed look.
“Seriously, if you focus on how awkward you think it is, you’re only going to make it awkward. I don’t feel awkward. Shell-shocked, maybe, but not awkward.”
Nellie’s lips twitched with a repressed smile at my honesty. “Well, what did you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know, let’s get to the heavy stuff. What are your hopes and dreams for the future? I mean, clearly motherhood is happening. But what about the other stuff?”
“What do you mean?” Nellie’s brow furrowed, and I leaned forward.
“I mean, do you want to get married?”
“Jesus, Noah, you’re terrible at dating,” Gabrielle interjected, appearing suddenly at my elbow with our drinks.
“Ah, yes. A critique of my dating skills, just what I ordered,” I shot back.
Nellie snorted, trying to hide her smile behind her hand.
“Sorry, I know you’re out of practice, but save the heavier questions for after the appetizers, maybe?” Gabrielle winked at Nellie, as if they were in cahoots.
Gabrielle had a point. We hadn’t even looked at the menu. “Fine, we’ll start with a breadbasket.”
Nellie waited until Gabrielle left again, then looked back at me. “She’s right, you know. Bringing up marriage on a first date is kind of intense.”
“Right off the top this night started intense,” the words slipped out before I could really think about how they might make her feel. I caught a hint of hurt in Nellie’s expression before she schooled her features, and it made me feel like absolute shit. The last thing I wanted to do was hurt her.
“To answer your question, I don’t know. Maybe if I found the right person, sure. But I’m not looking for a marriage commitment, I don’t even have the headspace to date right now. I’m trying to get through the next five months.”
“I guess this explains why you need time off for appointments.”
“Yeah, but I can talk to my doctor about moving my appointment day to Mondays, so I don’t leave you hanging on Fridays.”
“Don’t worry about that. Whenever you need to go, go. I’ll handle the office,” I assured her.
Gabrielle brought the breadbasket and fresh butter, setting them on the table between us. “Are you ready to order yet?”
“Sorry, Gabs. Haven’t even looked at the menu yet,” I said. “Can we get a minute?”
“Sure thing, I’ll be back in a few minutes.” Gabrielle went to check on other patrons, and I kept my mouth shut long enough for Nellie to have a look at the menu.
“Everything sounds so good, I have no idea what to order,” she said.
“It’s all incredible, but I’m probably going to go with prime New York strip loin,” I told her.
“That does sound good,” Nellie bit her bottom lip, and I could tell she was looking at the prices.
“Get whatever you want, Nell,” I told her, lifting a brow. I fully expected to pay for our evening, and I didn’t want her worrying about how expensive anything was.
Gabrielle chose that moment to reappear at our table. “Are you ready to order yet?” she asked.
I lifted my chin at Nellie, urging her to go first. “I guess I’ll have the prime New York Strip loin.”
“How would you like your steak done?”
“Medium rare, please. Could I get mashed potatoes and asparagus, too?” Nellie asked, her eyes darting to me to make sure it was okay.
“I’ll have mine done rare and a baked potato instead of mashed,” I told Gabrielle when she looked at me. She nodded, taking our menus, and headed back to the kitchen.
I grabbed a slice of the fresh bread, coating it in butter and offering it to Nellie. She took it, giving me a small thankful smile, taking a bite of the bread and closing her eyes as if savouring the taste. “Mmm, this bread is delicious!”
“Sure is. They bake it fresh every day.” I buttered a slice for myself. Nellie swallowed and took a sip of her lemonade, her eyes taking in the details of the restaurant.
I had a thousand questions I wanted to ask her, but I got the impression Nellie didn’t want to risk anyone overhearing us.
“So, how are you liking Hartwood Creek?” I asked, trying to find neutral ground.