Chapter 12 Bronson
brONSON
Lincoln and I were going on a date. A real date.
And sure, we’d spent time together multiple times, and yes, we did things that were normally reserved for after a date.
But this was different. It felt special.
I’d been on plenty of dates in my life before, but for some reason, just thinking about him coming to pick me up had me giddy… butterflies in my stomach and all.
We were going to a restaurant I liked, but it wasn’t anything fancy. It wasn’t even a place that took reservations. And yet, I felt like I was a prince being picked up for a royal ball.
I checked my outfit for the third, or more like the thirtieth, time.
My goal was to open the door and have Lincoln look at me like there was nothing else in this world he could ever desire more than me.
I wasn’t sure if I quite got there, but I had to admit that I looked great.
My outfit was very casual, jeans that accented my best assets and a shirt that was a shade of blue he’d complimented me on wearing before.
One nice thing about picking out the restaurant was that I didn’t need to worry about what type of clothing to wear, only what would make me look sexiest.
It was hard to believe a text message that had me freaking out and wanting to call the authorities had turned into me finding someone who had me counting the minutes to a night out. There were so many ways that missent text could’ve gone wrong.
A knock at my door had me running to it.
I didn’t even bother pretending to be nonchalant about it.
I was excited Lincoln was here and wanted him to see just how thrilled I was by his presence.
He was great about expressing his feelings, and me?
Not so much. But I was planning to work on that. He deserved it.
“Hi.” I barely got the word out and he had me wrapped in a bear hug… or was it a panther hug?
“You look great.” He kissed the spot just below my ear, the one that made me squirm with need. The man had magical lips.
“You didn’t stop long enough to look at me.” I rubbed my cheek against his.
“You always look great.” He pressed a kiss to the side of my neck and then stepped back enough to show me he held a bouquet of flowers. “Is this too much?”
“Not too much. Just enough.” It was just a random bouquet from a grocery store, but I couldn’t help but smile. No man had ever bought me flowers before. I didn’t think they still did that. And maybe they didn’t, but Lincoln did, and he was the only man that mattered.
“I heard that’s what humans do when they court.” He winked.
“Court?” I rolled my eyes and walked in to grab a pitcher to put my flowers in. I didn’t have a vase, but an iced tea pitcher would do.
“Not court?”
“Not in this century.” Or maybe anywhere but in old books.
“Woo? Is it woo?”
“Sure. Woo works for me.” I cut the tips of the flower stems at an angle, sprinkled in the powder that came with them, and soon the bouquet was like a ball of sunshine on my kitchen counter. “Thank you. I love them.”
“Ready for dinner?”
“Yeah.” I’d have been just as happy staying there, getting some takeaway, and snuggling on the couch. But now that I knew this was a wooing event, I was even more giddy than I was earlier.
The restaurant wasn’t very far. It was a mom-and-pop Italian place that was more American-Italian than actual Italian. During the day, it had a lot of families, but at night, it was a pretty common date place. The lighting was low, the food was good, and it had a very homelike quality to it.
The tablecloths were mismatched, and the owner acted like everybody’s grandma.
I loved it there, as un-fancy as it was.
We walked in hand-in-hand and got a seat without a wait, which surprised me.
We weren’t as private as I’d have liked, but we’d also gotten there as the night was getting busy, so it was to be expected.
“What’s good here?” Lincoln asked.
“Pretty much everything… Probably.”
“What do you mean probably?” He set his menu down on the table in front of him.
“I always get the spaghetti and meatballs. It’s delicious, and no one I know has ever said that anything here was bad or even mid. But yeah, I get the same thing every time.”
“Every time?”
I nodded.
“Well, then I guess I’ll have that too.”
“Or…” I tapped the ravioli dish that had caught my eye since they updated their menu but that I’d never been brave enough to venture outside my comfort zone for. “You could get this and we can share.”
“Perfect.” He reached across the table and took my hand in his. “We’ll do that.”
I ate far too much bread as we chatted, waiting for our meals to come. It was crusty and warm and the butter was made in-house. More than once I’d filled up on the bread and took most of my meal home. Zero regrets.
I was about to grab another slice when the worst possible thing that could have happened, happened. Fine. Not the worst worst. The place didn’t explode. Aliens didn’t come down and suck us up into their spaceship. But as far as things you don’t want to happen on your date, this topped it.
My mother walked in and came straight over to me. How did she know I was here? But she did and came directly to my table with a scowl that could terrify even the bravest soul.
Please don’t let her scare away Lincoln.
“I don’t understand why you’re here.” She didn’t so much as glance at Lincoln.
“Me?” I wanted to die.
Mom, I mouthed to Lincoln, and he leaned back, letting me deal with the situation.
“I’m on a date with my boyfriend, Lincoln. You can go, Mom.” He was so much more than a boyfriend, but the term would have to do for the meanwhile. I couldn’t exactly jump in with the mate thing.
“I did not pick this Lincoln.” She didn’t even look at him, just waved a hand in his direction. “I take my time finding you the right man.”
That was laughable.
“Mom, you can leave now. We’re not having this discussion.
You do not take your time for any of the dates you set up for me, you just pick random guys connected to your circles.
But even if you did, it’s not your call on who I do or do not date.
Don’t pretend like you don’t know where I stand on this.
I love you, Mom, but you need to go now.
” I wasn’t playing games tonight, of all nights.
“If you want to call me up and complain to me tomorrow, have at it.” I pointed to the door.
“Like you’ll answer the phone.”
“I’ll answer the phone. Mom, leave.” The only time I ignored her calls was at work or when I was driving. Never simply to dodge her. This wasn’t the time for that discussion. People were starting to notice her little scene.
To my surprise, she left, just like that.
“Sorry about that.” I wanted to hide under the table.
“I’m sorry I didn’t say anything back,” he said. “I wasn’t sure what to say or what would make it worse.”
He’d made the right call. Fueling her wouldn’t have ended well.
“You were great. She would have made a scene.”
“She already did,” he whispered.
“I know, but it could have been worse. Trust me. No wine was thrown, no faces were slapped.”
“You sound like your life is a TV drama.”
“It’s not, but I may have gotten those ideas from there. She just would’ve gotten loud and embarrassing."
We both laughed as our food was served, but it kind of messed up the entire rest of the date. My mind kept wandering back to my mom and what tomorrow was going to bring, and I was sure his did, too. But for now, the two of us ate delicious food. The ravioli was just as good as the spaghetti.
We skipped dessert, our bellies too full, and went home to my place, where we spent the night wrapped in each other’s arms, neither of us bringing up the M-word, Mother.
She was just going to have to figure it out, because nothing she could say or do was going to change the fact that I was going to be with Lincoln.
I wasn’t sure why she cared. I did exactly what she had been asking for all this time.
I found someone. And if that wasn’t good enough for her, she was going to have to get over it, because Lincoln was here to stay.