Chapter 21 Mile Twenty-One #2
“You want me to spend time with your brother?” My smile gets just a little bigger.
“For research.” He picks up his soda. “He was in the same position. He wanted to offer more resources to some of the patients he’s worked with as a PT, so Marshall and he cooked up an adaptive basketball league that then led to bowling nights, ski trips, and a bunch of other activities.
Instead of waiting, he created what he wanted. ”
My heart swells. It’s not just about picking Bryce’s brain to help me figure out how I can expand my role in my current position, but Garrett’s openness to invite me further into his life.
His family is important to him. The fact that he wants us to travel to Buffalo reinforces how important I am to him.
While I should run for the hills…a man is proposing a trip to visit his brother on our first date…
Garrett and I aren’t the typical couple.
The last five years have merely served as a preamble to tonight.
“Thank you for always supporting me.” Leaning in, I lift our joined hands and place an appreciative kiss on his knuckles.
“Again, don’t thank me for doing what should be expected.”
“Just because it’s expected, doesn’t mean I can’t be appreciative for it,” I say, a sweet defiance rings in my tone.
It’s something my dad always says. Even if we expect someone to do something, we should still appreciate it because not everyone meets our expectations, and when someone does, we should cherish that. The coziness of Garrett’s thoughtfulness leaves me feeling cherished. I want him to feel the same.
“You know the campus coffee shop is closed, right?” I tease as we park at the university.
While I knew all the details about dinner, the only thing Garrett shared about the post-dinner activity was that it would be someplace I’m very familiar with. My gears spun with so many scenarios. None of which landed on me coming back to campus on a Friday night.
Hands clasped, we walk through the quad.
It’s not proper human guide, but I use my cane and hold his hand anyway.
I deserve to hold hands with my handsome date as we stroll in the cool night air, just like everyone else.
The murmured conversations of students moseying between buildings hums around us.
He leads me to the egg-shaped theater building at the campus center, where a main stage and several smaller theaters are. I’ve attended a few performances here over the years—mostly to listen to some of the chamber music ensembles the university is known for.
“What are we seeing?” I press into him as we stand in line to get into the theater.
“The string quartet is doing a special Bridgerton-themed performance with music from the show.”
“What?” Excitement vibrates through me. “How? I thought the tickets were sold out?”
When I’d seen the listing on the university’s events calendar, I squealed obnoxiously at my desk. By the time the tickets were available for staff, they were sold out. Students and faculty always get first dibs on tickets.
“I have some connections.” Playfulness dances in his timbre.
“Connections? I know you guest lecture at the medical school, but am I dating a Pemberley big wig?” I shimmy my hips.
“Not a big wig.” He chuckles. “Just a grateful dean of the medical school who had tickets that he agreed to swap me for.” He places his palm on the small of my back, guiding me down the line.
“What did you swap him for? Kidney? Firstborn?”
“Weirdly, your brother has dibs on my kidney.” He takes out his phone to show the attendant our tickets.
“How?” I guffaw.
“He won it in a poker game two years ago. But he only plans to collect if he needs it,” he says, ushering us into the theater.
“Who has dibs on your firstborn?” I bite the inside of my cheek in immediate regret for that question.
He coughs. “Still up for grabs.”
“Do you want a firstborn?” Bypassing any good sense, I lean into my true nature and just ask.
Kids are something I know I want. Even if we may not be there now—or ever—it’s best to put this on the table. I’m sure I’m breaking all kinds of first-date etiquette here. In fairness, I have sat on this man’s face, so traditional dating rules may not apply here.
“I did.” He places my hand on a railing. “Human guide, or…”
“Human guide.” I take his elbow, letting him lead us up the stairs to our seats. “You did, but you don’t anymore?”
“I don’t know…” His shoulders shrug. “Val and I talked about it, but after she… I just stopped thinking about wanting things beyond just time.”
Worrying my lip, I nod, as if he could see me from behind him.
“I want a firstborn, and maybe a secondborn. Though they don’t have to be borne by me.
Adoption. Foster parenting. However they get here, I’d like to be a mom.
I’m open. It’s early for this type of conversation, but I want to be honest about what I hope for my future. ”
Looks like I’m pushing through all the little barriers I’ve put in place. In three months, I’ve gone from being unable to tell Miles I wanted to date to telling Garrett I want kids on our first date. This is not the Jensen I’ve always been, and it’s somehow the right Jensen.
As much as I am falling for this man, I’m falling for myself even more. My needs and wants are important, and I won’t stuff them inside out of fear they will scare someone away—not anymore.
He stops at the top of the stairs and twists to face me. “I’m open.”
“Open to thinking about it or open to…”
“Having them with the right person,” he murmurs.
“Okay.” With a gentle squeeze of his bicep, my mouth lifts into a small smile.
It’s too early to know if we are the right people for each other. We still have so many more chapters to write in the unfolding story of us, but the flutter in my chest has hope.
“Though, if I don’t get a chance to be a mom, I’m okay with being the best damn aunt to Anker’s future children. Especially now that I know he’s got a kidney on reserve,” I tease.
“I should let you know that in that same poker game, Anker forfeited naming rights of his first child to me.”
“Oh god.” I laugh. “So, what did the dean get out of you?”
“For the dean, I just had to agree to sit on their medical school interview panel.”
“Hope this is worth several weeks of interviewing Type A overachievers.” I crinkle my nose, remembering how much Garrett complained about doing resident interviews each spring.
“This—likely not. Here’s our seats.” He places my hand on the seat. “You—always.”
“Smooth!” I place my other hand on my forehead and mock-swoon, causing him to laugh.
We’re at the top of the rows of seats encircling the small stage.
It’s not a large theater—hence the reason for tickets selling out quickly—but the acoustics are fantastic.
They tend to do instrumental concerts or Shakespearean shows done in the traditional style.
The intimate setting makes it my favorite theater on campus.
Each show somehow feels like a private spectacle just for you.
My only complaint about this theater is how cold it is. It’s making me rethink my sexy little black dress and pull tighter on my jacket.
“Cold?” he asks, running the back of his palm over my bare knees.
“A little…” I lean into him. “Just means you get to snuggle me close during the show.”
“That was always the plan, but also…” He shifts forward, slides his jacket off, and drapes it over my bare legs.
“Won’t you be cold?” I wave at my lap.
“I think I’ll survive the sixty-five-degree, climate-controlled room.”
I roll my eyes. “Ha.”
My mock laugh is demolished by the flutter in my chest accompanying the way he secures the jacket around me as if he’s tucking me in at night. Even if he teases me about what a wimp I am anytime the temperature drops below seventy, it’s clear that my comfort is his priority.
“Thank you.” I snuggle into his side, his muscular arm folding around me and keeping me close.
Chamber music may not be Garrett’s thing, but you’d never know it. Contentment wafts from him. His muscles are relaxed as he holds me close. As the quartet flows into more romantic songs, his hand strokes up and down my side, and he periodically kisses the top of my head.
Definitely best date ever! Eyes closed, happiness sighs through me.
The romantic melody twining around me nestles me into both the reality of being with Garrett and little fantasies of future dates.
All the things I want to do with him. Dancing.
Splashing in the waves at the beach. Kissing. So much more kissing.
The first notes of “Give me Everything” play, causing heat to zing up my spine with the memory of the steamy carriage scene from the show. Even with the show’s robotic audio description, my cheeks flushed with what happened when I watched that episode. I may have watched it a few times.
As the music waltzes around the room, my breath shallows imagining Garrett and I replacing Penelope and Colin in that carriage.
Instead of a carriage bumping along the streets of Mayfair, it’s Garrett’s SUV parked in the campus lot.
His capable hands skating up my bare thighs.
His mouth sucking at the base of my throat.
His fingers skimming along the lacy trim of my panties, before sliding beneath the satin fabric.
“Soon,” he murmurs in my ear, his husky voice slinks through me, igniting my nerve-endings into tiny bonfires.
“What?” My whisper is breathless.
“You think I don’t know what you’re thinking of with this rosy complexion?” He trails his finger over my cheek, past my chin, and down my neck. “You don’t think I watched that carriage scene after you mentioned it?”
Pressing his smirking mouth against my cheek in a chaste kiss, he slips his hand beneath the jacket and rests it on my knee. With a featherlight touch, he makes lazy circles against my bare skin. Heat simmers beneath each swipe of his fingers.
“Garrett,” I almost whimper.