Chapter Twenty-Two
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
Nolan
" Y ou look...different," Abel says, narrowing his eyes at me as I check my reflection in the hallway mirror.
"Different how?" I ask, smoothing down my button-up shirt for the hundredth time. It's navy blue, Annabelle's favorite color on me. Not that I chose it for that reason or anything.
"I don't know. Clean? Nervous?" My brother drops onto the couch, where Ash is already curled up watching her favorite cartoon. "Where are you going again?"
"Out," I say, purposely vague. I haven't told Abel or his wife Kara that I'm going on a date with Annabelle. It's not that I'm embarrassed, far from it, but I know they'll make a bigger deal of it than it needs to be. For now, I want to keep this night just for us.
"With?" Abel presses, never one to let things go.
"Friends," I answer, which isn't technically a lie. Annabelle is my friend. Among other things.
Kara emerges from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn. "You're being weird," she declares, setting the bowl on the coffee table in front of Ash. "Since when do you have friends?"
"I have friends," I protest, though she's not entirely wrong. Between running my construction business and raising Ash, my social circle has shrunk considerably over the years. "Umm I have y'all."
"Sure you do," Kara says, her tone making it clear she doesn't believe me. "Whatever. We'll watch Ash, you go have fun with your mysterious 'friends.'" She makes air quotes around the word.
I check my watch. I'm picking Annabelle up in twenty minutes, and it's a fifteen-minute drive to her apartment.
"Be good for Uncle Abel and Aunt Kara, princess," I say, leaning down to kiss the top of Ash's head.
She barely looks up from her show. "Kay, Daddy. Bring me back a surprise?"
"We'll see," I chuckle, grabbing my keys from the hook by the door.
"Don't wait up," I call over my shoulder as I head out, ignoring Abel's exaggerated look of shock.
The drive to Annabelle's feels both too long and too short. I'm nervous, which is ridiculous considering how intimate we've already been. But this feels different. Important. A statement of intent.
She's waiting outside her building when I pull up, and my breath catches at the sight of her. She's wearing a simple sundress, her hair loose around her shoulders, and she's the most beautiful thing I've ever seen.
"Hi," she says, sliding into the passenger seat. Her perfume fills the car, something light and floral that makes me want to bury my face in her neck.
"Hi yourself," I manage, suddenly feeling like a teenager again. "You look amazing."
She blushes, the pink in her cheeks making her eyes seem even bluer. "You clean up pretty well yourself, Mr. King."
Instead of heading toward the restaurants in our town, I take the highway toward Riverdale, the next town over. I know it's probably unnecessary, everyone in our town probably already suspects something between us, but I want tonight to be just about us, without the possibility of running into clients from work.
"Mysterious," Annabelle comments as we pass the "Welcome to Riverdale" sign. "Should I be concerned you're taking me to a remote location?"
"Only if you're afraid of competitive bowling," I reply with a grin.
Her eyes light up. "Bowling? I'll have you know I was junior league champion three years running."
"Is that so?" I raise an eyebrow, turning into the parking lot of Riverdale Lanes. "I guess we'll see about that."
The bowling alley is busy but not packed, with a mix of families, teenagers, and other couples. We get lane twelve, change into those ridiculous rental shoes, and pick out our balls.
"Ground rules," Annabelle says as she types our names into the scoring system. "Loser buys nachos."
"Deal," I agree, watching her as she bends over to retrieve her bright pink bowling ball. The curve of her back, the way her dress hugs her hips, it's nearly impossible to keep my hands to myself.
She catches me staring and smirks. "Eyes on the pins, King."
"Can't help it if the view is better elsewhere," I retort, earning me a playful slap on the arm.
She's not kidding about being good. Her first frame is a strike, and she does a little victory dance that has me laughing out loud. I manage a spare, which isn't bad considering how distracted I am.
By the fifth frame, we're neck and neck, and the competitive spirit has us both trash-talking between turns. It's the most fun I've had in years.
"You're going down," she taunts as she steps up for her turn.
"That can be arranged later," I whisper as she passes, enjoying the way her cheeks flush and her next roll goes straight into the gutter.
"Cheater." she accuses, but she's laughing.
We order those nachos halfway through,neither of us wanting to wait to see who loses,and a couple of beers. Sitting side by side in the plastic chairs, our shoulders touching, I feel a contentment I haven't experienced since I became a single dad.
"Penny for your thoughts," Annabelle says, nudging me with her elbow.
I consider deflecting, keeping things light, but that's not what I want with her. I want real. "I was just thinking how happy I am," I admit. "How right this feels."
Her expression softens, and she puts down her beer to take my hand. "It does feel right, doesn't it? Even though it's complicated..."
"Life is complicated," I shrug. "But some things are simple. How I feel about you, that's simple."
"And how do you feel?" she asks, her voice barely audible over the crash of pins and the arcade games in the background.
I look at her, really look at her, this woman who came into our lives to care for my daughter and ended up caring for my heart too.
"Like I've been given a second chance," I say honestly. "Like I've found something I didn't even know I was missing."
She squeezes my hand, her eyes shining. "Me too," she whispers.
The rest of the game passes in a blur of laughter and stolen kisses between turns. She beats me by twelve points, and I happily concede defeat.
"I let you win," I claim as we return our shoes.
"Sure you did," she laughs, linking her arm through mine as we walk back to the car.
The night air is cool, and she shivers slightly. I slip off my jacket and drape it over her shoulders.
"Such a gentleman," she teases, but she snuggles into the warmth.
"Only with you," I reply.
I'm looking forward, to more nights like this, to mornings waking up beside her, to building a future that includes her not just as Ash's nanny, but as a permanent part of our family.
It's terrifying. It's exhilarating. And it feels absolutely right.