17. Carina
SEVENTEEN
CARINA
Henrik will be here in an hour, and I can’t decide between the deep-blue dress that reminds me of his eyes or my always-reliable LBD. Butterflies have been fluttering in my stomach since noon when I realized this date was really happening.
After putting the final touches on my beachy waves, I spray them with a bit of hairspray before working on my makeup.
I keep everything simple, as I don’t usually wear much more than some foundation and mascara.
At the last minute, I add a light shimmer to my eyelids to match the sparkling belt at the waistline of the V-neck blue lace cocktail dress.
At exactly six thirty, I hear a knock. This is really happening. My pulse races and my tummy flips. I think at this point I’m seventy percent thrilled, and thirty percent terrified at the thought that I’m finally going on a date with the guy I’ve been crushing on from afar for over a decade.
Leaning against the bathroom counter, I close my eyes and take two deep, cleansing breaths.
Extremely excited, I grab my wristlet off my bed and head for the front door.
Opening it, my words falter, dying on my lips, as the most handsome man I’ve ever seen stands before me, holding a gorgeous bouquet of various flowers in differing shades of red.
“Thank you. These are beautiful,” I say as he hands them to me. A warmth blooms in my chest. He is the only person, other than my parents, to ever give me flowers. "Let me put these in water." After doing that, I moved back to him and smile.
We each take a moment to study the other.
His gaze traces over me like a gentle, heated touch.
And instead of feeling anxious, I’m strangely calm.
When he speaks, I’m blown away. “Carina, you are absolutely stunning.” I practically melt in front of him.
His words are deep and rich, settling into my every atom.
I smile at his compliment. “You look incredibly handsome,” I reply as I take in the perfect fit of his dress shirt and pants.
They highlight his muscular build without making him look bulky.
When I reach his face, I hold back a squeal.
He trimmed his beard, making it look soft. My fingers flex, wanting to stroke it.
“Are you ready to go?” he asks, offering me his hand. I grab my peacoat and slip it on before taking his hand.
“Thank you,” I say when he leads me to his truck and opens my door.
When we get to the restaurant, my eyes widen as the hostess leads us to our table. The elegance of the dining area leaves me speechless. From the white tablecloths, polished silverware, crystal glasses, candles, and chandeliers, I feel like I’ve stepped into another world.
“Wow,” I whisper as I lower into my chair. Henrik settles across from me, and I hold back a laugh. His eyes are as wide as saucers. Curious, I ask, “Have you ever been here before?”
He shakes his head no. “You?”
“No,” I answer. “But I always wanted to.”
He sits taller, puffs out his chest, and cracks a full smile.
The wait staff returns with freshly baked bread and sparkling water before they share the daily specials. “Can we have a minute to look over the menu?” Henrik asks.
“Of course. I’ll be back shortly,” the wait staff says before heading off to check on another table.
And now it’s just me and Henrik. Alone.
A few minutes later, Henrik asks, “What looks good to you?”
“The cedar-planked salmon sounds delicious. What are you getting?”
“That’s a tough choice, but I think I’ll get the dry aged ribeye.” I smile at him. That sounds amazing too.
After our coffee date, I’d wondered if our subsequent conversations would resume with ease.
Tonight, I discover the answer is yes. Although we don’t always share the same opinions, our connection is full of respect, kindness, and honesty.
I don’t feel the need to say what I think he wants to hear.
I freely express myself without worrying he’ll judge me.
He responds in kind, and I find myself eager to hear what he has to say.
Our conversation is lively, funny, serious, and emotional.
Before Henrik, I don’t recall ever having such an honest and stimulating dialogue with a man other than my dad. I feel empowered and seen.
My favorite part of the evening is when Henrik asks me what I love most about the ocean. Over coffee and a piece of shared chocolate-peanut butter pie, I allow him access to another part of me I’ve kept firmly protected.
“There are two things I love about the ocean, and seeing that you have as strong of a connection to it as I do, you might understand.” I take another sip of my mocha before I strip my last layer away. “I’m in complete awe of her unbridled power and the freedom she offers.”
Henrik licks his lips, and I follow the path of his tongue, mesmerized, waiting for what he’ll say next.
The seconds feel like hours, and my stomach clenches.
Panicked, I question whether I should have kept that to myself until we knew each other better.
Will he think I’m crazy? My shoulders tighten.
I only shared that piece of me because I’ve been so relaxed with him.
He’s easy to talk to. I feel like I’ve known him forever.
He clears his throat. “I hope you don’t mind me saying…” My palms sweat and my mind spins as he pauses for a beat. Here we go. “But that is the best reasoning I’ve ever heard. I’m sorry it took me so long to respond, but I was considering another factor that I might add.”
“Okay,” I hesitantly respond, relieved that he’s not judging me.
“I’d add control too. Because when you’re at her mercy, she’s got it, and there’s nothing you can do.”
He gets it. A smile from the deepest part of my soul reaches my face, tugging at my lips.
“You’re beautiful,” he says, and my cheeks grow hot while my heart thumps against my breastbone.
After paying the bill, he escorts me back to his truck. While walking, our fingers brush. He surprises me when he gathers my hand in his. A spark of electricity travels up my arm. Heat chases behind it, covering me with a warm buzz.
Helping me into his truck, the rush of being near such an incredible man overwhelms me, and I suck a greedy breath into my lungs.
A tinge of his woodsy-scented cologne invades my nose and makes my mouth water.
Before pulling out of the parking lot, he weaves our fingers together, and we hold hands the entire way home.
The connection we share is incredible. It feels so right.
Not wanting our incredible night to end, I consider my options: invite him in or say goodnight? The thought of inviting him in excites me. But will he expect more from me if I do? It’s only our first date. Since I don’t have much experience with this, I’m relying on my gut to lead me.
When he pulls up to my apartment building and turns off the truck, my heart rate increases. Already feeling a strong connection to him, I take a chance and whisper, “Do you want to come in?”
He gives me a half-smile. “I want to, but I shouldn’t.” Disappointed, my shoulders drop at his admission. He squeezes my hand. “Can I take you out again, though?”
“Again?” I ask, making sure I heard him correctly. He nods before placing his hand on my chin and bringing my face to his. His breath whispers against my lips right before he gives me a sweet, chaste kiss. Pulling away, he breathes out and rests his forehead against mine before answering.
“Yes. I want to take you out again.”
I cup his cheeks with my hands, feeling his soft, smooth beard. “I’d like that. Maybe next time we can go more casual? I think that’s more our speed, don’t you?”
His deep laughter fills the cab of the truck, and not only does it make me smile, it warms me like I’m being wrapped in the best hug.
We’re still only inches apart, and I mentally beg him to kiss me again.
I lick my lips, and he blinks at the action.
Did he see my invitation? Moving closer, he runs his finger along my jawline and nudges my chin up.
I close my eyes, waiting for him to close the distance.
When he does, his soft, warm lips press to mine, and I release the moan I’ve been holding.
In less than a second, Henrik’s hands cradle my face, and he’s taking the kiss further. Holy shit.
I open my mouth, welcoming him in. Our tongues tentatively touch as he moves closer.
It’s a good thing he has a center console, or I’m sure I would climb over and straddle his lap.
Henrik strokes his tongue against mine. Am I dreaming?
If so, I never want to wake up. He tastes divine, with notes of chocolate, peanut butter, and coffee.
This is heaven. I want more. I move my hands to his neck and pull him closer.
He growls and nips my lower lip. His thumb trails down my neck, and I have my answer.
His hands are rough, reminding me of the hard-working man he is.
Even though they’re callused, I want them all over my body, tracing over every inch of my skin.
I want him to discover all of me. Just the thought of that overheats my core, and my center throbs.
Needing relief, I squeeze my thighs together.
I’m about to ask him if we can take this inside, when he pulls away.
Panting, I lean back against my seat, questioning why he stopped.
With a shaky voice, he says, “I’m sorry, Carina. I lost control for a minute. It wasn’t my plan to ravage you in my truck tonight.” I want to scream, “I wish you would.” But when I glance at him, he looks troubled. My heart twists. I don’t like to see him upset.
“Henrik.” I grab his hand, stroking it. “Please don’t apologize.
I enjoyed kissing you so much. It was the best kiss I’ve ever had.
And…” I pause, wondering if I should admit my feelings.
His dark eyes stare back at me, hungry for me and my answers.
Licking my lips, I confess, “I look forward to you ravaging me. But I agree. It probably shouldn’t be in your truck. ”
He forces a smile and then winces. “I’m sorry. I’m not good at this.”
“What do you mean?”
“Dating. I’ve never dated anyone before. And I’m not saying that’s what we’re doing, but I already know I like you a lot, and I hope you’ll give me another chance to take you out.” Sigh. His rambles are adorable.
I feel the pull of my smile on my heated cheeks. “Good. I was hoping we’d go out again. Truth is, I have little dating experience either, and I like you a lot too. Let’s not worry about a label and just enjoy spending time together.”
“Let me walk you to your door.” He gets out of the truck, walks around the hood, and helps me down. What a gentleman.
When we get to my door, I turn to him. Standing in the hall, he strokes his beard, and I can’t help myself any longer.
The quick feel I got in the truck wasn’t enough.
I reach out and replace his fingers with mine.
It’s incredibly soft. Without wanting to make it weird, I drop my hand and laugh.
“Sorry. I’ve been wondering all night how soft your beard is. ”
He weaves our fingers together and, in a gruff tone that sends sexy shivers rolling through me, says my name.
“Carina.” My nipples tighten, and I know I should go into my apartment before I lose my mind.
Gazing into his deep, dark eyes, I get lost in them.
Damn, he’s sexy. “Can I have another kiss before I go?”
I nod.
He gives me a sexy grin before he leans down and gives me the sweetest kiss. Before he pulls away, he snags my lower lip between his teeth. Surprised, I release a deep-throated moan. What is he doing to me? I’ve never been so responsive.
His words echo my thoughts when he rasps, “What are you doing to me?” I don’t have an answer, so I say nothing.
“I’ll call you tomorrow.” Reaching for the door handle, I unlock the door and push it open.
“Carina,” he says again, his voice thick like marmalade.
My thighs squeeze together, and after tonight’s activities, I know my panties are damp.
Turning, I whisper, “Yeah?”
He hands me an envelope I hadn’t seen him carrying. “Sweet dreams, gorgeous.”
“Thank you for the wonderful night,” I say before I walk into my apartment, feeling like I’m floating on air.
This was the best night. I engage the locks and look out the peephole.
I watch as he smiles, then turns away and walks out of sight.
Then I carefully open the lumpy envelope.
I remove a card and look inside to see what’s causing its unique texture.
An array of beautiful sea glass is nestled inside.
Turning over the card, I see a note scribbled in masculine penmanship.
The waves, the wind, and the love of sea glass is our shared connection with nature and each other.
~Henrik