17. I Always Leave Room for Dessert, Pix
I Always Leave Room for Dessert, Pix
Bree
T he knock on my door alerts me to Arlo’s arrival, and I inhale deeply. I should be embarrassed by the butterflies. I should be embarrassed by how quickly I went from suspecting his showing up here was suspicious to feeling like I wanted to be next to him the whole time, but the truth is, being around Arlo again makes me feel safe. Something about him makes me feel protected, and I almost forget Nolan Joseph exists when Arlo Harper is smiling at me in that playful way he does.
In the past, he couldn’t be seen coming to pick me up, so we would meet in secret, then he would lift me, and I’d wrap my body around his, so happy to have him to myself. Now, I pull the door open and stand awkwardly as he blows out a breath the second he looks at me and takes a slight step backward as his eyes travel the short length of my body, and I see him swallow.
When we first started dating—if that’s what you could call it. Really we never dated. W e were just together , serious from the start—he told me how my legs swinging out of my car stopped him in his tracks. I wore shorts every day that summer, and every day, he told me how he loved my legs in shorts. Then, one Saturday, when he had the day off from watching Grandma’s house, we met up at the 7-Eleven so he could take me out to a spot he loved for swimming and sunbathing. I wore a sundress, and the man almost combusted. He couldn’t get enough of me that day, and every day that I pulled on a sundress after that one, I remember the way he looked at me, the way he swallowed as though his mouth was watering.
‘That’s a pretty dress, Bree,’ he comments, and I grip the hem, hitching it up the tiniest bit as I look down. Despite my tiredness, the urge to flirt with him, the need to keep his eyes on me, is strong. It makes me feel almost normal, like I can have a normal life and show Nolan that I’m not his all at the same time.
‘You like it?’ My eyes raise to meet his as he nods, yes, holding my gaze with his, and I smile. ‘Shall we go then?’
I’m taller next to him tonight. I put on wedge-heeled sandals and closed the gap a little between his six-foot-something and my five-foot-nothing.
God, he smells amazing, and he looks so damn good. He just has on a black T-shirt and jeans, and I laugh without meaning to. He told me to dress for a date, and he’s dressed like he’s about to take an engine apart.
‘What?’ he questions, and I shake my head.
‘Nothing, just, we’re going on a date.’ I can’t help my smile as I feel his eyes on me, but I keep my focus on the diner, which thankfully, is a very short walk from my place.
Arlo pushes open the door and lets me inside, and I head for a booth.
‘Evenin’,’ Merv says, and I suck in a breath. He wasn’t supposed to be working.
‘Merv, what are you doing here tonight?’ I ask as he eyes me and Arlo. ‘Oh, um, this is Arlo. He’s my new neighbor,’ I introduce, and Arlo holds out his hand.
‘And her date.’ He grins, and my stomach turns as he shakes a smiling Merv’s hand.
‘Merv is engaged to my mom,’ I explain, and Arlo smiles.
‘Oh, okay, well nice to meet you, Merv.’
‘You too, son.’ Merv steps back, ‘holler when you’re ready.’
My stepfather winks at me and heads into the kitchen, and I know he’s about to call my mom and tell her I’m on a date. I cringe internally, wondering how I’ll explain to my mom that I was seeing somebody from the club my dad used to be a part of when I was only seventeen. Then I shake it off, remembering she was that age when she got pregnant, so she can’t say a damn thing about it.
‘Hey.’ Arlo nudges my foot with his under the table, and I raise my gaze to meet his, realizing mine had dropped to the floor at the side of the booth. ‘You good?’
Nodding, I offer a small, somewhat nervous smile.
‘I’m good. So, what are you going for?’ I reach out and tap the menu on the table in front of him.
‘Don’t know. What’s good here?’
‘Everything.’ I smile widely. ‘Merv is a genius when it comes to creating this menu. Make sure you leave room for dessert, though.’
Arlo chuckles. ‘I always leave room for dessert, pix.’
I see the naughty grin on his face as his eyes focus on the menu, and I know he isn’t talking about ice cream. I should flirt. I should take the innuendo and run with it. I want to. God, do I want to, but imagining him with other women while we were apart just hurts. It shouldn’t hurt after so long, but it does, and that is stupid. I’ve been with a lot of men, and he barely crossed my mind while I was getting mine, so I shouldn’t care about where he got his.
‘Tell me about you,’ I say to change the subject, and his ice-blue eyes lift to meet mine, but they give nothing away. ‘I don’t know much about you. You showed up here out of nowhere after so long.’ Please , tell me what I missed.
‘Not much to tell, sugar. I’m single. I own an auto shop in the city. That’s about it. That’s my story.’
‘That’s your circumstances. What’s your story, Arlo?’
He inhales deeply and blows it out, then presses his lips together, and I swallow the lump in my throat. ‘I served eight years behind bars and thought that meant the end of any prospects for me, but a friend helped me get on my feet, gave me a place to stay when I got out, invested in me and my future financially, helped me set up my business, and I’ll never be able to repay her kindness, but I’m trying anyway.’
I hold both my breath and his gaze. I didn’t expect him to be so honest, and it has me wondering about the her he’s referring to.
Choosing not to focus on questions I don’t expect he’ll answer, I think about the rest of what he said and settle on something I’ve been wondering for two decades.
‘What was it like in there?’ I ask quietly, and his jaw clenches as he grinds his teeth.
‘This is not a first date conversation, Bree.’ His voice is softer now, and he lowers his gaze. ‘I’m going to have the cheeseburger.’
He gestures to the server who heads over to take our order, and I press my lips together, wondering if he’ll ever help me understand why he cut me out of his life the way he did.
The last time I laid eyes on Arlo before he burst back into my life and my town, his face was pressed against the hood of his van, and a cop was cuffing his hands behind his back while another aimed a weapon at him just in case . My heart stopped that day. I think part of it is still there in that yard. He glared at me in a way I never understood as he was put in the back of the cruiser and taken from me. I watched the man I loved ripped out of my life, and then he stayed gone.
‘I’m going to go to the bathroom,’ I say as I slide out of the booth, and Arlo nods as I walk away. I’m not going to cry over old wounds. I healed. I moved forward, and we’re not the same kids we were back then.
Bracing myself against the basin, I take some deep inhales and blow them out. If my eye makeup wasn’t so perfect, I would splash cold water on my face, but no, I look hot, and I’m not fucking that up for a bad memory.
Taking a couple more deep breaths, I head out and back to the booth, my heart tripping at the way Arlo’s gaze eats me up as I walk toward him.
‘I really do like that dress,’ he says, smirking as I sit.
‘Good, that’s what I was going for.’
‘Merv, that was some damn good food,’ Arlo says, holding out his hand for Merv’s once more. ‘Thank you.’
‘Ah, well, we aim to please.’ Merv winks at me. ‘You kids heading out?’
‘ Merv ,’ I laugh at him calling us kids as though we’re a couple of teenagers, and he chuckles.
‘Yeah, we’re heading out.’ Arlo, without enough warning for my heart to get ready, takes my hand and leads me out of the diner, then holds it all the way home.
We don’t head straight for the cottages, choosing to enjoy the cooler evening air and walk through town, Arlo holding my hand the whole time.
It’s summer, so the sun sets late, and I was thankful for that as the last of the pinks and oranges danced across the sky and settled my nerves through the diner windows. Now, it’s nothing but inky black, punctured by thousands of tiny stars and a bright shining moon.
‘I love these country skies,’ Arlo says as he follows my gaze up while we walk. ‘It ain’t nothin’ like this in the city.’
‘We live in a beautiful spot, day and night.’
‘Sure do, pix.’ He squeezes my hand a couple of times, and the butterflies that have just about settled down start fluttering their wings again.
‘I had a nice time tonight,’ I admit. ‘I was a little nervous.’
‘A little?’ His tone is playful, and he chuckles. ‘I thought you were going to pass out.’
‘I wasn’t that bad.’ I groan, and he laughs again.
‘I had a nice time too, Bree.’
We turn toward the cottages, and I feel the hairs on the back of my neck raise up, as though we stepped into a bubble of discomfort, out of the safe place that distance and fun brought, and now, the sight of the house I always loved so much reminds me of the prison it’s become lately and I hesitate, slowing my steps. Arlo notices, turning to look at me curiously.
‘You okay?’
I nod. ‘Yeah, fine. Sorry.’
‘Not ready for the night to end?’ He smiles, and I swallow, nodding.
‘Something like that.’
Arlo steps close, and I tip my head back to look up at him. God, he’s beautiful. Streetlamps don’t do his eyes any justice, but he still holds me captive, and his hand on my back makes me feel safe.
‘This was just the beginning, princess.’
He smiles as the world around me stops turning, and I freeze.
‘What did you call me?’
I take a step back, and Arlo’s expression changes from playful to, well, something else. I see, he knows he fucked up, and I feel nauseous.
‘I don’t,’ he starts but doesn’t finish as I suck in a shocked breath.
‘ Oh my god ,’ I whisper, incapable of anything at a higher volume.
Taking another step back, I press my hand to my chest to try to slow my heart. It’s racing so fast that I feel dizzy.
‘Bree,’ Arlo says quietly as he reaches a hand forward for my arm, and I pull back.
‘It’s you. Oh god , it’s you.’ My breathing is fast as hot tears spill over my cheeks. I ignored my gut. I knew his showing up here wasn’t a coincidence, but I let him in.
‘Bree, it’s not me,’ he hisses as he lunges forward and grips my biceps before I can make my feet move. ‘It’s not me, I swear.’
Glaring up at him, I try to process what he’s saying, but the betrayal is like a brand burning into my skin, and I can’t find a way to stop the sting.
‘Come on.’ He starts to walk toward his house, and I dig my heels in to stop him from moving me. ‘Breanne.’ He steps in close and speaks quietly next to my ear as the breath in my lungs freezes, and my throat feels like it’s closing. ‘It isn’t me, but I know what’s been happening to you. I will explain everything, just move your ass. We need to get inside.’
He takes my hand and steps back, gazing down at me. I don’t know if it’s fear, residual trust, or curiosity, but I let him lead me to his house.