Chapter 27 Sebastian
Sebastian
My facial hair was trimmed. Cologne spritzed lightly. I had on my best jeans and a plain black T-shirt. It wasn’t anything fancy, but if I was going to take Lydia on a date, I needed to at least make an effort.
I strolled into the living room to find Lydia lounging on the couch, watching TV.
“Are you done yet?” she sassed.
“Jesus. Can’t a guy spend a little time to get ready for a date?”
She looked at me with menacing green eyes. “It took you half an hour,” she deadpanned.
“Yeah, but I look good, right?” I reached down and took her hand, pulling her from the couch.
It wasn’t fair how good she looked with half the effort.
She had thrown together a pair of black leather shorts and a long-sleeve shirt made entirely of mesh.
It covered her tits under a black band of fabric but was otherwise completely see-through.
Her makeup was heavier than usual, but not like it was when she first got home.
She was stunning.
I liked every look on her—the punk rock vibe, daytime casual, fresh-faced and natural, she didn’t have the capacity to look anything less than beautiful. And apparently, that could be achieved in under twenty minutes.
“You look good enough to eat.” She snapped her teeth, heat swirling in her gaze.
The effect she had on me was immediate and visceral. My vision blurred from how fast my blood pooled in my groin.
I pushed my hand into her hair and pulled her to me for a hard and dirty kiss. My tongue demanded entry to her mouth. She met my urgency with a passion of her own.
“Don’t you worry, little wild,” I said, my lips brushing against hers. “I’ll fill this mouth of yours as soon as we’re home, on one condition.”
“Oh yeah, what’s that?” She raised her brows at me in challenge.
“You’re wearing this outfit when you’re on your knees for me.”
She pressed her lips into mine, and I suddenly reconsidered what I said approximately half a second ago, because I wanted nothing more than to rip her clothes off and start on the later part of the evening right now.
“I think I can make that happen.”
I growled into her mouth, then pulled myself away from her.
“Let’s go.”
The restaurant that I was taking her to was a bit outside of Calla Bay, following the coast to an ocean-view restaurant with an outdoor deck overlooking the marina.
I had made a reservation, considering it was a summer night by the water.
The place reeked of fine dining and money.
Lydia and I couldn’t look more out of place if we had shown up in costumes.
I gave my name at the front podium, and we followed the host to our table.
As he took us through the dining room, I reached my arm behind me.
Lydia threaded her fingers through mine, and a sense of pride swept over me instantly. She was mine.
The host brought us out the floor-to-ceiling accordion-style glass door and onto the crowded deck. Light blues music played from hidden speakers, accompanied by the soundtrack of lapping waves.
I pulled a chair out for Lydia, much to her amusement.
“Why, thank you,” she laughed. I pushed in her seat and took the one across from her. They sat us by the railing, which had the best views, just like I had requested.
“Have you ever been here?” I asked. I locked eyes with the woman at the table behind Lydia.
Her horrified expression transformed into pure fear before she dropped her eyes and focused on the plate in front of her.
We were just a couple out to dinner on a beautiful June night.
My ink and Lydia’s fashion didn’t say shit about the kind of people we were, but that woman’s judgmental gaze spoke volumes.
“No. This wasn’t exactly the type of establishment my father was taking his unruly kids to, and then I was in New York. What about you? Is this your go-to move when you try to impress a lady?”
My lips tugged up in a smirk. “I don’t generally have to try to impress them. It just comes naturally.”
She shot me an unimpressed look over the top of her menu, but I could see the smile trying to break free and the humor dancing in her gaze.
“But no,” I answered. “I’ve never been here. Not sure I’ve been missing out either.”
The server appeared at our table, holding a bottle of wine in front of a white towel draped over his arm.
“Sir, ma’am, welcome to the Captain’s Cove. Would you like to try our signature house red? It pairs well with our swordfish special.”
“Yeah, no. I’ll have a martini though, please,” Lydia said.
“Just a beer for me.”
He listed off a full menu of beer options before I selected one at random just to make him stop talking.
“This menu is ridiculous. And way too expensive, Seb.”
“It’s not too expensive. Things have never been this good at the shop, and summer is just getting started. It’ll be even busier over the next few months. I can treat my lady to a fancy dinner. Don’t you worry about that.”
She made a face, dropping her eyes to scan the menu again.
“What if your lady doesn’t want a fish head on her plate?
” Lydia asked, her face not even trying to mask her disgust as she read through the rest of the menu.
“Honestly, Seb, this all sounds terrible. I mean, if you want to stay, I’ll find something on the menu.
I’m sure their salads are fine.” She turned the menu over in her hands.
“Who adds buzz buttons to their salads?” she muttered under her breath.
“What are buzz buttons?” I asked.
“They’re these little edible flowers that make your mouth numb. I’ve had them in a drink before, and it’s kind of cool, but they don’t taste good.”
I pulled out my wallet and dropped enough cash onto the table to cover our drink orders, plus tip. It wasn’t the server’s fault this wasn’t the kind of place for us.
“Come on. We’ll find someplace else.”
“No. No. I can find something on the menu. We don’t need to leave. I lived in New York for over ten years. I’ve seen all kinds of weird gastronomy.”
I barked out a laugh. “I don’t want gastronomy. I want dinner. Let’s go.”
We made our way through the restaurant and out to my car, Lydia’s palm in mine again.
“I’ll let you pick the place this time. Where are we going?” I asked as I stepped up to the passenger side to open the door for her.
“Honestly? I think we should go to Downtown Diner, fill our faces with good home-cooked-style meals, then maybe grab a drink at Harpoons.”
“That’s not a date,” I chided. “That’s a regular Tuesday night. We can do better than that.”
“You asked me what I wanted. That’s what I want. I want to sit across from you over good food, get just shy of tipsy at the bar, and then go home and have my way with you. That’s what I want.”
I leaned into her, pressing her back against the side of the car. Her breath hitched, her chin tipping up to me. Daylight hadn’t quite sunk into dusk yet, the low sun casting her face in a golden hue, making her mossy green eyes shine bright.
The words I wanted to say to her bounced around my head.
Small words with big meanings. I hadn’t said those words to anyone since I was in high school and didn’t recognize the weight they carried until it was too late.
I broke Kerry Dimacio’s heart when we were seventeen, and she threw my words back at me in tears.
I felt like such an asshole—I was an asshole—and I never made that mistake again.
Telling those words to Lydia wouldn’t be a mistake. It was the goddamn truth of the matter, but I wasn’t sure if she was ready to hear them yet. I could wait a little longer. Give her more time so it didn’t feel rushed or premature.
I gripped her chin, holding her just where I wanted her, and looked deep into her eyes. When I slanted my mouth over hers, I poured every emotion, every feeling, into the kiss. I may not say the words yet, but she would know.
Lydia wrapped her arms low around my back and squeezed my ass.
I pulled back from her, kiss-drunk and a little dizzy. “Are you sure you don’t want to go straight home, fuck the food and drinks?”
Her smile was lethal in the way it stopped my heart. “Food, drink, then fuck,” she said. She slipped out of my arms and into the car. “Let’s go, Devereux. I want my date.”
“What my lady wants, my lady gets.” I shut her door and rounded the car.
Thirty minutes later, we pulled into the Downtown Diner’s parking lot. I looked Lydia up and down in her sexy date night outfit and then flitted my gaze to the old diner.
“Did you want to go home and change first?”
She looked down at her outfit, her hand covering her mostly bare belly. “No, why? Is this outfit a problem?” What would normally come out as a playful sass sounded guarded, maybe even fearful.
“Look at me, Lydia,” I commanded. Her eyes snapped to mine. I pulled her hand off her belly, interlocking our fingers. “I’m not him. You can wear whatever you want, whenever you want, wherever you want. I just wanted to make sure you were comfortable since we’re just at the diner.”
“I know. I’m sorry.”
“You don’t need to apologize. I need to make sure you know that though. I’m not some insecure frat boy. You’re stunning, Lydia, and you’re mine. That’s all I need.”
She leaned across the console and placed a light kiss to the corner of my mouth. “Thank you,” she whispered against my lips.
The diner wasn’t dead, but it wasn’t crowded either. I tipped my chin at the server, Elizabeth, and guided Lydia to one of the open booths in the back, my hand pressed lightly into the curve of her lower back.
The red vinyl seats, Formica tables, and the smell of comfort food hadn’t changed in the forty years this place had been open.
A family with four kids, all under the age of ten, were squeezed into the booth next to us.
The two older girls were arguing about some imaginary slight while the younger brother tried to broker the peace.
The littlest girl, sitting in a high chair at the end of the table, was smashing her potatoes into mush on her plastic tray.