Chapter 7
SEVEN
Blair
“What’s going on with you?” Larsen asks as I gather my things.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re smiling. All the time.”
“Is that a problem?”
“No, not at all. You deserve to be happy. It’s just… new.”
“I’ve been spending a lot of time with Cole,” I admit.
Larsen gasps. “I knew it! I told you he was into you!”
“Maybe,” I hedge.
“And you’re into him.”
“I…” I swallow hard, not knowing what to say.
“You should go for it. He obviously makes you happy,” she points out.
“Yeah.”
“Come on! What’s holding you back?”
“I just… have some trust issues.”
Larsen snorts, and I glare at her.
“Oh, sorry. I mean, what? You?” she gasps dramatically.
“Oh, shut up.”
She grins, and I swat at her arm.
“I know about the stuff with your family and classmates,” she says thoughtfully. “At least what you told me. I’m sorry you went through that, but you can trust Cole. He seems like a good guy.”
“Yeah, he is,” I agree. “But what if he’s not looking for anything serious? Maybe this is just a fling for him.”
“You think he’s spending hours building Winter Festival stuff, picking you up and driving you around, taking you out to eat, staring at you all the time because it’s a fling?”
“Well, when you put it like that…”
Larsen laughs as we grab our things and leave work.
“It’s still hard to take that leap,” I confess.
“He seems like he’d be worth it,” she whispers.
As soon as we step outside, I spot Cole. He’s leaning against his truck, patiently waiting for me. Seeing him there, with his flannel stretching across his broad chest and his jeans hugging his muscular thighs, has my insides fluttering.
I want him.
I want to trust him. I want to build something with him.
I’m falling for him, I realize. But can I take the leap?
When he steps toward me, a voice in my head screams, “Yes.”
“See you later,” Larsen says, heading to her car.
I wave, then turn back to Cole. “Hey.”
“Hey. How was your day?” he asks, taking my hand and leading me to his truck.
“Long. It was slow today.”
“Yeah, I bet. It seems like half the town has left to go see their families for the holidays.”
I nod as I climb into his truck.
He pauses. “You’re not leaving, are you?”
I shake my head. “I’m not close to my family. They couldn’t pay me to go back to Los Angeles.”
Cole studies me for a moment, nodding slowly as he closes the door.
“What about you?”
“I’m staying here too,” he replies, starting the truck and heading toward my place. “I went back to Montana a few weeks ago and saw everyone.”
“Where are we going tonight?” I ask as he parks outside my apartment.
“I made us a reservation at Palmer’s Steakhouse.”
“Sounds good. I just need to shower and change.”
“That’s fine. I’m going to the market. I’ll be back in half an hour.”
“Okay.”
He rounds the truck to open my door, and I take his hand as I hop out.
I hurry inside to shower and get ready. My heart is racing as I pick out a dress to wear and put on my makeup.
I’m slipping on a pair of heels when I hear a knock at the door.
I look through the peephole and smile when I see Cole standing there with a bouquet of flowers.
He stares at me when I open the door, drinking me in. “You look beautiful.”
Heat hits my cheeks. “Thanks.”
He hands me the flowers. “These are for you.”
“That’s so sweet of you. Thank you.”
“Of course.”
“Come in, and I’ll find a vase.”
Cole steps inside, and I go to the kitchen to find something to put the flowers in. Locating the only vase I own, I arrange the flowers in it.
“Ready to go?” he asks.
I nod, and he takes my hand as we leave my apartment. Can he feel how clammy my hand is? My heart races as I climb into his truck and buckle up.
“First date?” Cole asks me as he starts the truck.
I wince. “Is it that obvious?”
“I can tell you're nervous. I am too,” he admits.
“You?” I blurt.
He chuckles. “It’s my first date, too.”
“What? How?”
“Well, no one ever asked me out, and I never asked anyone else out,” he explains.
“But… why?”
“Why didn’t I ask anyone out?” he asks as he drives to the restaurant.
“Yeah.”
“I never wanted to.”
“Huh.”
“Growing up, people looked at me like I was a troublemaker because I was a foster kid. It took a while to shed that reputation, and by then, I was making plans for my future. When I was in the military, I was focused on other things, and then I moved here.”
“So, it was just a lack of time?”
“Time and desire. I was never interested in anyone. Not until I met you.”
My stomach feels like it’s full of butterflies. I take a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart as we pull into the restaurant parking lot.
“What about you? No one you ever wanted to go out with before?” Cole asks as we climb out of his truck.
“No. And even if there were, no one would have asked me out.”
“Idiots.”
“Have you been here before?” I ask, changing the subject.
“No, not yet. What about you?”
“No.”
We head in, and Cole talks to the hostess as I look around the place. It’s quiet and dimly lit. Twinkle lights and white tablecloths give it a romantic atmosphere.
I smile as Cole takes my hand and we follow the hostess over to our table.
“Your menus,” she says, handing them over with a flourish.
I tense as I take the menu.
“Thanks,” Cole says.
The hostess nods and returns to the front of the restaurant.
“So,” Cole says as I flip my menu open, “I looked at the menu online and I think you’ll like the filet mignon with mashed potatoes and the Caesar salad.
Or”—he grabs the back of my chair before I can react and drags it around so I’m sitting next to him—“I’ll read the menu to you, and we can decide what we want together. ”
“You don’t have to. What you said sounds good,” I say, falling a little more in love with him right then and there.
“No, we need to be strategic about this. Okay, let’s see… appetizers.”
I give him a soft smile as he reads the menu options, weighing the pros and cons of each dish.
“You don’t like mint, so that’s out,” he states.
I blink. “How do you know so much about me?”
His eyes lock with mine. “I’ve been paying attention.”
I swallow and nod.
“Okay, so the stuffed mushrooms and bacon-wrapped scallops to start. Let’s see about soups and salads.”
We continue like that through the entire menu. As Cole reads it to me, I don’t feel dumb or broken like my family told me. He doesn’t make me feel self-conscious when he reads to me. He makes it fun, like a conversation. He makes me feel normal.
When the server comes over, I let Cole order for us.
“Wine?” he asks.
“Sure.”
I pass him my menu and listen as he places our order. His arm drapes over my shoulder, and he plays with the ends of my hair as he talks. I wonder if he’s even aware of the movement.
Once the server is gone, I try to move my chair back, but Cole stops me. He grabs the silverware from my place setting and passes me my napkin, then sets my silverware out just the way I always do.
“You really have been watching me.”
“Yep.”
“Stalker,” I whisper.
He grins. “Tell me more about yourself.”
“Like what?”
“Whatever you want to share with me.”
“I went to cotillion school.”
“Seriously?”
I take a deep breath. “It was awful. They drilled all of this stuff into us.”
“Is that where the napkin and silverware etiquette comes in?” he asks, nodding at my lap.
“Probably. My parents were concerned with social standing and optics. They wanted us to be perfectly polite people.”
“How boring,” he drawls.
I laugh. “It was. Everyone acts the same. And the small talk is pointless and says nothing at all. I hated every minute of it. And I was terrible at it. My sister? Gold stars across the board. Me? I constantly compared to her and lacked in every category.”
“Every useless category,” he mumbles.
“It didn’t feel like it then,” I whisper.
Cole squeezes my shoulder. “Growing up is funny like that, huh? The way it changes your perspective.”
“Yeah. It’s been a blessing the last couple of years to look back and realize that not being good at small talk or dancing wasn’t the end of the world, like it seemed back then.”
“What else?”
I chew on my bottom lip. “I haven’t talked to my parents or siblings in over a year.”
“Do you miss them?”
“No. I just… I feel kind of bad that I don’t miss them. Not having to talk to them or listen to their judgments has been like a weight lifted off me. I wish they loved and cared for me for who I am, but I know they never will. Not in the way I want them to.”
“Have they reached out?”
“No.”
“Did you ever try to find your parents?” I ask.
“Yeah. They weren’t doing great.”
“Oh. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. My dad was in jail, and my mom, well, she was drunk both times I went to see her. I figured it was her natural state.”
“I shouldn’t have brought it up,” I apologize.
“It’s okay. Mary and Christopher raised me. They cared and loved me. I was lucky in that way.”
“Yeah,” I agree.
The server arrives, making a big show of opening the wine bottle and pouring some into Cole’s glass.
“She’ll taste it,” Coles says, tipping his head toward me.
I blink and grab the glass, sipping it slowly. “It’s perfect,” I tell the server.
He smiles as he pours us each a glass.
“You must know more about wine than I do,” Cole whispers.
“I doubt it. I rarely drink.”
“Me neither.”
We sit back, sipping our wine as we talk. All my nerves from earlier are long gone. Being with Cole feels so natural and right.
Our food arrives, and we share, laughing and rating which dishes we like best. By the time the bill comes, I’m stuffed and feel all warm and tingly.
“You know, we still need to get decorations,” Cole reminds me as we walk to his truck.
“For the booth?”
“And my place. You said you’d help.”
“Did I?” I ask as he opens my door.
“That’s how I remember it.”
“The stores are probably closing.”
“We have half an hour.”
“All right. Let’s go.”