26. Charlie
Why am I nervous?
Oh, I know why, I’m going on a date.
With Simon.
My boyfriend.
All of that is still baffling to think about.
Is that why I’m nervous? Everything about Simon compared to the men I’ve dated in the past is different.
Different in the best way.
When I sit and think about it, this doesn’t feel real. For so many years I hated this man. The slightest thought of him would make my blood boil. Now my body heats for a different reason when he’s around.
Which is a lot. We see each other every day. He has a permanent spot at the breakfast counter that is essentially his office. We take turns spending evenings at his house or my apartment. We’ve even become an official couple with our first television binge.
And we’ve had sex. A lot of sex.
So much sex.
Not that I’m complaining. Between the fact that we’re in the honeymoon stage of the relationship and I’m firmly into my second trimester, the sex is welcomed with open arms.
Or is it open legs?
But in all those nights and days spent together, we haven’t done one thing—go on a date. Which Simon is bound and determined to rectify today with what he’s calling “Last First Date Palooza.”
On the outside I rolled my eyes.
On the inside I swooned so damn hard.
Simon: Leaving my house now. You ready?
Charlie: You mean for the date where I don’t know where we’re going or what we’re doing?
Simon: The very one.
Charlie: Yes, I’m ready.
Simon: Good. See you soon. This is about to be the best date ever!
I laugh and toss my phone back on my bed as I grab my ballet flats to slip on. The only thing Simon told me was to wear something appropriate for “fancy and for fun.” When I asked him what that meant, he refused to elaborate. So I did the best I could and found a red dress that I felt comfortable in, considering my leggings and pants are starting to become a little snug, and paired it with ballet flats. I could pretend I’m wearing flats because of the baby, but let’s be real here—heels were invented by Lucifer himself and they can burn in hell.
I do one last check in the mirror, and give one more swipe of my lipstick, before grabbing my purse and heading out the door. But as soon as I open it, I see Simon standing in front of me, a dozen red roses in his hands.
“Aw, Bug…I had a whole reveal planned.”
“You know you don’t need to impress me anymore.” I lean in and kiss his cheek, taking the roses from him.
“Not true. I need to continue woo-ing you. Just because you’re my girlfriend and baby mama doesn’t mean the romance stops.”
“I think I might hate baby mama worse than daddy.”
“Well, we can discuss alternate names on our way to date stop number one.”
“Number one? There are more than one?”
A cheeky grin comes across his face.
“Mind out of the gutter, Banks.”
“Sorry. Anyway…” Simon opens the door a little wider so I can step out. “The theme of this date is past, present, and future.”
“Why do I feel like I’m in that Christmas movie with the Muppets?”
He laughs and places his hand on the small of my back as he leads me down the stairs. “Oh, Bug, this is going to be so much better.”
“Simon Banks, we are not spending two thousand dollars on a crib!”
Simon turns to me with a perplexed look. “Why not?”
“Because it’s too much.”
He shakes his head. “There will never be too much when it comes to Baby Bug.”
I don’t even know why I’m trying to argue with him. He’s been like this since we walked into the high-end baby boutique he found in Franklin—also known as the “future” part of our date.
Which I thought was adorable. I mean, what man plans part of a date as picking out baby stuff? Then I saw the price tags, and I wanted to vomit.
“Which one do you like better?” Simon is standing back, examining two nearly identical—in both price and looks—cribs. I’m talking fingers under his chin, eyes narrowed and brows pinched. “The white one is a four-in-one convertible. The gray is only a three-in-one, but it has drawers built in, which are handy.”
“I’m sure we can find perfectly good ones for half the price. Especially since we’ll need two.”
Simon snaps his head to me. “What do you mean two?”
“For your place and mine.”
He starts blinking rapidly, like he’s trying to figure out what I’m saying. “Why do you still have a place?”
“Because that’s where I live?”
“Why?”
“Um…I’m not sure how I’m supposed to answer this question.”
Simon takes my arm and leads me to a corner of the store and his tone lowers. “You aren’t moving in with me?”
“I mean, we haven’t talked about that.” Why am I explaining this? Either Simon had a conversation with me I wasn’t aware of or the man is assuming a lot. “This is our first date, which is completely ass backwards if you think about the order we did things. But that doesn’t change that we haven’t actually talked about it.”
“I’ve mentioned it.”
I quickly scan my brain. “Are you talking about the time you blurted it out five seconds after I told you I was pregnant?”
“Yes.”
“Oh, Simon.” Bless his eager beaver heart. “I know you like to jump first and figure out the landing on the way down, but I don’t work like that.”
He nods and lets out a breath. “You’re right. I get that. It’s just…I figured that once the baby was born, we’d be moved in together. I’d hoped you were on that page too.”
“I am,” I say, rising on my toes to kiss his cheek. “But I don’t like to assume. If things go in that direction?—”
“When they go in that direction.”
“When they go in that direction, we’ll revisit. But for now, can we be a normal couple and take things at a normal pace?”
Simon pouts, but in a playful way. “Fine. On one condition.”
“Deal.”
“You don’t argue with me on the price of the crib.”
Now it’s my turn to groan. “Deal. But we’re going to buy a reasonably priced stroller.”
“Sorry, Bug, no can do,” Simon says, putting his arm around my shoulders and leading us back to the cribs. “I’ve got my eye on a gold-rimmed one with all terrain wheels and front-wheel suspension.”
“Of course you do…”
“So tell me about yourself.”
I stare blankly at Simon with my bite of lasagna an inch from my mouth. “Excuse me?”
He shrugs as he cuts a piece of his steak. “That’s a first-date question. This is the present. In the present, we’re on our first date, so I figured I’d ask you first-date questions.”
Somehow this makes sense. But is ridiculous at the same time.
Much like me and Simon.
“Okay.” I dab the corners of my mouth with my cloth napkin. “Though I don’t know what you don’t know about me.”
“Well let’s figure it out. We’re together now. We’re on a date. This is what you do when you date. At least that’s what Oliver said.”
“You needed Oliver to tell you about dates?”
Simon takes a sip of his whiskey and leans back slightly in his chair. “Contrary to popular belief, I haven’t dated much.”
I find that hard to believe. “What’s your definition of haven’t dated much?”
He leans forward, resting his forearms on the table. I don’t know why, but at this moment I can’t help but marvel at how his arms fill out his black dress shirt. “Dating to me was more…”
“Short term?”
“Kind of.”
“Temporary.”
“Isn’t that the same thing?”
“Hit it and quit it?”
“That’s more accurate.”
I nod and let out a chuckle, because that doesn’t surprise me.
“Why are you laughing? Aren’t you jealous?”
“Are you jealous of my past boyfriends?”
“Yes,” he says firmly. “How many are we talking?”
“Simon...” I reach across the table and take each of his hands. “There was a fifteen-year gap of time when neither of us wanted to think about each other. In fact, once you accidentally came up in conversation with Mellie, and I broke a plate.”
“Did you drop it because you remembered me as the hot guy you let get away?”
“No. I threw it against the wall and got suspended because I swore so loud customers heard me.”
“You still thought of me. I’ll take that as a win.”
Simon adds a wink that only makes me laugh.
“As I was saying, there were a lot of years where neither of us would have ever thought that this would happen. Especially the happenstance of seeing each other, and then the diner, and the baby.”
Simon tenses slightly before relaxing again. “What I’m saying is that we have histories separate from each other. That’s what happens when you’re adults in relationships.”
“You’re right.”
“Of course I am,” I say as I put my attention back toward my lasagna. I don’t know what the secret is in this tomato sauce, but I’m half tempted to ask the chef. “So back to the original question…what don’t you know about me?”
He thinks about it for a second. “What’s your biggest fear?”
“Easy. Failure.”
“In the general sense or anything specific?”
“Both? In general, I don’t want to let down the people in my life. The diner is a big part of that.”
“Understandable.”
“But it’s more than just if the diner does well or not. I left Connor and Lila in Nashville to pursue this. I promised my mom on her death bed that I’d take this leap. Mona trusted me with her space. Mellie left her job. If this doesn’t work, and I fail, I’ll be letting so many people down.”
Now it’s Simon’s turn to take my hand. “It sounds like you’re more scared of failing others than failing yourself.”
Interesting. I never thought of it like that. “I guess I am. And there are so many more to consider. You for one.”
“Me?”
“Yes, you. You’re invested in this.”
This makes Simon go still. “How am I invested?”
“I mean, there’s the fact that you overnighted basically a whole new restaurant to me. Which I’m going to pay you back for. And how supportive you’ve been. I feel like you’re in this with me.”
He lets out a breath like he’s relieved. “Yes, I do feel like I’m in this with you, but you have to know, there is no way I’d ever think you failed. No matter what happens. And you’re never paying me back for those booths or tables. Those were a gift.”
“Of course you’d say that.”
“And I mean every word.”
He brings up my hand and places a kiss below my knuckles.
“Okay enough about me. What about you? Biggest fear?”
“Again, easy. Snakes.”
“Snakes?
“Snakes.”
“Out of all the things in the world, that’s what you want to go with?”
“Absolutely. Those fuckers are terrifying. Oh, and I’m scared of clowns, so none of those ever at our child’s birthday parties.”
“Agree. No clowns…but now I need the serious answer.”
His gaze travels down, and he takes the moment to give my hands another squeeze. “Losing you.”
That takes me by surprise. “Are you serious?”
He looks up at me, his eyes sad. “I know you think I speak and act without thinking. And most of the time that’s true. But there is something I haven’t said…”
Why is he scaring me? “Simon?”
“I love you Bug. I love you so much it hurts. You’re my reason for everything. And I want you to know…even if Baby Bug weren’t on her way…”
“It’s way.”
“Her way…I’d still be in love with you. And if I lost you…if I ever did anything in my stupid ways that would make it where you weren’t in my life…I don’t know how I’d survive. And that’s fucking scary.”
“Hey…” I get up and move to the empty seat next to him, taking his face in my hands to bring him in for a reassuring kiss. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
“Sharing that with me.”
He nods. “I meant every word.”
“I know.”
I bring him in for another kiss—one that is probably not fancy Italian steakhouse restaurant appropriate—and the weight of his words hits me. I also realize in this moment that I love him too. I thought I did, but I also thought it was too soon.
Then again, Simon and I have never been on a normal clock, why start now?
We break the kiss, but I don’t let go of him. “I love you too.”
My heart melts with the smile that adorns his handsome face. “You do?”
I nod. “I do…Daddy…”
If there’s ever the look described as “got a puppy for Christmas” it’s the one on Simon’s face. “Will you say that again, but so I can record it and make it my ringtone?”
“Absolutely not. That was a one and done.”
“Fine,” he mumbles before perking back up. “How about this? I’ll make you a bet.”
“A bet? What are the terms?”
“If I beat you at the past part of the date, which is scheduled to begin in thirty minutes, you record yourself saying Daddy. And if you win, I’ll drop it and even make sure Baby Bug sticks to Dada.”
I reach out my hand. “Deal.”
“Putt-Putt? You’re taking me to Putt-Putt?”
Simon shakes his head. “Technically this is indoor mini golf. Putt-Putt is actually a trademarked term and has very specific course specifications. Anything with a windmill, like this one, is mini golf.”
“How in the hell do you know that?”
“I’m basically a pro…”
Simon pays the attendant, grabs two balls and two putters, and leads me to the first hole.
“Welcome to the past.”
“How is this the past?”
“Because this was going to be our first date.”
I nearly drop the ball he just handed me. “You had it planned out?”
“I did.” He sneaks a kiss on my cheek before guiding me to the first hole. “Since you insisted that WrestleMania was not our first date, I always thought about what we would do if you ever said yes to a real date. And, because I was a cocky guy who wanted to impress you?—”
“Was a cocky guy?”
He smiles and pulls me into him. “Touché.”
“Please tell me you were going to do the whole ‘let me show you how it’s done’ move?”
I think I just made him blush. “It was a much better idea when I was twenty-one.”
“It’s still a good idea.” I lean up and kiss his cheek. “Why don’t you show me?”
A small fire lights in his eyes. “Turn around. Put your ball on the ground and stand with your feet part, the ball in the middle.”
I do as he says. “Like this?”
“Like that.” Simon positions himself behind me and wraps his arms so they are on top of mine. He takes my hands and helps me place them on the putter, which of course puts his cock right into my ass. I can’t help but wiggle against it.
“You’re playing dirty,” he whispers in my ear, giving it a gentle nibble.
“I play to win.”
The groan he lets out vibrates through my body, which only makes me press into him more.
“Bug…”
“Simon…”
“Anyway…” I giggle as he takes a second to collect himself. “Hold your hands like this, then slowly bring it back and push it forward.”
I follow his motion, not hitting the ball yet. “Like this?”
“Just like that.”
Simon steps away and I reline up the shot. The first one is easy, only one hill in the back.
I swing the putter back and push it forward, giving it the perfect speed to ring around the cup once before falling in.
I turn to him with all smiles. “Like that?”
Simon’s mouth is hanging open. He looks like a cartoon character. “How…”
“You’re not the only one who is, what was it…basically a pro.”
He laughs and throws his head back. “I’m going to lose, aren’t I?”
“Damn right you are, Dada. You’re up.”
“You hustled me.”
I laugh as I lean over the console and kiss Simon on the cheek as he drives us back to Rolling Hills. “In my defense, I didn’t hustle you. You assumed.”
“Still…” His pout makes me simultaneously laugh and feel bad. “Now I’m going to have to be Dada. Or worse…Dad. How boring is that?”
“Maybe you can come up with your own name?”
“Maybe…”
“Is there anything I can do to ease the pain?”
I say that as I start to kiss and nibble along his neck, right under his ear. He shivers as my warm breath graces his skin.
“Bug…”
“What?” I say as I undo my seatbelt. “I’m just trying to make you feel better.”
My hand starts rubbing across his growing cock, which is getting harder with every kiss I leave behind.
“I know you are…and it feels too good, and we have twenty minutes before we get home so I’m going to need you to…”
“What?” I ask, undoing his belt and pulling down his zipper.
“Charlie…”
“I think this will make you forget all about it…”
I don’t know what’s coming over me right now, but between this night, my raging hormones, and wanting Simon to not be sad, the only thing I want to do right now is give this man a blow job.
And not just any blow job: road head.
A thing I didn’t realize was on my sexual bucket list.
“Fuck, Charlie…” he pushes back his seat slightly as I reposition myself, careful not to let everyone driving on Route 65 see my ass in the air.
I lick around his thick cock before I take him all, moving up and down as my hand works in tandem.
“Dammit, Bug, you feel too good…”
I don’t reply; I just double down my efforts. I can feel the air hitting the top of my thighs and ass. I know if anyone were to drive by right now they’d be getting a show.
Ask me if I care.
My jaw is starting to ache, but I push through, not wanting to stop for one second. I lick around his tip before slowly taking him all in, my lips hitting his base. It makes him buck into me, and I swear he’s hitting the back of my throat.
And holy shit is that a turn on I was not expecting.
“That’s my girl…you can take it…”
I feel Simon veering to the side of the highway and slowing down before eventually stopping so he can pump into me. I don’t stop. I keep going. Harder. Faster. Needing more than anything right now to have this man finish in my mouth.
And he does. With a guttural scream as he wraps my hair in his fist, the man comes in my mouth to the point where I don’t know if it’s ever going to stop.
And I take it all.
Bucket list item: check.