Chapter 2 #2
Not that I’m in love with Dave. How could I be? I’ve known him for what? Fifteen minutes, if that?
This strange connection is probably a result of far too many months without sex.
Okay, it might have been more than a year, actually. Now that I’m thinking about it, I haven’t been with anyone since the January before last, back when I had that unfortunate date—
Nope. Forrest and his unhealthy obsession with video games have no place here.
Not that I have a problem with video games. But when the guy hurries through sex so he can go to a virtual raid with his online friends… That’s a whole different story.
Anyway. I’m not in love with Dave. Obviously. But I’m definitely attracted to him.
“So.” Dave coughs. Twin spots of pink tinge his cheeks, and it might be the cutest thing I’ve ever seen. “What happened outside? While you were following the couple?”
I press the towel-wrapped ice to my cheek, closing my eyes for a moment as the coolness soothes the throbbing bruise. It also serves as a good excuse not to answer right away, so I have a little more time to rearrange my out-of-control thoughts.
“I followed them to the parking lot behind the bar,” I finally answer. “And yes, I had my phone in my pocket, at least. Just in case I needed to call for help.”
“But?”
“They were halfway across the parking lot when he slapped her. And then… I don’t know what came over me. Now that I’m sitting here talking to you, I could rattle off all the smart, careful things I should have done. But once I saw him hit her, I just reacted.”
Large fingers wrap around mine, engulfing them in warmth. Belatedly, I realize my hand is trembling. “What happened, Hollis?”
“I ran towards them. And I yelled at him to stop. To leave her alone. And I might have called him some names that weren’t very nice.”
A tiny smile pulls at the corner of Dave’s lips. “I can think of some names I’d call him that wouldn’t be appropriate here.”
“When I yelled at him, he just looked… surprised at first. Then angry. But it was when I told the girl to go inside that he really lost it. That’s when he punched me. He knocked me down, actually. Then he took off.”
A low growl sounds in the back of Dave’s throat. “He knocked you down?”
“It was just the punch,” I explain. “I wasn’t expecting it. So I stumbled and fell.” Lowering the ice to the table, I add, “He left without her. His girlfriend, I discovered. The asshole.”
“Then what? Did you call the police?”
“We did. Well, my manager did. Once I got the girlfriend inside. But she wouldn’t press charges.
” Frustration bubbles up in my chest. “She wouldn’t even tell us what her boyfriend’s name was.
She didn’t want him to get into trouble.
So all the police could go on was my description and some fuzzy security footage from inside the bar. ”
“Shit,” he mutters. “So he’s still out there?”
“He’s banned from Maxwell’s,” I reply. “So I doubt I’ll see him again. But it’s frustrating that the girlfriend will probably go right back to him.”
Dave sighs. “Unfortunately, she might. I see it happen with some of the calls I respond to. And it sucks. Knowing these women are in trouble and no matter what I say, what the police say, they’re going to go right back to the person who’s hurting them.”
“Yeah.”
We both fall silent for a few seconds. But it’s not an uncomfortable silence—more of a thoughtful one. One heavy with unspoken words and hopes and possibilities.
At least, that’s what I’m thinking.
On an exhale, I finish the rest of my story. “Once the police left, my boss sent me home. But I was too antsy to just go back to my apartment and sit there, stewing. So I came here instead. And now…” I shrug. “Here we are.”
Dave lightly squeezes my hand. “Here we are.”
Through the clinging frustration and anger, a burst of joy emerges.
He’s still holding my hand.
And I like it. A lot.
Dave stares at me for a second, his expression contemplative. He starts to say something. Stops. Then starts again. “I know we just met. But…”
That cute flush rises in his cheeks again, adding a note of vulnerability to his expression.
“I’d really like to make sure you get home okay.
And this place doesn’t close for—” He glances at his watch.
“Another hour or so. Would you want to stay here with me until then? Just to get to know each other better? And then I could escort you home?”
My silly, hopeful heart flutters again. That sounds kind of like a date. Sort of.
“If you’re not sure,” he adds, “I could call a couple of my buddies to vouch for me. There’s Oliver, he’s a cop with the Sleepy Hollow police. Grant works at the fire station with me, and he’s a former SEAL. So he’s definitely trustworthy. If you want to look at my license—”
Before he can finish, I blurt, “No.”
His face falls. “Oh. Okay. Well. Maybe I could at least call you a taxi. An Uber. Something.”
“That’s not what I meant,” I hurry to add. “No, you don’t need to call your friends. I just have this feeling… I can trust you. And… I’d like to stay here with you. Talk. Maybe have some dessert. If you’re sure you have time.”
A smile brightens his features. “Oh. Good.” He picks up the forgotten ice pack and presses it gently to my cheek.
“And I have plenty of time. The conference I was attending—this fire and rescue conference at the Hilton—is basically over. I didn’t want to hang out at the hotel bar, so I came here. I can stay as long as you like.”
I grin at him. “That sounds really nice.”
“It does,” he agrees. Another silence falls, but this one is filled with hopeful promise.
Angling his chin at my mostly uneaten pizza, Dave says, “You should eat that before it’s totally cold. And I can ask the waitress for some dessert.”
“What about your food?” I ask. But when I glance over at his now-deserted table, his food is nowhere to be found. “Crap. The waitress took it. I’m sorry.”
“It’s fine. I had plenty.” His thumb strokes across the back of my hand. “Do you like tiramisu? Cannolis?”
“Tiramisu.” My stomach gives an eager rumble. “Please.”
“Sounds good.” Dave signals for the waitress again, then turns back to me. “So. You’re a bartender. I did that back in college. Do you like it? On the days when it’s normal, I mean.”
I swallow a bite of pizza before responding, “It’s okay. The tips are pretty good, and I like the people I work with. Most of the customers are nice. But I’m not planning to work at the bar forever.”
“What would you like to do?”
“I’d like to be a vet. That’s what I’m saving money for.
I got my bachelors six years ago, but the cost of veterinary school was just too much back then.
I didn’t want to end up thousands of dollars in debt before I even started my career.
So I decided to take some time to save up.
It’s been taking longer than I hoped, but someday… ”
“Hollis.” Dave gives me another of those sweet smiles. “You’ll get there. And I can tell already that you’ll be an amazing vet.”
There’s something in his eyes that makes my heart roll over. Through a constricting chest, I ask, “How do you know?”
“Because you’re brave. Determined. Kind. And you don’t hesitate to stand up for people in trouble. I’m sure you’ll do the same for the animals you’re caring for.”
Oh.
My.
Who is this man, and how has he not been snatched up by now?
Wait. Or has he? He’s giving off single vibes and I don’t see a ring. But what if I’m wrong?
“Are you single?” I ask before I can stop myself.
He doesn’t hesitate. “Yes. Very much so.”
Relief expands my chest. “Me too.”
We share another glance, this one loaded with emotion.
Then, of course, the waitress comes over to interrupt us again.
Once she’s gone, leaving two dishes of tiramisu behind, Dave asks, “So, since you love animals, do you have any pets? I’ve been thinking about getting a dog, but I’m not sure—”
The bell over the front door jangles, somehow jarring even in the dull hum of sound in the restaurant.
Unlike when I came inside, this time it seems almost… ominous. Threatening.
My attention jumps to the person coming through the door.
It’s a man. Tall. Lanky. He’s wearing worn jeans and a sweatshirt with the hood pulled up, disguising his face. One hand rests on the door handle, the other is shoved deep in his pants pocket.
As I look at the man, I notice an odd weight dragging down the fabric of his sweatshirt. A wallet? A phone? Or something else?
When I look back at Dave, he’s tense. Still. His eyes are glued to the newcomer, narrowing slightly as he inspects him.
The fizzy feeling in my chest falls flat.
Just like my gut knew the man at the bar was trouble, and it knew Dave was the opposite; I know something is wrong.
Could this be the man at the bar? I don’t think so, but I can’t see his face. This isn’t what he was wearing earlier, but if he went home and changed… It could be.
No. There’s no way it’s him. I’m just on edge after what happened earlier. This guy is probably harmless.
I’m sure he is. After all, what are the chances of—
“Don’t move!”
The voice is loud. Sharp. Angry.
Dave’s fingers tighten around mine. Not painfully, but protectively.
The man—the hooded stranger—yanks his other hand from his pocket and brandishes a gun. Then, even more terrifyingly, he cocks the trigger.
“Don’t fucking move!” he shouts. The barrel of the gun swings around in a semicircle, briefly pausing to point at each person in the dining room. “If you move, if you even think about reaching for a phone, I’ll shoot you.”
My pulse rockets to triple speed.
Perspiration prickles at the back of my neck.
“It’s okay,” Dave murmurs, just loud enough for me to hear him. “I’ll handle this.”
What?
He’s just a firefighter. And from what I can see, an unarmed one at that.
The armed stranger pins an angry look at Dave. “Don’t even think about it! If I see anyone reach for their phone, they’re dead!”
Once again, Dave squeezes my hand. His features are like stone. “I promise,” he says quietly, a calm determination lacing his tone, “It’s going to be okay.”