Chapter 7
Alexi
“Hey,” I greet Daisy as I slip into the bridal shop on my lunch break. “I brought you some pizza.”
“Ah, you’re the best! I’m starved.”
I smile, setting the pizza box down on the counter behind the register, and plop down into one of the chairs. We each grab a slice, moaning as the grease and cheese melt in our mouths.
“How are you feeling? You’re looking a lot better,” Daisy comments.
“Yeah, I’m fully recovered now.”
“Good.”
I take another bite, shifting in my seat.
Daisy’s eyebrows rise as she tosses her crust into the box and grabs another slice. “What is it?”
“Hugh asked me out. He’s cooking for me tonight,” I say in a rush.
Daisy is beaming before I even finish the sentence. “Are you excited? Nervous?”
I shove a bite of pizza into my mouth so I can delay answering her. It doesn’t really work because Daisy can read me better than anyone.
“I’m both,” I admit.
She sighs. “Your first date.”
I groan. “You sound like a mom.”
“I’m just so excited for you. Hugh seems like a good guy, and the whole town knows he’s crazy about you after his behavior the last few days.”
My cheeks heat, aware that we’re probably the talk of the town. I don’t love being the center of the gossip mill around here, but I know it will blow over in a few days.
“What are you going to wear? Something casual? Sexy? Lingerie?”
I chuckle at her enthusiasm. “Casual and comfortable.”
She shakes her head. “Boo! You should wear something that will knock his socks off. Who knows? Maybe tonight you’ll get lucky.”
She wiggles her eyebrows, and my entire body heats. I’m about to tell her that’s not even on my radar when the door opens and two customers come in.
“I’m heading back to work,” I say, grabbing the half-empty pizza box. “I’ll talk to you later.”
“Okay, call me if you want to talk about outfits or anything before your date!”
“I will,” I promise.
I leave, walking down the sidewalk toward the old building where the Wolf Valley Gazette is based.
I let myself in, my spirits sinking as I look around.
More and more of the desks seem to be empty every day.
People have moved, retired, or been let go, and the rest of us are waiting for our turn.
The tension is palpable in the mood and atmosphere, as if we’re all just waiting for the hammer to fall.
My editor, Ron, stops by my desk. “Is your article almost finished?”
He looks weary and older than his years. The newspaper’s slow death has sucked the energy out of him like the rest of us.
“Almost. I’ll have it to you in an hour or two.”
He nods and taps his papers on my desk before he shuffles off.
I sigh as I sink down into my old chair.
The wheels are wobbly and uneven, and I grunt as my hips tilt to the left.
Shifting, I straighten up and get to work, forcing myself to focus until my article about the upcoming summer festival is complete.
After emailing it to Ron, I stand and gather my things.
Everyone else is out, so I don’t bother saying goodbye to anyone as I slip out the front door and make my way home.
I still have a few hours before Hugh arrives to pick me up, so I do a load of laundry and work on some freelance projects. By the time I’m done, I only have half an hour to get ready.
“Shit!” I hiss, jumping to my feet and hurrying into my bedroom.
I flip through my clothes, debating what to wear.
We’re not going anywhere fancy, just his place, but it’s my first date, so I feel like I should make an effort.
In the end, I decide on black jeans and a navy-blue top that matches my eyes.
I’m brushing my hair out when my phone buzzes, and my heart races when I see Hugh’s name on the screen.
Hugh: Just getting off work now, baby. I’ll be at your place in five.
Alexi: Okay, see you soon.
I take a deep breath, smoothing my hands down my shirt before slipping on my shoes. A knock sounds at the door as I grab my purse and keys, and a million butterflies take flight in my stomach as I go to answer it.
Hugh grins at me as I open the door, and I’m surprised to see that he’s dressed up.
“You look beautiful, Alexi,” he says, leaning down to press a kiss to my cheek. “These are for you.”
I smile as he hands me a bouquet of roses. “Thank you. No one has ever given me flowers before.”
“I’m happy to be the first.”
“Let me just put these in some water.”
I turn and head into the kitchen with Hugh hot on my heels. It takes me a minute to find a pitcher large enough to hold the flowers and fill it with water. I arrange the roses, breathing in their sweet scent.
“Are you hungry?” he asks, taking my hand and leading me out to his car.
“Yeah. What are you going to cook for me?”
“About that,” he says, opening my door for me. “Your first date should be special. Our first date should be special. Something more than dinner at home.”
“Just admit that you can’t cook,” I deadpan.
“Oh, I can cook,” he promises me cockily.
“Uh-huh.”
“I can. I’ll cook for you tomorrow. On our second date,” he says as I slide into the passenger seat.
“Getting ahead of yourself there,” I warn him.
I watch as he closes my door and walks around to the driver’s side. It’s not until we’re on the road that I turn to him.
“Where are we going?”
He reaches over, taking my hand in his. “Palmer’s Steakhouse.”
“Ah, the best restaurant in town.”
“Only the best for you, baby.”
I shake my head, grinning. I don’t want to pretend to be annoyed or not interested in Hugh anymore. He’s been nothing but honest and kind to me, and he deserves the same from me. I can’t contain all of my sarcasm, but I can stop fighting this thing between us.
“Did you go to Palmer’s a lot growing up here?” he asks as we pull into the parking lot.
“Sometimes. Usually for birthdays or big events. My parents always said it was a special place.”
He gives me an understanding look. “Will you be okay?”
I nod. “I miss my parents, but if I tried to avoid every place we ever went together, I’d never leave the house.”
His tension eases. “What’s your favorite restaurant in town?”
“I’m pretty easy. I like Salsa Supreme and Toasty Buns. Masterbeater’s has the best pastries and baked goods. Nosh’s Diner is good for everything. I think Palmer’s might be my favorite, though. Who doesn’t love a good steak?”
We climb out of his car, and he takes my hand, interlocking our fingers as we walk up to the front door of the steakhouse.
I let Hugh handle checking us in with the hostess, smiling as I look around the place. I have so many good memories at this restaurant. I remember coming for one of my parents’ anniversaries, remember the way they had looked at each other. They were so in love.
“Right this way,” the hostess says.
Hugh squeezes my hand as we’re led over to a table in the back. He pulls out my chair for me, and I slip in, taking my menu from the hostess.
“Your server will be right with you,” she says before turning and heading back up front.
“What about you? What’s your favorite kind of food?” I ask him.
“I love Greek. Back in Connecticut, we had this great restaurant. It was a hole in the wall, but it had the best gyros. They made their own pita and baklava. I used to go there to study and get away from my parents when I got too stressed out.”
“They stressed you out?”
He shrugs. “What they wanted for me and my life wasn’t what I wanted for myself.
We butted heads more and more as I got ready for college.
Things got really bad after medical school.
They expected me to marry someone with the right pedigree and be perfect so that they could brag about me to all their friends. ”
“And instead, you moved here.”
“Yeah. They told me they didn’t want to see me until this ‘little tantrum’ was over and I had come to my senses.”
“Geez,” I whisper.
“So that’s Mom and Dad,” he says lightly, trying to ease the tension.
“Think you’ll ever go back?”
He stares right at me. “No. Not unless you wanted to.”
I swallow hard at the implication. Luckily, I’m saved from having to answer by the arrival of our server.
We place our orders, each getting the filet mignon.
Hugh leans across the table once the server has gone and takes my hand in his. “How was work today?”
“Sad,” I admit. “You can feel the energy and excitement fading every single day.”
“What made you want to be a journalist?”
I grin. “My mom used to say it was because I was so nosy. I always had to know what was going on, always had to get the scoop. I think that’s part of it. I want to investigate things, want to tell people’s stories, share things. The job was perfect for me… until print media started dying.”
“You could try to write something else. A book, maybe, or a blog? I bet people would read it. I would.”
“Maybe. I’ve toyed with those ideas a lot in the last six months. Nothing feels right, though.”
“You have time,” he assures me.
The conversation turns to college and stories from our childhoods.
Everything about us seems to be different.
He went to an Ivy League college, I went to a state school.
He grew up vacationing in exotic places, and I never left Wolf Valley.
I got to be a carefree kid, but Hugh seems to have had a lot of pressure put on him to be the best at everything.
The two of us shouldn’t work, but somehow, sitting across from him, being with him, feels like the most natural thing in the world.
We eat and talk about town, about his day at work, and the upcoming festival.
“We should go,” he says as he pays the bill and takes my hand.
“To the festival?”
“Yeah. Or do you go every year with Daisy or something?”
“Usually. Her boyfriend is supposed to be back in town soon, so maybe we can all go together.”
“Sure. What does her boyfriend do?”
“He’s a Navy SEAL. He comes back to Wolf Valley whenever he can to visit her.”
“That has to be hard,” he comments as we reach his car.
“They make it work. She flies to see him, and he takes his vacations here with her.”
“I can barely go a few hours without seeing you. I don’t know how her boyfriend can stand weeks or months without seeing Daisy.”
“A few hours, huh?” I ask, wrapping my arms around his neck.
“It’s bad, Alexi. Why do you think I text you so much? I’m always thinking about you. You’re all I can focus on,” he says softly.
“I’ve been having a hard time focusing on things that aren’t you too,” I admit quietly.
He groans. “Thank fuck for that, baby.”
“What?”
He smiles. “I’m just glad to know I’m not alone in this.”
I stare up at him, my tongue darting out to moisten my suddenly dry lips.
He groans louder.
Then his mouth is on mine.
His lips are soft but firm as they mold to mine. His fingers tangle in my hair, tugging until I gasp, giving him the opening he was after.
Hugh’s tongue slips into my mouth, and I moan as I kiss him back, my fingers twisting in his shirt, pulling him closer.
He tastes like the chocolate cake we split for dessert.
I whimper as his hands glide down my sides, the tips of his fingers stroking over the outsides of my breasts.
He squeezes my hips, and I grind against him, his stiff cock rubbing back and forth against my stomach.
“Fuck, baby. You have no idea what you do to me,” he mutters.
Then his lips are back on mine, our tongues tangling. Turning us, he backs me up until I’m pressed between him and his car. I can feel every hard line of his body as I buck against him.
I need… I need…
Hugh steps back, breathing hard. I suck air into my starved lungs, staring at him as I press my fingers to my swollen lips.
“Dinner. Tomorrow. My place,” he pants.
Words are impossible, so I simply nod.
He leans in, placing a soft kiss on my lips. “Come on, baby. Let’s get you home.”
I feel like I’m floating as he drives me back to my place. For the first time in my life, I think about what it would be like to sleep with someone. I want to give myself to Hugh in that way. I want him to be my first, my only.
I smirk to myself as I think about what Daisy will say to that when I tell her tomorrow.