4
I tug Nick urgently towards the propped open glass door of Dot’s Diner. It’s next to an auto-parts store on one side and an empty lot that legend has it once held an old house that got turned into a run-down store some time before it burned down about fifty years ago. I hear a slightly different version every time I ask one of the old timers about it. I can’t think of a better place to introduce Kansas to Nick than Dot’s.
Nick, though, looks extremely skeptical. “Come on, Nick.” I prod him gently with one eye on a family of eight making strides down the sidewalk towards us. Not only will they probably take up two adjacent tables, but they’ll crowd the aisle while they wait for them. There’s nothing rude in keeping to a normal walking pace which will put us inside the diner’s door first.
Finally, I leave Nick’s side and walk inside. I figure he can catch up to me after I get us a booth. But strangely, that seemed to be the necessary motivation, and he’s quickly standing next to me, drawing all eyes in the restaurant. At first I looked almost as out of place as he does, but now that I’ve gotten some sun and switched to a more casual ‘farm-chic’ wardrobe, I still look like an out of towner, but not an alien one.
Nick doesn’t even blink to acknowledge being the center of so much attention. He simply follows me to the booth at the back and then slides in next to me. Not so close we’re touching, but closer than casual acquaintances would sit. Frankly, I expected him to sit opposite and take advantage of the seat more proportioned for a man of his size than anything in New York. Dot’s is more of a breakfast hangout, but they do serve other meals, and I happen to know that there are a few house specialties that might catch Nick’s eye. I watch him scan the laminated menu like it’s a foreign object before squinting at the tiny print. I can tell when he finds it because his eyes light up and then he gets that ‘I’d better not get my hopes up’ look.
“Try it. If it’s not up to your standards, I’ll spend one week a year in New York with you,” I whisper.
Nick stares at me soberly, his mouth turned down. “You’re my wife. You will spend all your weeks with me.”
I roll my eyes. “I didn’t say I wasn’t, but I am staying here. I’m offering you a food escape once a year. But mostly I was trying to be nice. You’re going to love them.” I turn my head at the sound of approaching footsteps. “Hiya, Trina. I’ll have the burger with fries and he’ll have the pierogies.” I smile at our waitress as I pluck the menu from Nick’s hands and hand them both over to her. Nick continues to stare at me like he’s never seen me before.
“What?” I ask, finally starting to feel a little self-conscious.
“You are different here,” he finally says slowly.
“I know,” I agree with a smile. “I can breathe.”
He glances down at my left hand, the one closest to him. “We have a lot to discuss, little one. I have not forgotten that you lied to me.”
I shift uncomfortably in my seat. “You would have argued.”
He snorts softly. “You know that’s not an acceptable excuse, Candace.”
Ouch, my full name. Admittedly, he’s never called me anything but Candace or Mouse or little one. I’ve only been Candace to him since he called me into his office after my father’s death. I’ve been labeled Candy by pretty much everyone in my life for as long as I can remember, but I’ve never really liked it. Candy’s should be fluffy and happy and not shy and embarrassed all the time. Candace isn’t much better, frankly.
I sigh. “You would have found out my secret,” I admit with defeat. That catches his interest.
“What secret is this?” He leans towards me like I’m going to reveal it to him instantly.
I duck my head and try to will the blush I can feel rising back down where it came from.
The amusement is clear in his tone. “Ah, that secret. The one we still need to discuss in private.” I blush harder.
“Is that your only secret, little mouse?” he asks quietly near my ear.
I shake my head, still not looking at him, a small smile forming on my lips.
“But you will not lie to me again, correct?” His voice has gone stern and I finally look him in the eye. He deserves that from me.
“I won’t lie to you again, Nick. But I expect the truth from you as well.”
He blinks at that, but then I see something like pride shining in his gaze. The moment is interrupted by our food arriving, so I don’t get a chance to find out more.
Nick’s attention is immediately diverted by his plate and the heavenly aroma wafting from it. I watch his eyes light up like a kid at Christmas as he lifts one dumpling on a fork to breathe it in. He bites. He chews slowly and then swallows. He smiles down at me. “You were right. Kansas has something to offer almost as good as New York.”
There’s some muffled laughter from the surrounding booths, but all the smiles are welcoming, so I think they understood what a big admission that was for him and didn’t take offense. I make sure we leave a big tip, though, just in case.
The drive home has an anticipatory silence. I’m not sure what Nick has planned. I doubt he’s going to pounce on me and drag me to bed. Unfortunately. But we’re probably not going to simply say a polite goodnight and go our separate ways, either. And… crap, I don’t even have a bed for the guestroom yet. Not sure how that little detail escaped me until now.
“Um, Nick?”
“Yes?”
“There’s not exactly any place for you to sleep. Do you want to turn around and grab a room at the B&B?” I inject as much innocence in my voice as I can manage, but it’s clear I’m no actress. The sideways glance Nick sends my way is darkly amused.
“I have a bed. Yours.”
“Um. Oh.” I gulp in a breath. “Um?”
“Relax, little one. We will have a long talk when we get back to your little house. Then it will all be clear.”
I stare at his expressionless face, his concentration unnecessarily focused on the completely straight and empty road ahead. My gaze darts to his large hands confidently gripping the steering wheel. His thick fingers are more suited to a prizefighter than a financier. I wonder what he’s thinking? And what does he have planned? Will he treat me like the child I used to be and leave the woman disappointed again?
It’s not a long way back from the small town of Cuthbert, about ten or fifteen minutes, so despite my nerves, we’re pulling into the driveway before I know it. I ignore Nick’s frown when I open the car door instead of waiting for him to come around. “Relax. I’m not helpless. It’s still hot out, so why should we both be more uncomfortable?”
I think I hear him mutter ‘from the mouths of babes,’ but I can’t be sure. He follows me through the door and I watch as he inspects the locks before nodding with approval as he engages them. Now what? My fingers start twisting together involuntarily.
Nick’s gaze drops to my hands and his expression softens. “Come then, little mouse. It’s time to confess your secrets.” Without a word of warning beyond that, he picks me up and carries me into the sunken living room, the one I mentally refer to as the cool room. When he sits down on the sofa, I naturally come with him and I find myself sitting on his lap sideways with my legs extended down the length of the cushions. I frown at my knees for no particular reason except that it means I don’t have to meet his expectant gaze.
“Why do I have to confess anything? Don’t you have some things to explain to me first?” I mutter to break the tension.
“Because your needs take priority, Candace. Always. So it’s important that I not misinterpret your blushes.”
“A year, Nick. I gave you a year and you never even kissed me.” A single tear slides down my cheek and Nick catches it on the end of a blunt finger.
He sighs heavily. “And you apparently weren’t grieving, like I thought. You have no idea how sweet you are, little one. One taste and I would never be able to let you go. I don’t see how I can even now.”
“Then why don’t you…” I plead, but I can’t find the words to finish that sentence — fuck me? Kiss me at the very least?
Nick takes one hand away from my hip where he’s been holding me and waggles his fingers in front of my face. “I’m a big man, Candace. Too big for a little thing like you. And too old as well. I tried to give you the space to be around people your age, but I could never stay completely away. I’m sorry.”
I stare at his fingers, so thick and long, and then scan his face. He believes all that. The sincerity of his apology shines in his dark eyes. “You’re not that old. You’re only eighteen years older than me,” I mutter while glaring at him.
“As I said, you’re very sweet, little mouse. That’s too old for a young woman only just into adulthood. Why would you want to tie yourself to a man who lives in spreadsheets when you should be out attending balls and galas every night?”
I throw up my hands at his sheer hard-headedness. “Nick, would a woman who wanted to attend balls and galas nightly give that up to move to Kansas ?”
He blinks and then smiles slowly. “Maybe that’s an exaggeration. But it doesn’t make me any younger.”
I scan his biceps with an analytical eye. For a man who claims to live in spreadsheets, he’s awfully fit. “So how are we going to resolve this? Arm wrestle? Because if so, I demand a significant handicap.”