Chapter 28 #2
“Oh,” she whispered numbly, feeling like a fool stumbling around in a cloudy haze. He bought her a new coat – a fancy new coat? She glanced at Tate – and saw his cool expression falter as he removed his hands from his pockets and started toward them, realizing there was an issue.
A big issue.
Or at least in her mind there was…
Nettie hesitated, feeling nervous and lowly, like she was beneath him. She was not dressed to go someplace fancy, even wearing her nicest of things – and now he was supplying her with a new coat?
“Edwin,” Tate began tersely and took the coat from the driver. “We’ll meet you at the door in a moment.”
“Certainly, sir,” Edwin replied in that lofty voice.
“What’s wrong, Sticks?” Tate said gently, his expression softening for her. “I wanted you to have something really warm because we’re supposed to get a dusting of snow.”
“It’s lovely, but… this is a bit much.”
“Not for my girl,” he murmured and nodded. “Turn around.”
“Tate…”
“You look ravishing,” he whispered against her shoulder, lips brushing her throat as he slipped the coat onto her arms with a reverence that made her tremble. “You always shine like a diamond, and seeing you like this is everything.”
Her eyes stung, and she was glad she’d skipped the mascara. When she dared to turn, expecting him to tease, she found only warmth in his gaze. A tender smile curved his lips as his eyes held hers.
“Beautiful,” he breathed. And she felt it. Not just the word, but the belief behind it, flooding through her like sunlight. “Shall we?”
He held out his hand to her, smiling.
Awkward but willing, she slid her fingers into his. Memories of their first handhold surged back—the hesitation, the thrill, the quiet certainty that something important had shifted between them. Tonight felt like that again, magnified.
He walked her to the limo with deliberate grace, steady, protective. His focus didn’t waver from her, dark and intense, until they reached the gleaming car. Edwin opened the door. Tate gestured for her to enter first.
The moment Nettie slid into the plush seat, her mouth fell open.
Rose petals scattered across the dark leather interior like a secret garden had bloomed just for her.
Crystal flutes sparkled with golden liquid, fizzing gently on polished wood.
The air smelled faintly of roses and champagne. Her throat tightened.
Tate joined her, closing them in a cocoon of quiet luxury. He picked up the glasses, handed her one, and lifted his in a silent toast. The crystal sang with a clear “ting” as they touched, and it vibrated straight into her heart.
“You weren’t kidding,” she breathed.
“With you – never,” His voice was velvet. “To all the ships – friendship, relationship, partnerships, and more…”
“More?” she whispered tearfully, overcome with emotion at the show he was putting on for her sake. It was all so much, and her heart was beating wildly in her chest at the soft smile that seemed to be always present when he was around her now.
“There’s got to be more out there because eternity isn’t long enough to discover what life with you would be like,” he began and paused. “You make me happy, Sticks, and I’m really growing to enjoy this feeling.”
Her brain short-circuited.
Omigosh. Omigosh.
She swallowed as the car began to roll forward, nearly spilling her drink as her mind exploded with so many thoughts.
Was he about to say the ‘L-word’? Was this just a first date with them?
Was every date going to be like this? They’d been out so many times, but he seemed to be trying so hard, putting his all into this – whatever this was – and what if he proposed?
She had been mid-sip when that thought caused her to inhale the champagne, resulting in her coughing madly and nearly spraying the golden fluid in his face. Somehow she managed to keep it down, sputtering and choking, while Tate patted her back, looking concerned.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” she strangled out, nodding as the tip of her nose felt like she’d inhaled water from the swimming pool, and her sinuses were eerily popping from the champagne bubbles. All she could smell was grapes and fizz – if a person could actually smell fizz.
“Nettie?”
“Yeah?”
“Relax,” he said knowingly and laced his fingers with hers. “We both can’t be on the edge of a panic attack, or we won’t have a nice time.”
“You’re nervous?”
“Very,” Tate admitted in a hushed voice. “I want to make a heckuva impression on the girl that has taken over my world. What happens if you decide you’re tired of me or you’d like someone a little more romantic?”
“I don’t think that’s possible.”
“I’m glad you believe that.”
“Tate?”
“Yeah, Sticks?”
“Can we just be… us?” she asked softly, afraid to break the spell. “Can we just be those two people who like to make cookies together, scratch Mulligan’s belly, or ride a motorcycle at breakneck speeds before shoveling down hashbrown casserole?”
His eyes locked on hers, deep and searching, before he pressed his forehead to hers. He didn’t move, didn’t speak, just breathed with her.
“Tate?”
“Sticks,” he breathed, not pulling away or moving, almost like he was trying to connect with her on another level. “I think you are perhaps the best person I have ever met in this world – and I love that you enjoyed those things.”
“I enjoyed them because I was with you,” she admitted softly. “And you look at me like I’m important. It makes me feel good inside.”
“What if…” he began and then shook his head, backing away slightly. “Do you like Italian food?”
“Love it.”
“Good,” he said simply.
She stared at his profile, wondering what he’d been about to say to her – and wondering if she’d done something wrong by suggesting that they just be themselves.
Twenty minutes later, the limousine pulled up on the side of a dark building that had warm yellow lights glittering around it, while crooning Italian music wafted in the air.
She saw people in the distance waiting around the front of the building, and for a second, she wondered if they were getting a to-go order and picnicking in the limo.
That would be fine with me, she thought only a split second before Edwin opened the passenger side door, waiting with that silly umbrella again. She glanced at Tate, saw his nod, and got out of the car, smiling at Edwin.
“It’s not going to rain tonight.”
“No, Miss, but it won’t snow on you either – not on my watch,” Edwin promised serenely, but his lips were twitching with barely restrained laughter. Maybe this was how the upper crust traveled?
Tate put a gentle hand on her lower back, ushering her forward as the door beside the fire exit suddenly opened and a man leaned out, waving. Tate urged her forward a little faster as the man pumped his arm, waving harder.
What was going on? She thought silently and emerged into a very busy kitchen that was in the middle of a full-blown rush hour for dinner.
“Heeey-yo, you must be Tate-eh?”
“And you’re Vinny,” Tate said, shaking the large man’s hand as Vinny turned to look at her.
“And you? You’re his sweet Bernadette, eh?” he exclaimed in delight, making a chef’s kiss motion as he puckers at his fingers in the air – and everyone around them shouted ‘Hey!’ at once.
“Oh!” she chuckled nervously and saw Tate’s amused smile, treasuring the way he softly rubbed her shoulder blades through the coat almost affectionately. “Everyone calls me Nettie,” she offered, daintily shaking Vinny’s hand while giving him a weird curtsy. “It’s very nice to meet you, sir.”
“None of that here,” Vinny brushed her off with a wave. “We’re just a bunch of hardworkin’ peoples that love some good Italian food.”
“You’re Italian?”
“I’m a New Yorker with Italian roots, so it’s almost the same thing in my book, eh? Eh?”
Nettie chuckled, marveling at his thick accent as he shuffled her to the side quickly out of the way of a sous-chef who was incredibly busy and moving with purpose.
She might actually get ‘mowed down’ here if she stood in the wrong spot, but the smells – oh man, the smells coming from the kitchen around her were worth it.
“Yous two are in here – the house special a’la Vinny,” Vinny exclaimed, once again kissing his fingertips. “You need anything, you gimme a shout and I’ll send my girl back here to get yous-guys orders… okay?”
“Thank you,” they both murmured at the same time, taking a seat at the small private booth that was tucked in a room off to the side.
“Oh, and Bernadette?” Vinny began, turning back to the table in a rush.
“Take it from me - you’re gonna want to try the affogato al caffè for dessert.
It’s new and Gerry’s wife loves the stuff,” he proclaimed, yanking the velvet curtains shut with a whoosh that caused her to blink as she looked at Tate.
A single candle flickered between them, where it was mounted on a raffia-covered bottle with wax dripping down the neck.
“Gerry’s wife?” she asked softly, curious.
Tate smiled tenderly, resting his chin on his knuckles as he gazed at her like she was the Mona Lisa.
“Gerry Thierry – the captain of the Coyotes, remember? His wife is Molly, the physical trainer for the team. He’s the guy I was filling in for that day as the captain.
They come here quite a bit and suggested this place when I mentioned that I wanted to treat my girl to someplace nice and romantic. ”
Nettie felt her lip tremble at the tenderness in his dark eyes over the candle that flickered and danced between them. This was so casual and so weirdly sweet, that it made her chuckle.
Weird.
Again.
“What?” he asked curiously, smiling at her – and she shook her head nervously. “No, you have to tell me, or I’m going to think the worst.”
“This is… wonderful,” she replied openly, refusing to utter the word ‘weird’ to ruin this evening when he’d made it so magical for her. “I feel like a princess, and I’m so flattered that you’ve done all of this for us.”