3. THREE
THREE
GARRETT
I was walking up to the restaurant behind a woman who, if I was being honest, looked amazing in the skintight, red dress she’d paired with a black, leather jacket. She wore heels and black, sheer tights that made her legs go on for miles despite being a tiny thing.
I was in the middle of scolding myself for checking out another woman when I was four seconds from being on a date with a different one when I heard the woman in front of me talking on the phone.
“Bye, Kins!”
Kins like Kinsley? Kinsley was a popular name, I knew that, but what were the odds of it being a different Kinsley? And that voice? I knew that voice. I replayed it in my head for months every time I took myself in my hand after the night of the wedding. Maybe that made me a creep, but she was the hottest hookup I’d had in a long time. She was the only hookup, actually. One-night stands weren’t really my thing.
And now that I took a closer look, the long, black hair and the soft, ivory skin decorated with tattoos aligned themselves with my memories.
I remembered joking with her at the bar and flirting ridiculously while I did so. I’d gone to get another drink when I saw her. It was only her back and the profile of her face when she turned and rested her chin on her shoulder, seemingly deep in thought, but I thought even then that she was stunning. I hadn’t even intended on taking her back to my hotel room, but when her low, sultry voice hit me, I would’ve done anything she’d asked.
The way back to the hotel room had blurred itself in my memories, but the events in the room? Crystal clear. The way my fingers sank into the inky depths of her hair, and how I’d kissed nearly every inch of that silky skin. I’d had her against the wall, on the desk, in the bed. Everywhere. It hadn’t been enough then, but she’d left before I could ask for her number. And her name.
But here she was, standing in front of the restaurant.
It was her.
Holy shit.
Thank you, Kinsley.
She was just about to reach for the door when I shot my hand out and grabbed the handle.
I said the first thing that came to mind. “Lovely weather we’re having.”
I watched as her body tensed and froze, almost as if she could will me away if she didn’t move. Then she slowly spun to face me, and I watched as her gaze tracked up my body until they collided with mine. Electricity coursed through me, and I wasn’t sure if she could feel it too, or if it was just a one-way effect.
The look on her face said she recognized me, and for some reason, that made me extremely satisfied.
Her red lips popped open in an “O” as she presumably tried and failed to come up with something to say.
Stop staring at her lips.
“I figured since we’re outside this time, the better line would be about the weather.” I pulled the door open wider and motioned for her to walk through it, but she didn’t move.
“You’re Garrett?” Her voice was incredulous.
“Since I was born.” I flashed her a smile. “And you must be Cory. I’ll admit I’m a bit relieved to know that Kinsley and Hayes didn’t set me up with a guy.”
I meant it as a joke to lighten the tension still holding her rigid, but all the humor present two years ago seemed to be missing. I let go of the door, sensing we weren’t going inside anytime soon, and stepped off to the side so others could come and go.
“It’s short for Cordelia.” She took a deep breath and then held her hands out by her shoulders as if to slow the information down, her features warping into an expression of frustrated confusion. “Why did Kinsley send you on a date with me? Did you tell her about the wedding night?”
It was my turn to be confused. “What? No. Hayes just told me that Kinsley thought one of her friends would be perfect for me, so I showed up!”
“Why would you agree to a blind date?”
I shrugged. “Why did you?”
Cory shot me a glare I didn’t think I quite deserved but answered her question. “I like food and conversation. Plus, as Hayes so kindly pointed out to me, I’m thirty and not getting any younger.”
She relaxed marginally, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear when the wind blew it into her face. “You really didn’t know it was me when you agreed to the date?”
I shook my head. “No.” I dared to take a step closer to her before I added, “But if I did, I still would’ve said yes.”
I watched the mental war going on in her head. This whole interaction was odd. We’d had a good time at Kinsley and Hayes’s wedding. At least, in my mind, we had. But no, it wasn’t just in my head. She’d laughed, she’d flirted, she’d been the one to come onto me, and I knew for a fact she’d felt the chemistry between us, so why was she acting like I was the last person she wanted to see?
“Remind me again how you know Kinsley and Hayes?” She was wavering, and that was something I could work with.
“I’m a police officer for the city with Hayes. We met in the academy, actually.”
Something about my answer seemed to ease some of the tension out of her posture, so I decided to press my luck.
“So, what do you say?” I asked, extending my hand for hers with a smile. “Would you like to have dinner with me?”
It took a moment, almost as if she was deciding on whether or not to make a run for it, but then she smirked. “Are you flirting with me? ”
“I knew I should’ve gone with my other pick-up line.” I reopened the door for her and followed her inside the restaurant.
***
The waitress seated us at a table at the very back of the building and hurried away with the promise of bringing waters to the table while we looked over the menu. Weekends at Toni’s were always busy, and tonight was no exception.
I pulled out Cory’s chair, watching as a distinct, “Is this guy for real?” look passed over her expression, and slid her in once she sat down.
“Can I take your jacket?”
She laughed, but it was still restrained. “And where are you going to put it?”
“On the back of your chair?”
She rolled her eyes and shrugged off her jacket, dropping it where I suggested.
Most guys probably would’ve been put off by her aloofness, maybe found her rude, but I just found it intriguing. She was guarded for sure, but I knew there was another side to the one she was showcasing tonight, and I was determined to bring it out.
The waitress returned with water and took our drink orders before hurrying away again, leaving us to look over the menu.
“So, why does everyone call you Cory and not Cordelia?”
She took a sip of her tequila soda, a drink I was realizing was probably her go-to. “Because I hate Cordelia. It’s pretentious and sounds like one of the ugly stepsisters in Cinderella.”
“Drizella and Anastasia.”
“I’m sorry?” The expressions on this woman.
“The ugly stepsisters. Those are their names.”
A genuine laugh. “Why do you know that?”
“I’ve got two sisters. I was outnumbered every movie night.” I took a sip of my own drink and relaxed back into the chair. I didn’t need to look at the menu because the guys at the station ordered takeout from here often enough, but I watched as Cory looked hers over.
“I like Cordelia, by the way.”
Her eyes snapped up to mine. “Well, I don’t, so unlike it.”
It didn’t take a genius to recognize a hard limit, and this was one of hers, so I simply nodded and let my gaze slide to the obligatory menu.
The waitress returned for our food orders moments later, and then left just as quickly as she came. We sat in silence for a couple of minutes, Cory playing with a straw wrapper, and me watching. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but I wanted to get her talking. I found that, despite the icy persona she was wearing, I desperately wanted to know her.
“So, what do you do for work?” I figured that would be safe conversation territory; most people could talk about what they did for a living. Turned out I was right.
She discarded the wrapper on the table, her eyes lighting up as she went from guarded to excited. “I’m actually opening my own tattoo shop. The grand opening is about a month-and-a-half away, but it’s coming along nicely.”
She’d had a handful of tattoos two years ago, but from the skin she had on display, I could tell she had added quite a bit more to her body since then. Colorful pieces covered her slender arms, her chest, and her legs. Her neck had some sort of mandala pattern, and even her hands had become a canvas.
I wasn’t necessarily for or against tattoos. I didn’t have any, but it wasn’t because I was scared of the commitment or the pain. It was that I had yet to come across something I wanted to have permanently on my body.
“Well then, congratulations are in order! That’s huge.” I raised my glass, and she met me halfway with hers, a blush creeping up her neck and stealing across her cheeks.
“Thank you. I’m really excited.” She began toying with the straw wrapper again—a nervous habit, which was weird to see coming from an otherwise extremely confident woman. “I’ve been working toward this for a long time now.”
There was something timid about the way she said it, like it was a confession she shouldn’t make. Like her happiness and excitement over her passions were something she should feel guilty about. It had me wondering why, and more importantly, who caused it.
“As you should be! Tell me about it.”
She smiled a small smile and shrugged. “There’s not much to say really.”
I bent my head to catch her eye. “Oh, come on. That can’t be true. I can’t imagine you’d bust your ass for nothing . ”
She rolled her eyes and looked over her shoulder a moment, as if debating whether she wanted to tell me or not. The water in our glasses rippled slightly as she bounced her knee beneath the table. When she looked back at me, she sighed and narrowed her eyes slightly.
“Have you ever tried to see how far you could swim underwater? How long you could hold your breath?”
A smile broke out across my face. “Of course. I was a kid once.”
“Tattooing feels a little bit like that first breath of air upon surfacing. The air that erases the burn of everyday life. It’s revitalizing. I just wish—” She cut herself off abruptly, a pained look creeping over her features.
“What?”
“Nothing. I shouldn’t have said that. It doesn’t matter.”
I looked her in the eyes, and while I was aware I could be reading too much into things, I didn’t think so. I was good at reading people. “Your dreams are just as beautiful as anyone else’s. Just because they don’t align with the expectations set for you by someone else doesn’t mean they aren’t worth pursuing.”
Cory just stared at me. She blinked, and then she was moving. She grabbed her jacket from her chair and started thrusting her arms into the sleeves.
I reached for her hand. “Whoa, wait a second. What did I say?”
She looked at our hands on the table before pulling hers back. “Listen, you’re really nice, probably actually too nice, and that’s exactly why I can’t do this.” She grabbed her purse and stood. “I never should’ve agreed to this. I’m really sorry.”
That was the last thing she said before she fled from the table and out of the restaurant like she was being chased by a wild animal.
What the hell just happened?
I was going over the last thing I’d said when the waitress came out with our meals. She set them on the table, probably assuming Cory was in the restroom, and asked, “Is there anything else I can get you?”
“Yeah, could I actually get these to go? And I’m all set for the check.” I smiled politely, trying and failing to keep the hurt and confusion I felt off my face.
The girl took in the empty chair and lack of jacket, presumably connected the dots, and threw me a pitying look. “Of course! I’ll be right back with those.”
And she was. For the first time that evening, she was back in under five minutes. I paid, grabbed our food and my jacket, and left the restaurant.
Zipping my jacket up, I walked to my car. It was late May, and the days were finally starting to warm, but the nights clung to winter like they weren’t quite ready to say goodbye. Spring was like that in New England.
The whole drive home, I replayed the date in my head. I couldn’t think of a single thing I’d done or said to warrant her walking out, but clearly something had upset her.
I drummed my thumbs against the steering wheel and glanced over at the passenger seat where our food sat, getting colder by the minute.
Fuck it.
At a red light, I pulled out my phone and texted Hayes.
Me: Hey, what's Cory's address?
I’d tried to get her out of my head, tried to forget our night together, to forget her like I knew she wanted me to, but I was barely strong enough to do it the first time. The amount of times I almost caved and asked Kinsley who her friend with the tattoos was so I could get her number was embarrassing. I couldn’t let her walk away from me again.