Chapter 19
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Titus finished early at the gym and drove to his cabin to get ready for his date.
He knew Vanessa was taking Leo for the night.
She and Emelia were quite the pair, all right. Both gushed over that dog, and he was happy that the pup had returned. Having the dog around would be company for Emelia and perhaps provide a better feeling of security for her. Most thieves were leery of robbing places when they heard a dog barking.
Tonight would be their first official date.
Sure, they spent time together, talked every night, and enjoyed lots of hugs and kisses. She was a terrific kisser.
Just last week, Emelia had jumped his bones, and he got to suck those beauties hidden under her bra. Having her rub his cock at the same time was more than satisfying.
However, he wanted more. They had agreed to wait to have sex until they knew each other better. But Titus wasn’t an indecisive man—he knew what he wanted. He wanted Emelia in his bed, her bed, hell, any bed. Titus no longer wanted to wait. He guessed Emelia felt that way, too. So tonight, after dinner, he was making a move. If Emelia wasn’t on board with that yet, what was the worst that could happen? They’d wait a little longer to make love. It didn’t matter. They would—eventually.
Of course, all the thinking about sex made Titus’s cock hard. He turned on the shower, stepped in, lathered up, and got himself off. It only took the edge off, but it was enough that he wouldn’t be walking around with a bulge in his pants.
Titus toweled off and looked in his closet. He didn’t have an extensive wardrobe since he was most often at the gym in sweats or shorts and T-shirts. But because he also worked security, he had several button-down shirts, khaki pants, sport jackets, and two suits.
Chase mentioned that The Fisherman’s Wife was more formal than other restaurants, so Titus chose the charcoal-gray suit, a white shirt and dark brown lace-up shoes.
He would pass on the tie—hadn’t worn one nor owned one, ever.
Throwing the towel in the basket, Titus trimmed his beard and applied beard oil. He wasn’t a vain man, but certain products guaranteed he didn’t look like a mountain man, plus the women liked a soft beard.
He put on some cologne that didn’t make him smell super sweet. The name had long worn off.
It didn’t take him long to dress, check himself out in the mirror, and nod. Looking good, man.
He grabbed his wallet and keys and walked out.
After looking at his watch, he realized he was way too early to pick up Emelia. He went back inside, poured himself a single-malt whiskey, and opened the sliding glass doors to the patio and sat in one of the outdoor chairs and stared into the woods. It was quiet except for some birds talking to each other and the chirping of crickets. A rustle in the bush indicated some woodland creature was up and about. A light wind whispered through the trees, and the scent of pine wafted towards him.
Chase told him ex-SEAL turned contractor Mark Stone in Black Pointe had designed and built the cozy cabins for maximum privacy. Titus didn’t know Mark well when he was in the teams, but he’d done a terrific job.
Titus took the last gulp of liquid courage and swallowed hard to calm the butterflies in his stomach. It’d been a while since he had been on a formal date. This was one of the next steps in a relationship. He looked at his watch. He was still early. His heart raced, and he was eager to leave. Maybe he’d get lucky and watch Emelia dress. Or not. It might be nice to be surprised. Outside of her fairy costume and work clothes, he’d only seen her in casual outfits.
The drive took about twenty minutes. He called Emelia to let her know he was on his way so she would let him in.
He parked in the back, went to the closed bakery, and rang the bell. Titus heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and Emelia opened the door and smiled when she saw him.
“Hi.” She stepped out of the door and locked it.
“Let me look at you,” Titus said.
Emelia twirled around and eagerly looked at him when she faced him again.
Damn cat caught his tongue. Words failed him. She looked beautiful. The flowered green dress was feminine and gauzy. She looked like a princess.
She bit her lip and looked down. Had he waited too long to tell her she looked beautiful?
“Sweetheart, you look amazing,” he said.
She gave him a big smile. “Do you like it?”
“I love it, and it looks gorgeous on you.”
“Thank you.” She looked him up and down. “You don’t look too shabby yourself.”
He rubbed his beard. “Nice and soft if you want to touch it.”
“I’ll touch it, although I’d rather be touching something else.” Emelia’s brown eyes sparkled as she licked her lips.
Hot damn! Titus resisted the urge to grab Emelia and take her back upstairs.
“Tease.” He took her arm. “Why don’t we eat first, then discuss dessert?”
“Ohhh. I like your style.”
He winked, then led her to the parking lot behind his gym.
Titus stared at his truck, then at Emelia. First mistake. Why hadn’t he borrowed a car from one of the guys? Emelia would have to take a giant step to get into the truck that could potentially ruin her dress. Her car was on its last legs, something he hoped to rectify soon.
She let out a little squeak when it took him a hot second to quickly scoop her up and place her in the seat.
Emelia grinned at him. “That was sexy.”
The woman was a minx.
She had to stop teasing him. His cock was getting harder. Titus knew for sure if he didn’t start thinking of something horrible, he’d never be able to walk into the restaurant.
He cleared his throat. “We’re going to have a little talk later about teasing and turning me on, missy.”
“Oh, I sure hope so,” she said with a smirk.
Titus shook his head and closed her door. He got into the driver’s side, helped Emelia with the seat belt. Not that she couldn’t do it herself, but hey, he got to get close to her. He started the truck and headed towards the restaurant.
“Have you ever been to The Fisherman’s Wife before?” she asked.
“No. Chase told me it’s romantic and the food is delicious,” he replied. “I thought it would be perfect for our first official date.”
Emelia reached over and rubbed his arm. “Thank you.”
“For what? Making reservations at a nice restaurant?”
“No. For making our first official date special.”
They rode in silence until he saw the restaurant. Valet parking was available, and he was handed a ticket. Titus walked to the passenger side and lifted Emelia out.
“You don’t have to do that.”
“I do. I don’t want you to get hurt or ruin your dress by getting in or out.”
They walked into the restaurant, and Emelia stopped short. The restaurant was lit with thousands of twinkling lights. “I feel like I’ve walked into one of my dreams,” she said. “This is so romantic.”
Titus had to agree.
Inside the lighting was not excessive, but it created a mystical atmosphere. Candles on each of the white-clothed tables cast customers’ faces in soft light. Piano music played in the background.
The hostess arrived and guided them to a corner table by the windows and the lake.
He pulled out Emelia’s chair. She sat, looked around, and sighed. “Titus, this is perfect.”
“It is beautiful,” he replied. “Not as beautiful as you, though.” Titus looked at Emelia with her face glowing from the candlelight, the green dress shimmering in the light. She had pulled her dark hair into some kind of knot at the back of her head, with wisps of hair surrounding her face. She looked like a princess, that is, if he believed in such things.
A server approached with a wine list and menu, promising to return for their order.
“Oh my, everything sounds delicious,” she said as she perused the menu. “I’m going to try a French 75 with St. Germain this time.”
“You had that on Halloween. What’s in it?”
“It’s champagne, gin and St. Germain, which is an elderflower liquor, and a twist of lemon.”
“It’s an unusual name for a drink.”
Emelia’s eyes twinkled. “It just so happens that they named the drink after a French 75-millimeter field gun used during World War 1. In the 1900s, Harry’s Bar named it the 75, then it became the French 75.”
He looked at her and shook his head. “You have a wealth of knowledge.”
“Nah.” Emelia blushed. “I’m really good at food and drink, not so much other things.”
“Well, that was interesting.”
The wine steward approached and asked if they had any questions and what they would like to start with.
Titus looked at Emelia and cocked his head, silently asking her what she wanted to do. Vanessa reminded him that some women liked to order their own food and drink. He remembered he made that faux paus from their first encounter at the Thirsty Cock.
“Go ahead,” said Emelia.
“My date would like a French 75, and I’d like the Oban 14-year-old neat.”
“Good choices,” said the wine steward. “I’ll be right back with your drinks.”
“Ah, a scotch drinker,” said Emelia. “I’ve never been able to appreciate it.”
Titus laughed. “The Oban has a great reputation. I wanted to try it before I invest in a bottle.”
A server placed their drinks in front of them as they picked up the menus. Titus was amazed at the choices listed on the menu. He wondered what Emelia would order. For him, he was a steak and potatoes guy.
“What are you thinking about having?” he asked.
“So many choices.” She sighed. “I think I’m going with the pan-roasted duck breast with French green lentils, bacon lardons, carrot puree, and topped with crispy carrots.” She looked over the menu at Titus. “What about you?”
“Steak and potatoes all the way. Do you want an appetizer?”
“I’d like to try the scallop crudo.”
He looked at the menu. Raw scallops and fruit? Nope to that. “I’ll get the shrimp cocktail.”
“An adventurous diner, I see.”
Titus laughed. “True.” He shrugged. “It’s what I like.”
“I’m teasing you.” Her brow furrowed. “Please don’t take it as anything else.”
He reached for her hand. “You’re not hurting my feelings. I grew up not knowing where my next meal was coming from. The service served SOS, shit on a shingle. A steak for me means I’ve made it big-time.”
“I hear you. My family loves steak, and that’s all they order when they dine out. I’m the one who likes to try new things.”
“Tell me more about your family.”
“Well, they live in New York. I have a sister and brother, and we had a wonderful childhood. My family are overachievers, and all are lawyers. The siblings are happy and married.” She giggled. “I went to the CIA, competed in a cooking show on TV, and won. I’m the black sheep in the family.”
“CIA? Are you a spy? A bakery spy?”
“Ha ha. It stands for the Culinary Institute of America, and it’s located in Hyde Park, New York. I got an associate degree in baking and pastry arts and my bachelor’s in culinary science.”
“Does it bother them you own a bakery?”
She shook her head. “No. What matters most to them is my happiness. And I was until …” Emelia’s eyes welled with tears, but she didn’t continue.
“Until?”
“Oh, nothing.” She shook her head. “Just a bump along the way,” she replied, changing the subject. “How about you? Where did you grow up?”
Titus didn’t believe it was just a bump. He wondered what happened and hoped Emelia would tell him when she was ready. He did not want to tell his sad tale. However, if they were to have a relationship, Emelia had to know the good and bad about him.
He prayed it wouldn’t turn her off or make her think less of him. He’d come to grips with his shitty childhood years ago. That and the service made him into the man he was today.
“I have two brothers, neither married. My dad disappeared when I was little, and Mom—well, Mom never got over it and drank herself to death.”
“Oh, Titus. I’m so sorry.” She reached over to rub his hand.
“It’s over and done.” He shrugged.
He took a deep breath. “Anyhow, I had to take care of them. Food and money were scarce, and when I was old enough, I joined the service and was able to send money to my family. Best thing ever. I had enough to eat and learned many of the skills that I’m using at the Brotherhood, and now I own a gym.” He took a swallow of scotch. “Life is good.”
Well, he sure sugar-coated his life but gave her the essentials.
She nodded. “Yes, it is.” She lifted her glass. “Here’s to all good things.”
“Hear, hear.”
At that moment, the server stopped and took their orders. “I’ll send the wine steward over if you’d like to have wine with dinner.”
“That’d be great,” said Titus.
The wine steward arrived a few minutes later and suggested some wines to go with both their meals. They decided on a Sonoma Valley pinot noir—a medium full-bodied red with hints of fruits and earth notes, whatever earth notes were.
A plate of raw scallops, vibrant green peppers, orange melon and purple plum was placed in front of Emelia, who licked her lips. It was colorful. But raw scallops, aaah, that was a big no.
His shrimp cocktail contained six jumbo shrimp placed around the glass rim with lettuce and cocktail sauce in the middle. Now that was an appetizer. Usually, the shrimp were half the size.
They dug into their appetizers, stopping only once to share. Titus decided the scallops weren’t bad. They had been marinated in citrus, so they weren’t raw. He pierced a shrimp to give to Emelia. She insisted he cut it in half—she didn’t want to spoil her appetite.
When they finished their appetizers, the server removed their plates and whisked crumbs away. Titus had never been to a restaurant that swept the table. It seemed silly, yet Emelia was impressed, so it was good.
“Vanessa mentioned that a blogger with a huge online following was going to interview you this week. Are you excited about that?”
Emelia’s eyes lit up. “Oh my. Yes. Her blog reaches a few million readers. This could put me on the map.”
“I can’t wait to read it,” he replied. There was a teeny part of him, the selfish part, that didn’t want her business put on the map. Would she end up working so many hours that they wouldn’t have time to be with each other?
Bah, that was silly. He owned a gym and traveled for his security job. Emelia could hire more workers. They would be fine. He turned his attention to the woman sitting across from him. She was a talented baker and deserved every good thing that came her way. Case closed.
He could smell his steak from across the room. As it was placed in front of him, the steak sizzled on the plate. It came with potatoes, mushrooms and a sauce that smelled like dirty socks.
“It’s truffle au jus,” said Emelia, holding back a smile and explaining that truffles grew underground by oak trees and were harvested by dogs or pigs.
Great. Titus grimaced and hoped no animal had taken a bite or pooped on it.
Her duck breast was visually pleasing, with colorful green lentils and orange carrot puree.
After pouring their wine, the wine steward disappeared. Titus enjoyed their conversation. They hit on several subjects: friends, food, his time in the service, the gym and weird bakery customers.
Finally, Emelia sat back and rubbed her stomach. “That was the best meal I’ve ever had. Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. I’m glad you enjoyed it.”
The dishes were whisked away, and again the table was brushed. The waiter placed a dessert menu in front of them.
“Hmmm, everything sounds delicious,” said Titus as he perused the menu. “What would you like?”
Emelia cocked her head, bit her lip, and stared at him. “I thought we were going to discuss dessert. At home.”
Fuck me. Titus put down the dessert menu, caught the server’s eye, and got the check. In less than five minutes, he pulled Emelia’s chair out, placed his hand on her waist, and whispered in her ear, “Dessert at home is my favorite.”