17. Rickie
Rickie
Back in the truck, I punch the button to turn on Dylan's radio. Music fills the cab, and Daphne turns her face away from me to look out the window.
"Are you okay?" I ask. “Do you not like that guy? Gil?”
“I’m fine,” she bites out. “Gil is probably a terrific human being. It’s just new, okay? My dad died seven years ago, but my mother never said a word about dating before this summer. It's just a strange idea for me."
“Must be something in the water. Every member of your family is out there dating. Including Grandpa.”
She groans.
“You’re the only Shipley who insists she isn’t dating,” I say, driving the point home. “Mom is out there having a great time. And you say you’re giving up men?”
She turns her chin to give me a critical glare, and I give her a sleazy wink. She tries to hold on to her expression. But I see her lips twitch with humor. "Maybe I didn’t actually give up men. Maybe that's just an excuse I thought up to let you down easy."
“Nah,” I insist. “Impossible.”
"Oh, really?" I can see the eye roll even without looking. “That sure of yourself?”
“Daphne, seriously. Who could resist a guy with this face, this body, and a tendency to proposition hot young women and then leave 'em by the side of the road?"
“And still I’ve met worse,” she mumbles. “Where is all this traffic coming from?”
It’s true—Montpelier is jumping tonight. “The whole world is dating, see?”
She growls.
After five minutes of stop-and-go traffic, I finally get the truck back on the highway.
Then we’re cruising south, as the radio plays on.
“I hate to keep bringing up my gross inadequacies,” I say into the companionable silence.
“But could I ask you a couple questions about our early car rides together? "
“Sure."
“When I originally invited you to that party, how did I describe it?"
“Jeez. It was a long time ago.”
“I know. Just do your best.”
She blows out a breath. “It was going to be hosted at a boathouse of some kind.”
Huh. “Like a yacht club?"
“Well…” She hesitates. “I got the impression that it was private property. But that could have just been my take on it. I don't have any friends with boats. I don't know the lingo."
"Okay. Did I happen to mention how far a drive it was from Harkness?”
"Nope. Sorry. I got the feeling you didn’t have too many details yet. But it was some kind of annual tradition. You'd heard stories. You wanted to see what the hype was all about."
“That sounds like me.” This is a dead end, though. How could Daphne know anything about a party that I failed to bring her to? And I don’t want to pester her all night. "Just one more question," I insist as I put on the signal to get off the highway.
“Wait, where are you going?" she asks.
I take the highway exit and brake slowly toward the street. “I want ice cream. Duh. I didn't think our nondate should end until we got some ice cream. Is that okay?”
“Sure.”
“Your enthusiasm overwhelms me.”
She smiles. And I’m such a sucker for that smile.
There are a surprising number of people here at the Dreamy Creemee, too, so I ease the truck into the lot, where a gaggle of children are poking each other in and around the line.
I cut the engine at the far corner of the gravel parking area.
Then I turn to Daphne again. "My final question is an easy one. "
"Okay?" She unclips her seatbelt and then waits for me to ask it.
"Did I kiss you?"
“What? When?" Her eyes dip.
"In Connecticut. After our car ride.”
“No, you didn’t.” She shakes her head.
“Oh good.”
Her brown eyes leap to mine. “Why is that good? ” Then she seems to realize what she’s just admitted—that she craves my kisses. “Never mind.” She reaches for the door.
“No, this is crucial.” I catch her hand before she leaves the truck. “You know how I recognized you, even though I didn’t know why?”
She nods, her face impassive. But I can see her pulse fluttering at her throat.
“I recognized you. But it wasn’t just like remembering a word I’d forgotten.
When I saw your face, I knew I’d met you.
And I also knew I’d liked you. I wasn’t ambivalent.
I thought— there she is . And…” I thread our fingers together.
“It might kill me if I’d forgotten even one of the kisses that I’d ever shared with you. ”
“ Rickie ,” she breathes.
“Yeah?” I move a little closer.
She looks away. “I’m trying to give up men.”
“Yeah? How’s that working out?” I ask. Then I reach up and brush my thumb lightly across her cheek.
And when her eyes turn to me again, they’re blazing. So I lean in to kiss her, and not gently this time. I’ve been craving the press of her mouth against mine. Pulling her close to me, I feel all lit up inside.
Daphne shivers into our kiss, and her smooth hands land in my hair. Her mouth softens beneath mine. And then her body softens, too. All at once. Like an offering.
Holy fuck . I kiss her deeply, my tongue stroking her top lip until she opens for me.
And I swear to Christ I hear an angel choir as we slide into each other’s arms. I don’t deserve a second chance with her.
But this is it. She and I are happening.
I just want to lose myself right here on the front seat of Dylan’s truck.
But I can’t. I make a desperate, unhappy groan as I wrench myself away from the hottest kiss of my life.
Daphne blinks up at me, cheeks flushed, pupils blown. I stunned us both. And it takes all my willpower not to dive right back in.
My phone is ringing. And more importantly, we’re sitting in a busy parking lot at the ice cream place. Whatever we’ve started will have to wait.
Daphne gets out of the truck and slams the door. Either she really wants ice cream, or she wants a moment to compose herself. My money is on the latter. Daphne isn’t comfortable losing her cool. She prefers to have her emotions well under control.
I get it. I’m not the same, but I do understand.
Needing a few deep breaths myself, I grab my phone and my wallet and slowly extract myself from the vehicle. She’s staring up at the signboard with unseeing eyes.
My phone chirps again.
“Who’s calling you?” she asks.
I slip a hand into hers, and her fingers thread between mine, as if we’ve held hands a million times before. “I’m not sure. It’s…” I pull out the phone with my free hand. “Your brother.” I swipe to answer. “Hello?”
“Rickie! Come to the Goat!” he says. I can hear a crowd of people in the background.
“Where?” I ask.
“The Mountain Goat! It’s a bar. Is Daphne with you? She knows where it is.”
“We’re in line for ice cream. I thought you guys went to the movies?” The line moves forward, and I follow the gentle tug of Daphne’s hand.
“That was the plan,” Dylan says. “But then you didn’t bring the truck home in time, so I got Griffin to drop us here for dinner. I told him you’d pick us up later.”
Daphne snorts, so I know she’s hearing the whole conversation.
“You could have taken my car,” I point out.
“Nah, I need my truck at the movies,” he says. “It’s more comfortable, if you know what I mean. So get over here. We’ve got a table.”
“Okay, man. After we get ice cream, we’ll come to the Mountain Goat and pick you up.” So I guess my nondate is going to be cut short, even though I’m still buzzing from Daphne’s kiss.
“Come in when you get here,” Dylan says. “It’s two-for-one beers and we’ll play some darts.”
I glance at Daphne, who shrugs. She’s got her armor back on, even if she’s still holding my hand.
“Sure, man,” I say. “We’ll see you soon.”
Daphne removes her hand from mine, and the line advances again.