Chapter 13
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
For the first few seconds of his kiss with Bailey, Reeves praised the Lord that he still knew how to do it.
After that, he quieted his mind and focused on the softness of her lips, the silky quality of her hair, and the way they breathed together.
Having learned to be cautious and go slow through many experiences in his life—including hunting and fishing, his outdoor survival skills training, and dealing with his father—he’d never moved very fast with women before.
In fact, he’d dated his last girlfriend for two months before he’d kissed her.
Everything about Bailey made him feel strong and masculine, and like he was ready to run a marathon.
He couldn’t stop kissing her, and she sure didn’t seem to mind as she continued to match her mouth to his and kiss him again and again and again.
She truly was wild and free, beautiful and spirited, and the best thing that had come into Reeves’s life ever. She broke the kiss, and he pulled in a mighty breath, his chest tight and his heartbeat crashing against his ribs.
He opened his eyes to find Bailey had ducked her head, and then she turned slightly and looked out the front window.
Reeves did the same, and he found a couple of young men laughing and dancing away from the hood of his truck.
Only then did his brain conjure up the sound of someone slapping the vehicle, and he realized that Bailey had heard it and stopped the kiss.
“Sorry about that,” he muttered as he positioned himself on his side of the truck completely and sat up straight in his seat.
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for,” Bailey said. When he looked over to her, he found her touching her bottom lip. She dropped her hand and then reached for her purse on the floor. “Do you still want to go eat?”
“I sure do,” he said. “I’ll come get your door.” He got out of the truck, which broke some of the tension inside, and he glared at the two young men who went into Westinghouse as he rounded the hood.
Great, now he and Bailey would have to see them in there. Hopefully, they would get their food to go, and he and Bailey would be able to enjoy their dinner in peace.
You could also get your dinner to go, he thought. And take her over to Swain’s Creek and eat out of the back of the truck. He’d thought through many options that would allow him to spend time with Bailey in a meaningful way, while also staying out of crowded locations.
It was Saturday night, and Westinghouse wasn’t one of the higher-end restaurants in Coral Canyon, but it definitely wasn’t outside of town either. They were closed on Sunday, and a lot of people came to buy their bread for Sabbath day meals or their fifty-percent off pastries after eight p.m.
Reeves opened Bailey’s door and extended his hand toward her. She then unbuckled, put her hand in his, and slid to the ground. “You look like you’re calculating something,” she said.
“Do I?” Reeves didn’t know how to clear his expression from whatever she’d seen, so he simply faced the row of businesses in front of him, pushed Bailey’s door closed, and headed toward Westinghouse.
“I know it’s hard for you to be out in public,” she said. “We could get our food and go see if there’s more wildflowers in another meadow.”
Reeves shook his head. “There won’t be,” he said. “It’s still too early.” He glanced over to her, his heart warming. “But thank you for offering. That means a lot.”
“We could still take our food somewhere else,” she said. “Whiskey Mountain Lodge has great picnic tables on the edge of the forest.”
He stepped up onto the sidewalk and reached for the door. It chimed as he pulled it open, and Bailey entered first.
Reeves quickly crowded in behind her. She wore a pair of black slacks tonight with a pink, purple, and white-plaid blouse with puffy sleeves.
She’d left her jacket in the car, while Reeves wore a black leather jacket over a simple light brown T-shirt.
As he’d been going through his clothing options for fast-casual restaurant dates, he’d realized that the majority of his wardrobe bore his logo or had knives and steaks on it.
This shirt, in fact, had both, but the logo was on the left side, currently covered by his jacket, and the steak hanging off the tip of the knife was on the back.
He immediately looked around to see how busy the restaurant was.
The early hour meant that only a half-dozen tables held people, though the restaurant boasted room for probably four or five times that.
The young men who’d entered in front of him stood at the cash register, paying, and he slowed as he walked down the aisle on the left side, looking at the menu items hanging on the wall.
Perhaps that would buy him enough time for them to move on.
He wasn’t sure why he cared. He hadn’t done anything wrong by kissing Bailey, and he didn’t really care who saw them. He didn’t want her to be embarrassed, though, so he linked his left arm through her right and stepped slightly in front of her to shield her from their view.
“Have you been here before?” he asked.
“Loads of times,” Bailey said. “Sometimes I send Marina here to get lunch for the clinic.” She looked at him, her blue eyes sparkling and playful again, and a wave of happiness moved through Reeves. “Do you want me to order for you?”
He raised his eyebrows. “You think you know me well enough to order for me?”
“For this, I do.” She grinned like it was the only thing she knew how to do, and Reeves gave in.
He returned her smile and said, “All right, you do your best now.”
He’d eat whatever she ordered, he knew that. He also had a feeling this wouldn’t be the last time he gave in to what this gorgeous woman wanted. She led him down the aisle to where the first woman waited to take their order.
“I’ll have the CBLT salad bowl,” she said.
“What dressing?”
“Ranch,” Bailey said. “And can I get extra croutons on that?”
“Yep.” The woman tapped a few times on her screen, and then looked up expectantly. “You can modify the salad on the line.” She indicated the space to their right, and Bailey glanced that way for a moment.
“And I want that triple berry lemonade,” Bailey said. “And…one of your fruity crispy rice treats.”
The woman looked down again, and Bailey cut a glance over to Reeves.
He once again felt like he’d climbed onto some sort of carnival ride—one that spun in one direction until he thought he might be sick, and then started whipping him in the other.
Bailey had transformed into a completely different woman from the one he’d picked up for their date, and while he’d take her any way he could get her, he sure did like this happy, at-ease female beside him.
“And we want a steak and cheese hot dish sambo,” she said.
Reeves immediately started searching the menu board for it. He did like steak and cheese, and while he wasn’t quite sure what “hot dish” meant, he trusted Bailey.
“Sourdough, honey, whole wheat?” The woman looked up, her eyebrows raised. “You can have that on any of our signature breads.”
“Focaccia,” Bailey said. “No, the salted focaccia. Can you get the sambo on that?”
“Yes, ma’am,” she said.
“With extra gravy on the side,” Bailey said. “It’s the brown gravy, right?”
“Yes,” the woman said.
“Yes, that’s what he wants.” Bailey looked at him, her eyes bright, and her teeth sparkling in her smile. “Trust me, you’re gonna love this.”
“I’ll take your word for it,” he said, the low rumble of his own voice barely meeting his ears.
“Something to drink?” the woman asked. “Dessert?”
“We’ll take the cookie crumble pie,” Bailey said thoughtfully. “And a fountain drink.”
She looked at Reeves as another couple of people came over and peered at the tablet in front of her. The worker read back their order, handed over the cups for their drinks, and indicated they should go down the line.
One of the workers who’d come over started building Bailey’s salad, and she had him add more croutons, and then more croutons, and then even more, until she was satisfied.
The other worker worked on a hot line with his back to Reeves, and they went down the length of the counter where someone had placed her multicolored rice-cereal-and-marshmallow treat and his cookie crumble pie, which looked mostly to be made of Oreos and whipped cream.
Bailey had somehow found a tray, and Reeves took the items and loaded them onto it. Their meals came on real dishes, which she placed on the tray while he paid.
Then Bailey went to fill up his soda for him.
She chose a table in the corner away from the door and the ordering line, and Reeves wanted to kiss her again for her thoughtfulness and consideration of his feelings.
She’d already moved his chair so he could sit with his back to the world by the time he arrived with their tray of food.
“I hate eating off a tray,” Bailey said, and she unloaded her enormous salad bowl and put it in front of her place, then did the same with his plate.
He removed their desserts and turned to find a place to store the tray. The garbage can had a rack above it with other empty trays, and he moved in that direction to put his there as well. Then he returned to the table and Bailey, who’d sat down and laid out a napkin for herself already.
She smiled at him. “I can’t wait to see if you like this.”
He took his seat and looked down at his open-face sandwich, where two pieces of focaccia had been laid out and covered with tater tots, cheese, and steak.
Brown gravy covered the entire thing, and he had an extra cup of it in front of him.
The scent of salt and roasted meat met his nose, and Reeves’s stomach growled.
“It looks amazing,” he said. “I can’t imagine I won’t like it.”
“Hot dish usually has vegetables,” Bailey said. “But one of the best parts about this one is that it’s literally just bread, meat, and potatoes.”
“Don’t forget the cheese,” Reeves said with a smile.
Bailey giggled as she started to mix together her crouton salad with a side of chicken, bacon, lettuce, tomato, and ranch.
“You’re a real crouton aficionado.” He nodded the brim of his cowboy hat toward her bowl.
“I love croutons,” Bailey said. There was not an ounce of defensiveness or humiliation anywhere.
“When my parents asked us what snacks we wanted, my brother always said peanut butter crackers, and my cousin always wanted potato chips—you know, just the plain ones in the yellow bag?” She grinned.
“I wanted croutons. Butter and garlic were my favorite growing up, but I switched to the ranch-flavored ones in college.”
Reeves blinked, her joy filling him from top to bottom. “You eat croutons out of the bag like chips or pretzels?”
She laughed, the sound of it brightening his life in a way that made Reeves realize how dim it had become. “That’s right,” she said, and she put her first bite of her salad in her mouth. Her eyes rolled back in her head, and she moaned. “Yes, I love this salad.”
Reeves picked up his knife and fork and cut off a corner of his steak and cheese hot dish sambo—a word he’d never thought he’d think or speak in his life.
He got plenty of tater tot with the focaccia, steak, cheese, and gravy, and put the whole thing in his mouth.
The different textures made a party, and he got salt, meat, and a hint of dryness from the provolone that made him give the same reaction she’d just put on display for him.
She laughed again, but even as she shook her head, she said, “I’m glad you like it.”
“It’s really good,” he said, plenty of surprise in his voice.
“And we’re practically eating downtown.” Bailey gave him a knowing look and took another bite of her salad.
When she’d started talking about OJ and Bryce, Reeves thought tonight would be a really great time to tell her about his online persona and business.
But only a few sentences in, he’d realized that she needed tonight to be about her, and that once she told him what she needed to, she’d simply need reassurance and comfort from him, not his own confession.
So, while the tension between them had definitely shifted and broken and dissipated, it seemed to have all found a way into Reeves’s heart and soul, where it was slowly squeezing the life out of him.
“Thank you for letting me talk about the Youngs,” she said.
Reeves looked up to meet her eyes. “Of course,” he said. “Like I said, you can talk to me about anything you want.”
She nodded and looked out the window to her left, her gaze taking on a faraway quality. “For a while there, after Bryce and I gave up OJ, I wondered if I’d made a terrible mistake.”
“I’m sure,” Reeves said, though he honestly had no idea how giving up a baby for adoption would feel.
“But then I see them,” she said, shaking her head. “And they’re touring the world for Country Quad, and playing on stages, and they have these great big careers that everyone knows about.” She shook her head, her eyes coming back to his. “And I realized that’s not what I want.”
“What do you want?” Reeves asked.
Bailey wore open vulnerability in her expression. “I want the small-town life,” she said. “I want my clinic to thrive, and I want to work with animals, but I don’t need accolades. I don’t want celebrity.”
Reeves’s throat closed up immediately, but Bailey continued.
“I just want what we have—our farms out of the way, Friday night dates, hiking dates to meadows, and the slow, simple problem of putting in a duck pond, though it’s beyond my capabilities.
” She laughed lightly, and Reeves managed to smile.
“Just something simple and small,” she said. “That’s why I moved back to Coral Canyon.”
Reeves nodded, and though God hadn’t provided a way for him to tell her about his online celebrity, He was kind enough to help Reeves say, “That sounds like a great life, wildflower.”
“Right?” She took another bite of her salad, seemingly unaware of the turmoil now boiling through Reeves.
Reeves knew he had to tell her about his video channel, and soon. He sent up one more plea to heaven, asking God to please, please, please provide the right time and all the right words.
Very, very soon.