Chapter 7
Marlowe
“Feels great to have someone else drive for a change.” Marlowe had been looking forward to dinner with Brad at Bella Vita. Even though she drove around the area constantly for work, showing lake houses and condos, she didn’t remember ever seeing this little restaurant tucked into the woods.
Brad only smiled. “I guess.” Maybe men liked being the drivers, the navigators.
The night was cool as they followed Boyne City Road along Lake Charlevoix. Thick woods crowded close to the roadside, and mailboxes perched like tiny sentries at lanes that disappeared into the darkness. Marlowe cracked open her window, letting pine-scented air sweep over her.
Brad glanced over with his smile that said he felt the same way.
“All the greenery up here is spectacular,” she said. “Naples didn’t have that. Just palm trees, and more palm trees.”
“I’ve been to Florida.”
She turned toward him, lifting a brow. The dashboard lights carved out his strong profile. Brad had a square chin and a straight nose, the features she never got to admire when they were running. “And…?”
“Florida wasn’t my thing,” he said. “Lots of sidewalks and tall buildings. Too much glare. Too much everything.” He slowed, turning into a gravel parking lot barely visible in the trees. “I know the place isn’t impressive from the outside but trust me. You’re going to love it.”
“The place is almost hidden.” They got out of the Jeep and she got a better look at the restaurant, which crouched low.
Its door was almost hidden. Soft black knit pants moved against her legs as she walked.
Her neckline dipped to show a gorgeous larimar necklace she’d found in a Petoskey jewelry store.
While they walked across the gravel, Marlowe felt Brad’s hand graze the small of her back.
The touch was brief, barely there, but she sure felt it.
He’d done that twice now, very casual. Maybe it was nothing.
Or was Brad finally letting her know how he felt about this “un-date” he’d nervously suggested?
The building looked dark, almost abandoned, half-hidden under heavy branches.
“Good thing I didn’t wear heels.” She lifted a foot to show off her wedge sandals. “This gravel would’ve ruined them.”
“I’d pick you up and carry you,” Brad said, like that was a given. A giddy warmth bloomed in her chest.
Inside, the restaurant looked comfortable but classy with white linens, amber lighting and a pleasant hum of conversation.
No sandy floors, no margarita signs. This was date territory.
A receptionist showed them to a table while Marlowe took it all in.
Brad pulled out her chair, and she gave him a grateful smile.
He had that old-school courtesy that men rarely remembered anymore and it reminded her of her dad years ago.
“What’s their specialty?” she asked after a waiter had brought menus.
“Definitely the walleye.”
Marlowe settled back. It had been so long since she’d done something like this and she wanted to fully enjoy it.
They both ordered the parmesan-crusted walleye, plus a glass of pinot grigio.
While they sipped, the soft glow from the table lamp lit the small vase of roses between them.
Couples murmured around the room, hands occasionally brushing across the linen.
This was the kind of place that in the past would make her feel left out. Single and too aware of being alone.
Tonight she didn’t feel that way.
“Tell me about the other senior facilities you own,” she asked as they waited for their food.
Brad relaxed, warming up as he talked about Tall Oaks, his employees, and his sister’s children––three-year-old Shaun and five-year-old Sarah. His face lit up as he talked about them.
“Did your sister and her husband grow up here?”.
“No. Nic and Trace met in college. She knew he was the one right away.”
Marlowe blinked. “Love at first sight? People actually do that?”
He grinned. “You don’t believe in it?”
“Not really.” But her mind drifted to Izzy and Skipper. Her baby sister practically floated in the clouds the summer they met. “Izzy and Skipper were pretty smitten when they met on the beach years ago. They got married right after she graduated from high school.”
“They were awfully young. Eighteen, didn’t you say?”
“Yes, too young. The marriage barely lasted a year.”
“There’s a lot to be said for maturity. Nicole and Trace were in their junior year of college. Knowing what you want helps,” Brad said, shrugging. “It keeps you from wasting time. You have to decide if this person fits into your family? Do they make sense with your life?”
Heat crept up her neck. What he described was so practical, but she’d never thought of dating like that.
She kept thinking about the family parties last summer.
Her reluctance to invite him now felt silly.
Thank goodness by the time Izzy’s wedding came, she had invited him.
She found herself wanting to meet his family.
They drifted into conversation about his parents. Recently recovering from knee surgery, his dad couldn’t stop fixing things around Brad’s house. His mom spent her time baking treats for Tall Oaks.
“And I heard that was your idea,” Marlowe said. “Wanting fresh cookies and bread so it smells like home.”
Brad rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s a small thing.”
“It’s thoughtful,” she said softly. “I’m sure the residents appreciate it.”
While they sat sipping their wine, a couple stopped at their table to thank Brad for taking such good care of their mother. Brad stood immediately, shaking hands and turning to introduce Marlowe.
“Wow,” she said after they left. “Do you have a fan club?”
“It’s a small town,” he said lightly. “Word gets around.”
“Still, I’m impressed.”
He blushed but she was serious.
For dessert they shared tiramisu with real whipped cream and sipped decaf. Neither one of them seemed to be in a hurry. Brad watched her over the rim of his cup, his eyes softening in a way that made her heart ache.
“You look really nice tonight,” he said.
“Meaning I don’t usually look nice?” She raised a teasing eyebrow.
He snorted. “No man’s going to complain about you wearing that running gear, Marlowe. Don’t pretend you don’t know that.”
She didn’t, actually. The warmth sweeping through her wasn’t from the wine and she curled her toes. “You’re not so bad yourself. Even though you dress like you’re allergic to anything fussy.”
“I like simple,” he said. “And you like comfortable.”
“Maybe we’re compatible,” she teased.
His eyes warmed, like he wanted to say yes.
She felt oddly reluctant to leave the close, warm space of Bella Vita. The night air hit them as they stepped outside. “The nights are so dark here,” she said as they drove away. “The woods seem to swallow the road.”
“We cut down our own tree every Christmas.”
“That sounds… adorable.” She nudged his arm. “You’re ruining your tough-guy image, you know.”
“Good,” he said, surprising her. “Maybe you’ll finally stop holding me at arm’s length.”
Before she could reply, a frantic shape appeared in their headlights, waving from the side of the road. Brad immediately slowed.
“Someone’s got trouble,” she said.
He pulled over and was out of the Jeep in seconds. Apparently the woman had a flat tire and a fussy baby in the backseat. Brad found the spare, hauled it out, jacked the car up and set to work. Cars drove past, some offering help. But Brad waved them away.
Marlowe watched him from the front seat.
Brad was steady, competent and patient. While he worked, the young mother soothed her baby.
The whole operation didn’t take long. As the woman drove away, Brad slid back into the Jeep, smelling like cold air and evergreens.
“You’re a good man, Brad Howington,” she said softly.
He gave a slight shake of his head, as if this was nothing.
At her house, the porch light cast a warm glow. Aunt Cate’s Mercedes and Sam’s SUV were parked outside.
“Just one light on,” Brad said. “Are your sister and aunt home?”
“Yes, probably up in their rooms, watching TV or reading,” she said as he opened her door and they trudged up the steps.
When they reached the front porch, he turned, slid his arms around her waist, and gently pulled her closer. “So… our first date.” His eyes sparkled with mischief. “How did it feel?”
“Okay, smarty pants,” she said, poking his chest. “It felt good.”
“So are we doing this again?” Playful, but there was something vulnerable in his voice.
“I think I could stand it,” she teased. “Nice restaurant. And fess up, now. Did you hire that woman to break down just so you could look heroic?”
“Ah, so you’re onto me,” he murmured. “I was hoping you wouldn’t catch that.”
Brad dipped his forehead to hers. His hair brushed her skin, his scent, woodsy and warm, wrapped around her. The kiss was soft, like a test. The second was more reassuring, more confident for both of them. Heat fluttered low in her belly.
“So…?” he murmured against her forehead. “What do you think?”
“Think about what?” she whispered, too dazed to form thoughts.
“The date. The kiss. Us.”
She licked her lips, tasting his coffee. “Right. Well. I guess I like both.”
“You guess?” She felt the rumble of his laughter in his chest. They said goodnight and she stepped inside. After she’d closed the front door, Marlowe collapsed against it. Thank goodness the living room was dark. No one was there to ask questions.
That night, Marlowe couldn’t fall asleep. The evening had been so easy. So promising. When had she enjoyed a comfortable date like this? Maybe never.
She found herself looking forward to the next one.