CHAPTER SEVEN
JAMES
“Yes. If you’re willing.” My voice doesn’t betray how anxious I feel or the fact that my heart is thudding so hard I’m surprised she can’t hear it. “I don't have a roadmap for this, Holly. It’s something I haven’t planned for or wanted. And now we’re here together and it feels right.”
She doesn't say anything right away. Her green eyes flicker over my face like she's trying to decide if I mean it.
I don't blame her for the doubt. I gave her every reason for it Saturday morning, and I'm aware that one good conversation over Italian doesn't erase that.
“I keep running through all the reasons I should keep my distance,” I say. “I'm too set in my ways. I work too much. I don’t know if I can be the man you need.”
Holly nods. “But?”
I laugh. “But I can’t stop thinking about you.”
Her upper teeth scrape over her plump bottom lip drawing my gaze. Such a small motion, yet so fascinating. She fascinates me.
“I couldn’t stop thinking about you either,” she admits.
Hope and something deeper slams into me. It takes a second to work through it then I realize with a bit of wonder that for the first time in far longer than I want to admit, I’m looking forward to getting to know someone and a part of me grasps how important this is.
“I'm scared,” I say, and the word feels foreign in my mouth.
I don't think I've said it out loud to another adult since I was fifteen, sitting in a hospital waiting room while a chaplain tried to find the right words for what had already happened.
“Of disappointing you.” Releasing a deep breath, I lock eyes with her.
“Of disappointing myself by ruining this.”
“Everybody's scared of that,” she says. “I don't think there's a version of caring about someone that doesn't come with being scared of losing them.”
“You don't seem scared of anything. You took a chance on a stranger at a bar.”
Grinning, Holly reaches for my hand. “You took a chance on a stranger too.”
I squeeze her fingers. “But then I sent you away.” Remorse fills me at that. I knew it was the wrong decision, but I did it anyway.
She squeezes back. “You did and then you found me again. That took bravery.”
Giovanni comes by to clear our plates and asks about desert. We both shake our heads and he sets the check down on my side and wishes us a wonderful evening.
And it has been wonderful.
I pick up the check and while getting out a credit card Holly reaches for her purse. “Don’t even try that,” I say.
“I don’t want to assume and besides I feel like I owe you after dinging your car.”
Anyone else hitting my car and it would have annoyed me but I’ve been so caught up in seeing Holly again that I completely forgot about it. “Oh, well when you put it that way.” I nudge the bill her way and then snatch it away when she reaches for it.
“I’m not letting you pay and don’t worry about the car, I’m sure it’s nothing.”
After the bill is settled we head out into the parking lot.
Since we’ve been inside it’s started to snow.
Fat unhurried flakes drift down under the streetlights, the kind that look soft and harmless until they accumulate into something that shuts down half the state.
Delaware doesn't handle snow well. I've lived here long enough to know that a forecast like this usually means an extra thirty minutes added to my commute and at least three cancelled appointments from elderly patients. Tonight I can't bring myself to care.
As we walk, my fingers twitch with the urge to capture her hand. It’s crazy how something as simple as hand holding suddenly feels important to me.
My car is exactly where I left it, parked precisely between the lines, while the older blue SUV is parked close enough that I have to wonder how she managed to squeeze out of her door.
It’s no surprise she dinged my door. The scuff mark is still there on the passenger side, a thin streak of blue against the black paint, barely visible under the parking lot lights.
She winces when she sees the blue mark on the midnight black car. “I really am sorry about that.”
“I’m going to have to insist on getting your number.”
Nodding, Holly starts digging in her purse and pulls out her wallet, offering me her insurance card.
Laughing, I retrieve my phone from my front pocket. “I said number not insurance information. I want to be able to call you.”
Her green eyes go wide. “Oh.”
Some of my confidence ebbs. “We did agree to give this a try?”
She shoves her card into her wallet and drops it back into her purse. “We did. I just have to get used to your sense of humor.”
“A few people would argue that I don’t have one.”
Unlocking her phone she holds it out to me and I do the same.
“Then those people haven’t been lucky enough to spend time with you.”
And she means it. I can tell and something in me that’s been cold and lonely for so long cracks. Unable to meet her smiling gaze, I busy myself putting my contact information into her phone.
Repocketing my phone, we stand there, as the snow drifts around us, making the world look like a snow globe that’s been shaken.
Which is exactly what’s happened to me. A woman named Holly entered my life and now everything feels shaken and different.
And perhaps this is just what I needed even if I didn’t realize that.
“I want to kiss you,” I announce. “I don't think I should. You were clear about what you need, and a kiss in a parking lot isn't going to prove I can give it to you.”
“Probably not,” she agrees. “But not kissing me isn’t going to prove anything either.”
Before I can formulate an answer to that, she steps closer, places her palms on my chest and kisses me.
Her lips are warm and soft and, with a groan, I plant my hands on her waist and kiss her back. Our lips move hungrily together and before long the kiss deepens and her back hits the side of her SUV with a low thump. Still the kiss goes on until loud laughter nearby has us pulling our lips apart.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Holly’s smile is bright and so damn warm I don’t even feel the chill to the air. “You’re welcome. I think we both needed that.”
“I think you’re right.”
The slam of car doors has us glancing over as the car on the other side of mine takes off . We watch the red taillights as they depart the parking lot until they’re swallowed up by the snow.
“Saturday,” she says, giving my chest a pat. “There's a Christmas market downtown. I usually go in the afternoon.”
“Tomorrow's Saturday.”
“I know.” Her smile turns a little smug. “Does Twelve work?”
Rapidly I go over my schedule, I don’t have a shift at the hospital, this entire weekend is free. “It works.”
“Good. I’ll see you there.”
I press my hands atop hers. “Can I pick you up?”
She debates for a moment before nodding. “I’ll text you my address.”
I don’t want the evening to end, but with our next date to look forward to it seems like the natural end to our night.
“Let me move my car so you can get into yours easier.”
Holly laughs. “What, you don’t want another ding?”
She steps to the front of her SUV as I climb into mine and back it out. Before I can park and get back out, she’s in her vehicle and reversing. Her window slides down so I do the same.
“Goodnight James. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“Count on it.”
Driving home with heater and heated seats on, I replay the night in my head, the same way I'd review test results, looking for what I might have missed, what could still go wrong. But I don't find anything that makes me want to turn back.
I just find Holly.
Maybe that's the part I never let myself consider. That courage isn't the absence of fear. It's deciding what’s on the other side of fear is worth walking through anyway.
And she’s worth it.