5. Aubree
FIVE
“That’s so cool!” I grin at the fish my son holds up, his features filled with pride.
“Papa said we can cook it and eat it with dinner.” Miles beams even though he’s never had fish before. He’s been looking forward to going fishing since we talked about the trip, and the fact that he caught something his first time has him even more excited. “We’re going to go again tomorrow while the girls go shopping.” He scrunches his nose up in disgust, and I laugh lightly.
“We’re gonna get our nails done too!” Evie yells from next to her brother, side-eyeing the fish.
“That will be fun. I can’t wait to see the color you pick,” I tell her.
The buzzer goes off, indicating someone is asking to be let up, so I say good night to the kids with a quick “I love you.” Even though it’s only six o’clock, I’m not sure when I’ll be home tonight. Brody wouldn’t give me any details about our date. All he said was to dress comfortably, and he would be here at six to pick me up.
Which doesn’t fit with the Brody Fields I Google stalked earlier today. I know, I know… I sound like a crazy person, but you can’t be too careful these days, and with me being a widow who lives alone with her kids, I wanted to make sure the guy taking me out isn’t some nut job. I couldn’t find much about his personal life, aside from the fact he’s thirty years old and in every picture of him, he has a woman who looks like a Victoria’s Secret model attached to his arm.
And if that wasn’t enough, I also learned that when he said he runs Fields Enterprises, he was downplaying it. He’s the active CEO and owns it with his father, who recently retired. The company is worth billions. Yes, billions.
I almost wished I hadn’t looked him up because now I can’t help wondering if I’m completely out of my element here and why the heck this wealthy man, who is only seen with size zeros, asked me out.
I came close to canceling a dozen damn times but didn’t want to be rude. I agreed to go on the date, so I’m going.
“Hello?” I say to confirm it’s Brody.
“Hey, it’s Brody.”
“I’m in 4D,” I tell him before I buzz him up.
While I wait for him to come up, I double-check my outfit. I’m wearing a pair of skinny black jeans with rips up and down the front and a long-sleeved, floral peasant top. It’s light and flowy, and paired with my heels, it can be casual or a bit dressy. Because we’re in the middle of summer, I curled my hair in loose curls since straightening it is out of the question, and I put on some light makeup—eye shadow, blush, and lip gloss—to finish my look.
When I hear a knock, I grab my purse and head for the front door, my heart thumping behind my rib cage in nervousness and anticipation.
With a deep, cleansing breath, I swing the door open and find Brody standing on the other side, looking delectable in a pair of dark blue jeans and a powder blue button-down dress shirt with the sleeves rolled halfway up his arms, showcasing his muscular forearms. Our eyes lock for a moment—my blue to his hazel—and something in my stomach stirs. I tamp it down, refusing to accept it could possibly be butterflies. I’m nowhere near ready for butterflies.
But as I try to convince myself they can’t be butterflies, I remember the first time I saw Pete, and I can’t help but compare the two. Unlike on my last date nearly two years ago, when I felt absolutely nothing, right now, as I stare at Brody, I feel something. And that scares the shit out of me.
“Hey,” he says with a sexy lopsided smile gracing his lips. “You look beautiful.” He lifts his hand, and it’s then I see the pink and yellow flowers in a vase. “I wasn’t sure what kind of flowers you liked,” he says. “So I went with the colors of your coffeehouse.”
“They’re perfect,” I choke out as I take them from him and bring them up to my nose. The scent hits my senses—a flashback of the first time Pete took me out and brought me flowers—and I close my eyes, not wanting to ruin this date before it’s even begun.
Unfortunately, when I open my eyes, Brody is frowning. “What’s wrong?” he asks. “If you don’t like them…”
“I do,” I say, opening the door wider so he can come in while I set them on the table. “It’s just that the last person who brought me flowers was my late husband.” I shake my head. “I’m sorry.” I sigh, hating myself for bringing up my dead husband to my current date.
“Hey.” He takes my hand in his and threads our fingers together, and a spark of heat courses through my veins, igniting my body on fire. “Don’t ever apologize for your feelings or for bringing him up. He was your husband and the father of your children. I can’t even imagine how hard this is for you. If you’re not ready…” He starts to remove his hand from mine, and instinctually, I tighten our grip.
“No,” I blurt out, suddenly feeling the need to see this date through. I’ve come across hundreds if not thousands of guys over the years, and not one of them made me feel this way—the way Pete made me feel. “I am. I mean, maybe not completely, but I want to be ready. I know he’s gone, and he told me to move on.” I cringe at how crazy that sounds. “He wrote me a note. He had a heart condition, and he knew his time was limited. He knew I would struggle with moving on, so he told me in his note that he wanted me to move forward… and find love again.”
Brody nods. “It sounds like he loved you very much.” He steps closer and brings our hands up between us. “I’m honored to be part of your journey in finding love again.” He kisses the top of my hand softly, his lips lingering for a few seconds, and my breath catches. Butterflies erupt in my belly so chaotically that they’re impossible to ignore or try to deny what they are.
Butterflies—just like the ones I only ever got with Pete. That has to mean something, right?
“I, um… Let me just put these on the table, and then we’ll go.” Needing a moment to sort out my raw emotions, I break our connection and walk into the kitchen to set the flowers on the center of our kitchen table. Since the place is so small, there’s no actual dining room.
“It smells like cupcakes in here,” Brody says with a soft laugh.
“I swear the sugar seeps into my pores. I literally live and breathe that coffeehouse.” We walk back out to the living room. “I’d give you a tour of my place, but really, what you see is what you get.” Besides, I’m sure my tiny apartment is the last place this guy wants to hang out in. “My room is back there, and there are two rooms for the kids. The only bathroom is down the hall.” I shrug.
Brody scans the small living area. “I like it,” he says, nodding toward the black and white photos on the wall of Heart’s from years ago. They were taken the day my grandparents opened. “It’s cute.”
“I guess,” I mutter as he walks over to the hallway wall where the kids’ artwork is framed and hung.
“You don’t like it here?” he asks, looking at each of the drawings like they’re professionals hung in an art museum.
“I hate it here.”
“Why?” he asks, genuinely sounding interested.
“Pete and I bought a townhouse just outside the city. I loved it there. We had a small yard, so the kids had space to run and play. We even had our own bathroom. I couldn’t keep it after he passed away, so I moved here to be near my grandma. It’s cheap and conveniently located near Heart’s, but I hate it. Won’t matter soon anyway. The building owner is trying to sell the place.”
He quirks a brow, so I continue, telling him something that not even Lacey knows. If she did, she would worry, and I don’t want her to worry.
“I only have six months left of my lease and then he can kick us out, which he’s made clear he’ll be doing. But the bakery has a longer lease, so he’s pissed because I’m refusing to let him buy me out of it. His parents were good friends with my grandparents, and to ensure the bakery was secure here, they signed a ridiculously long lease, but that doesn’t stop him from harassing me every chance he gets. And now, the people who are trying to buy the building have started in on me.”
I huff in annoyance. “Sorry, the whole thing just makes my blood boil. They want to turn the place into a freaking spa or something. So they think I should just move my bakery elsewhere, like it hasn’t been here for fifty years, and we don’t have enough damn spas in the city. It’s like New York is losing all of its sentimental value, you know?”
Brody nods in understanding.
“Okay, vent over,” I say with a nervous laugh, wondering if Brody’s trying to plan his escape. “Where should I send my payment for this therapy session?” Surely, a mock therapy session is not what he signed up for when he asked me out.
“You can vent any time, no charge,” he says with a playful wink as he flicks his wrist to check the time. “But we do need to get going, or we’ll be late.” He steps toward me and takes my hand in his, once again entwining our fingers—and once again, those damn butterflies make an appearance.
We’re so close that I catch a whiff of his cologne—a bit smoky like cedar wood. “You smell good,” I say because apparently, I lose my filter when I’m around this man. “What is it?”
“Tom Ford,” he says, his eyes filled with heat meeting mine. He leans in close, and I think he’s going to kiss me—and crazily enough, the thought doesn’t freak me out like it probably should—but instead, he bypasses my mouth and goes straight for my neck, the tip of his nose gliding across my flesh as he inhales deeply. “Just as I thought,” he murmurs. “Sweet, just like you.” My heart races as heat floods my body. And then, he backs up, taking the warmth with him—and like the crazy person I’m apparently becoming, I want to beg him to come back and keep me warm.
“You ready for our date?” he asks.
“Yeah,” I whisper, willing my heart to slow down. We haven’t even left for the damn date, and I’m already completely taken by this man. The way he smiles, the way he listens, the way he smells… My gaze goes to the way he’s still holding my hand. I never thought I’d be okay with another man holding my hand, yet with Brody, it feels right. I feel comfortable and don’t want to break the connection.
With his fingers still laced with mine, we head out and into the elevator. When we step onto the sidewalk, Brody guides me over to an expensive-looking burnt-orange SUV and opens the door for me. Once I’m in, he closes the door and rounds the front while I put on my seat belt and take in the vehicle. With digital everything and a display screen almost the size of my laptop, this SUV must have cost a fortune. Which makes sense since he’s rich.
“What kind of car is this?” I ask when he flips some red thing and presses a button to start the vehicle. I’ve honestly never seen anything like this before.
“A Lamborghini Urus,” he says, pulling out into the traffic. “I don’t drive often, but where we’re going, we need a vehicle.”
My brain is still stuck on Lamborghini. One night, when the kids and I had dinner with Lacey and her husband, he was talking about cars and mentioned a Lambo—as he called it—was his dream car, but since they cost hundreds of thousands of dollars, it was only a dream.
If this is the car he drives…
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” I say quickly.
“Really? Is that why your entire body stiffened in your seat and your smile disappeared? Try again.”
“It’s just…” I sigh. “I’m a single mom who owns a bakery and lives in a shoebox-sized apartment.”
“So?” He glances at me for a second before focusing back on the road.
“If this is the car you drive, I can’t even imagine your home.”
“Yeah, and?”
“And you’re fit… like muscular, and you own some crazy successful business.”
“Okay.”
“I’m just wondering what you’re doing with me when, from what I saw online, you’re always seen with some gorgeous model.” There, I said it. Maybe it makes me sound insecure—okay, it totally makes me sound insecure—but c’mon, there’s no way I’m this guy’s type.
While I wait for him to answer, he clicks his indicator on and then swerves over two lanes to pull into an open parking spot on the side of the road.
“First of all,” he says, turning his body to fully face me. “Don’t ever put yourself down in front of me again. You’re gorgeous, every goddamn inch of you. The moment I saw you, I was attracted to you. My first thought was what it would feel like to get my hands on those luscious curves.”
I gasp at his admission.
“And as far as you being a single mom goes, from what I’ve seen, being a parent is the hardest damn job. My dad was a single dad when he met my stepmom. He was struggling, my mom was struggling, and…” He swallows thickly. “I was struggling. Savy walked into our lives and took my dad and me in, loving us unconditionally. She could’ve easily said she didn’t want to deal with his baggage since I wasn’t her kid, but she didn’t. From the moment she met me, she’s treated me like her own son, and I love her like she’s my second mom.
“And my mom…like you, she was a single mom, who tried hard, who cried too many times to count, and always questioned if she was doing a good job or fucking me up. We had a lot of rocky moments, but I know she was doing the best she could, loving me as much as she could.
“So please don’t refer to yourself as a single mom like it’s a flaw… something that makes you worth less. If anything, it only adds to your value.”
He cups the side of my face and swipes a tear I didn’t even realize had fallen. “Yeah, I’m well off. From what you said, you looked me up…”
“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t a psycho,” I choke out, embarrassed.
He chuckles. “Then you know I’m worth billions. I live in a nice home and drive nice cars. I won’t apologize for that. My dad built Fields Enterprises from the ground up, and I’ve busted my ass every day to follow in his footsteps. But the size of my bank account isn’t all I am. I hope you’ll give me a chance to show you every part that makes me who I am.
“Now for the women…”
I cringe. “You don’t have to?—”
“My company owns a lot of exclusive clubs, which means the women I tend to meet are models. Those photos aren’t of me on dates. They’re at club openings. I rarely date, to be honest. I’ve been so focused on finding my place at Fields. Wanting to make my dad proud and earn my place in the company, I haven’t had time to seriously date. I don’t have a type. I’ve dated all different types of women. But I can tell you right now that I’m one-hundred-percent attracted to you. To every curve and dip. Those blue eyes and twin dimples…”
When his tongue darts across the seam of his lips, his eyes filled with lust, I’ve never felt so attractive.
“No more putting yourself down. If I didn’t want to be here, I wouldn’t be. And really, you’re the one who turned me down the first time.” He smirks playfully. “So if anyone should be insecure, it’s me.”
I bark out a laugh, thankful he’s lightened the mood and my insecurities haven’t ruined our date.
“Thank you,” I tell him.
He nods and smiles. “I’m not a dating expert, but in the future, if something bothers you, tell me, please. In my business, communication is huge, and I imagine it’s the same with a relationship.”
He squeezes my hand, then turns around, putting the SUV in drive.
“I want to be here with you,” I tell him after a few minutes. “I was reluctant to go on this date for all the reasons I mentioned, but now, I’m all in.”
“Good,” he says, “because I’m about to take you on the best first date of your life.”
“Oh, yeah, and where is that?”
“You’ll have to wait and see.” He winks playfully and steps on the gas, zipping in and out of traffic as we head over the Brooklyn Bridge.
A little while later, we drive into a parking lot filled with cars. A man stops us, and Brody shows him something on his phone that he scans before we continue on our way. I wasn’t paying attention, so I didn’t catch a sign on our way in. As Brody finds a spot nestled between two orange cones, I glance to the right and take in the gorgeous sunset overlooking the Manhattan skyline. The sky is a breathtaking mix of oranges and pinks, and I can’t help but grab my phone out of my purse and snap a couple of pictures. During the day, New York is chaos, but right now, looking out at the water, it looks so calm and beautiful.
I have no idea where we are or what we’re doing here until I see the gigantic screen hanging across a large building.
“A drive-in?” I ask in excitement. I didn’t know something like this even existed in New York.
“Yep.” He turns off the car, and we get out. I follow him to the back of the vehicle where he pops the trunk and pulls out two lawn chairs and a cooler that I assume is filled with food and drinks. I expected him to take me out to eat, maybe to a movie, but this is so thoughtful and different.
“I brought dinner and snacks,” he says once we’ve set up our chairs. “I wasn’t sure what you liked, so I brought a variety.”
“What movie is playing?” I ask as the commercials start.
“Pretty Woman.”
I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face. “That’s one of my all-time favorites. I haven’t seen it in years.”
Brody pulls out a bunch of finger foods, a bottle of wine, and a couple of bottles of water, and we spend the movie eating, drinking, and softly talking. The movie is as good as I remember, and his company is perfect. When the credits roll, I wish the night wasn’t over.
“I was thinking we could go for a walk,” Brody says as if he can read my mind.
“I’d like that.”
We pack up and head out, and Brody drives us to a park along the water. As we walk, he holds my hand, and my stomach tightens at the gesture—something that keeps happening every time he touches me. I think about how he was right: this is the best first date I’ve ever been on.
“Tell me about your kids,” he says, shocking me. The truth is, I only brought them up at Heart’s to shock him. I thought if I dropped the kids bomb, he would run—but he didn’t.
“They’re with my in-laws in Florida for the summer,” I tell him. “First time they’ve been away from me. It hasn’t even been a week, and I already miss them like crazy. They’re twins, eight years old and going into the fourth grade. Miles is four minutes older than Evie and takes his job as her big brother seriously.”
Brody laughs. “I love that. I was an only child until my brother and sister came along years later. Olivier is fourteen and about to start high school. He’s a huge techie and is currently working on making some gaming app. Penelope is the same age as your kids, and she’s girly as hell. Loves everything pink and sparkly. I take being their older brother very seriously.”
As I listen to him talk about his family, I can feel how much he loves and adores them.
“I stay busy with work,” he continues, “but I try to have dinner with my family at least once a week. Everyone loved your treats the other day. I wouldn’t be surprised if Savy stops in and buys everything you make.”
“I’ve been thinking about what you said about selling my products to other stores. Would you be able to point me in the right direction? With those assholes trying to take away my livelihood, I feel like maybe I should have a backup.”
Brody nods. “I can definitely help you. We can schedule a day and time to meet at my office. When?—”
“Oh, no,” I cut him off. “I couldn’t afford you.” I laugh nervously, not wanting him to think I’m trying to take advantage. “If you could just maybe give me a starting point, I would be so grateful.”
“How much is the company who’s trying to buy you out of your lease offering you?”
“Not enough to start over,” I say honestly. “Leases in New York have gone up. What I pay a month is almost embarrassing. I’ll never find another location anywhere in my price range. And even if it was enough, you can’t put a price on Heart’s. It’s where I grew up. When my parents didn’t want me, my grandparents took me in. I was raised in that coffeehouse. It’s where I felt safe and loved and learned of my passion for baking. It’s where I found out I got into culinary school. Where Pete proposed. Where my kids had their first birthday.”
I swipe the fresh tears from my face, hating that I keep getting so emotional around this guy. “I’m sorry,” I say not for the first time. “Dating should be fun, and I keep making it not fun.”
“Stop,” he says, pulling me toward him until our bodies are almost flush. “I’m having a great time. And I love that you already feel comfortable enough to talk to me, to confide in me. I’ve had plenty of superficial, but with you, I see something beyond the surface, something deeper.”
His eyes lock with mine and then glide slowly down my face, landing on my lips, and I know what he’s thinking because I’m thinking the same thing. He wants to kiss me. But he’s not sure if he should since I’m all over the place and this is our first date. And had someone asked me if I would be okay kissing on the first date, I would’ve said no, but now, my answer is yes.
Reading my thoughts, again, he murmurs, “I really want to kiss you.”
“So do it,” I breathe out.
His eyes ascend back to mine. “You sure?”
“Yes.” I swallow thickly. “I want you to kiss me.”
He doesn’t have to be told twice. One of his hands lands on the curve of my hip, and the other cups the side of my face. He’s a good half-foot taller than me, so he dips a little, and then his mouth connects with mine. The kiss is gentle at first, his lips brushing against mine. His tongue darts out, slowly gliding along my bottom lip, and I think he’s tasting me. His lips are the perfect mix of soft and strong, and when his tongue slides into my mouth, he tastes sweet, like the red wine we were drinking earlier, mixed with the icing from the cupcakes we had for dessert. Butterflies once again erupt in my belly, and I want to both squeal and cry because butterflies were supposed to be only for my husband, but now there they are, flying around for Brody over and over again.
After a few seconds of gentle kissing, he deepens the kiss, and my hands move between us, pulling on the front of his shirt, wanting him closer, as my tongue joins in, tangling with his. His hand glides up my side and cups the other side of my face, and I get lost in everything that is Brody Fields. His taste, his touch, the way our mouths meld together and move against each other as if we’re perfectly in sync.
When the kiss ends, he sighs softly, his forehead resting against my own as we both catch our breaths. “I had a really good time tonight.”
“I did too,” I tell him, meaning it. Lacey wouldn’t be thrilled to know that I’m already falling for the first guy I’ve gone out with. But I can’t help it. I didn’t realize how much I missed those damn butterflies until I felt them again after all these years. I know I barely know him, but I want to get to know him. I want to kiss him, talk to him, and go on more dates.
Now, I just have to hope Brody wants that too.