Chapter 5 #2
“So, what drink do you recommend with Mack’s famous lasagna?” I ask. “I figure I might as well go for the full Icebox experience while I’m here.”
His dark caramel eyes meet mine over the table and not for the first time tonight, my heart skips a beat at the veiled intensity in his gaze. “Mack makes a mean root beer float if you’re up for it. Otherwise, he’s got some light beer on hand too.”
“I could go for a beer,” I say, bouncing a shoulder and trying to ignore the little flutter in my belly. “I mean… beer, lasagna, and a side of garlic bread sounds pretty good to me.”
His lips twitch. “You’re a bit of a surprise, Blair.” The way he says my name fascinates me, and I can’t stop watching his lips. He’s got a five o’clock shadow tonight that frames his mouth. It makes him look a little bit rugged… and yes, even more handsome.
“Don’t think I’ve ever been called that before. Driven, determined, laser-focused, married to my work, sure. Never a ‘surprise.’
“Yeah.” That’s all he says, but I can see there’s something working behind his eyes. Now I’m curious as to what he means by it. “Though they missed out beautiful, ambitious, and a little sassy too.”
I lift a brow his way. “Sassy?”
“Oh yeah. It’s there. You just pick and choose when to let it come out,” he muses.
A waitress appears in front of us, breaking the moment. “How can I help y’all today?”
“Hey, Joanie,” Sutton says with a friendly grin. “I’ll have a beer, some of Mack’s lasagna and a side of garlic bread.” He looks over the table at me. “I’ll let my guest make her order.”
“Just the same for me, thanks.”
“Sure thing, darlin’,” Joanie replies with a toothy smile.
“Beers’ll be out shortly,” she looks over her shoulder, “food’ll be a little bit longer since the dinner rush just started.
” I glance around the room to see we’re one of five groups dining in.
Dinner rush? “Let me know if you need anythin’ in the meantime,” she says before holding out her hands to grab the menus from us and leaving.
“So…” I say, breaking the comfortable silence that’s fallen between us.
“I have a confession,” he blurts out. I notice he’s spinning a thick silver ring on his index finger with his thumb.
“OK. What is it? Are you a secret owner of this place or somethin’?” I tease, wanting to lighten the mood, or even just see him smile.
He snorts, shaking his head. “Nope. That is a random guess though.”
“You seem like you’ve got something on your mind, so I figured I’d throw a crazy idea out there to see if it helped you relax again,” I say with a shrug.
Cocking his head, he studies me. “You’re very astute, you know that?”
“Isn’t that something all doctors have to be? Cool, calm, and collected in a crisis?”
“Very true,” he replies just as Joanie slides two beer bottles onto the table and disappears just as fast as she came.
“OK. I’ve had somethin’ on my mind all week and since we’re goin’ to be workin’ together and livin’ in close proximity as well, I figured honesty is the best policy.”
Color me intrigued. “I agree wholeheartedly.” I reach over and still his hand with the ring on it, static electricity snapping between us the moment we touch.
I press on. “I think everyone should be that way. A lot of people either don’t get the memo or choose to ignore it,” I say before sitting back and grabbing hold of my beer.
“But first, before we get all deep and meaningful, how about a toast for me surviving a week in Timber Falls and to Grumps for curbing his stealing ways? This is in no way me diminishing what you want to tell me, but I figure we should get it out of the way—the toast, I mean.”
His shoulders relax. He leans back into the booth, holding his bottle up to clink against mine. He smiles and this time it’s a genuine, semi-relaxed one, which is even better than any of the rare smiles I’ve seen from him so far. Big tick for me.
“OK, confess your sins, Sutton Cooper,” I say, leaning back against the booth again.
I can tell he’s prepping himself for whatever he’s about to tell me by the way he’s biting the corner of his bottom lip.
“Right. I guess there’s no other way to say it. I know you. From before, I mean.”
Now that isn’t what I expected him to say.
“From where before?”
“Boston University. Would’ve been about ten or so years ago,” he replies.
I frown. “Were you in one of my classes?” I know it’s been a decade, but there’s no way I wouldn’t have noticed him.
He has a presence that’s hard to ignore, even if I get the impression he doesn’t realize he does.
His good looks alone and the way he carries himself would’ve garnered more than enough female attention.
His dark hair that parts just to the side and falls slightly to the left, those mysterious, soulful eyes of his, and–let's be honest–I’d have to be blind not to have noticed his lean torso through the wet shirt in the Zen garden last weekend.
He’s so friendly and approachable. He wouldn’t have been one of the jocks who thought they were god’s gift to women back at college, more like one of those dependable, attentive types that contributed to discussions and asked questions when needed.
A guy everyone was friends with, and all the girls wished would be the focus of his attention.
He shakes his head. “I wasn’t even goin’ to medical school at that point. I was doin’ a dual arts and science degree.”
My brows furrow deeper. “OK. I’m confused. How did you know me then?”
He gulps down a mouthful of beer before lowering the bottle to the table and cradling it in his big, strong hands. “This is goin’ to sound creepy, but I promise you it’s not.”
I snort. “Sounds like something someone doing something creepy would say.”
“I have anxiety. I’ve had it pretty much since I was a teen. My grandfather–the one who left us the ranch–he was the first to realize. Anyway, it was fairly controlled to a point, but socially I was a bit awkward. Especially when it came to girls.”
My heartstrings pull tight. “You liked me?” I say softly.
His head jerks side to side. “I’d had to have known you to have liked you. But I was drawn to you.”
“So, a crush then?” I ask, tilting my head to study him.
Sutton shrugs. “Maybe.”
“But why? I blurt out. I’m both puzzled and flattered. I’ve never had a man tell me so openly that they felt a pull toward me. I’m in new territory here as much as he is in telling me about it.
He must see something in my expression because he sighs, tightening his grip on his drink. “This is comin’ out all wrong.”
“You’re doing fine, honestly. I’m just confused, that’s all,” I reply. “Did your anxiety have something to do with why you never talked to me?”
“Yep. I’d think about it and play it out in my head.”
Now I’m intrigued. “And how did that go?”
“I’d walk up and introduce myself and ask if you’d want to grab coffee or a drink sometime. I didn’t exactly have a lot of game back then. I may have thought out how it might play out but thinkin’ about it and actually doin’ are very different things.”
“They are. But most of the students I encountered in Boston weren’t the kind to see what they wanted–or who–and shoot their shot.”
The warm comforting sound of his laugh washes over me. “Well, we both know I didn’t try.” Why am I suddenly wishing he had?
My college years were all work and no play. Literally. I was focused on getting through Med School and that was all I had time for.
I think I went on my first proper date around age twenty-five.
That was with an intern who was very much in the mindset that he was going to be a surgery god and who thought I’d be perfect arm candy.
On our only date he stated before the mains were even on the table that it would be me who would give up my career to become a stay-at-home mom.
“When was this? When you first saw me, I mean?” I ask.
He rubs his hand over his stubbled jaw. “It was my last year so I would’ve been twenty-two, and I’ve just turned thirty-four.”
“I’m thirty-five so that means I would’ve been around twenty-three.” Then it hits me. “That would’ve been my last year in Boston. I transferred to Columbia after that.”
He huffs out a laugh. “That would explain why I came back after Summer with a plan to finally talk to you, but it didn’t happen because I never saw you again.”
“Wow. It sounds like a sliding doors moment of sorts, doesn’t it?”
He nods and it’s then that our meals arrive.
As we eat, I run his words over in my mind and wonder what might have happened if things had been different.
“You said you were studying arts and science,” I say in between mouthfuls. “When did you switch to psychology?”
He looks up and pins me with a stare. “About two days after I realized my anxiety held me back from doin’ somethin’ I really wanted to do and that I wanted to help others so that they didn’t miss out like I did.”
I still, his meaning sinking in. “Wait. I played a part in you changing careers?” He doesn’t answer me but his expression tells me I’m on the money. “Wow. That’s…”
“Creepy? Crazy? Unbelievable?”
“I was gonna say amazing,” I reply.
“Really?” He looks at me like I’ve just told him I believe in Big Foot. Which I do, but that’s neither here nor there…
“You took a personal experience that obviously shaped you and realized that you wouldn’t be the only one being held back and controlled by their mental health. Then you decided to use that as motivation to help others just like you. Yes, Sutton Cooper, that is amazing.”
His cheeks pink up a little and that just fascinates me even more. The more I get to know this man, the more I want to know.
“Can I ask you something?”
His mouth twitches up on the side. “Sure. I figure sharin’ dinner was all about gettin’ to know each other better.”
I snicker. “Yes, but this has the power to turn this thoroughly enjoyable dinner into something else entirely.”
Sutton cocks his head. “Well now you have to say it. Otherwise, I’ll start second-guessin’ and questionin’ everythin’ from the moment we left the hospital till now.”
“So basically, anxiety?” I deadpan, shooting him a wry grin and earning rolled eyes in return.
“OK. I’m ready,” He looks like he’s bracing himself for bad news when I can’t see this being anything other than good. Different and unexpected, sure. But no less invigorating–for me, at least. I want him to do it, and I want to be able to say yes.
I don’t even know why, it’s just a feeling. A voice inside me saying this needs to happen.
“Having met me now, do you still want to ask me out?”
I’ve never seen a man more shocked and speechless in my entire life, and that includes my father on the day I told him I was moving to Boston to study medicine.
“Um…,” he coughs, clearing his throat. “That was not what I expected you to say. I’ve been worried you’d be weirded out or somethin’.”
My head jerks. “Why? Twenty-ish-year old me caught your eye over ten years ago and without knowing me, you saw something that made you want to know me. Life, fate, whatever, got in our way and it didn’t happen.
I call that a missed chance and now that I’m here and you’re here, I’m taking that as the universe giving us a do over. ”
He watches me closely, a myriad of emotions crossing his features. “Just like that?”
I bounce a shoulder. “Why not? Apparently there’s a fresh outlook and new opportunities on my horizon so this is me embracing the moment,” I say, shooting him a wry grin.
“Besides, I’m a fan of coffee.” I hold up my beer.
“And you can see I don’t mind a drink.” He laughs at that.
“I’m just putting it out there. If you were interested in spending time together again–with or without a beverage–I’d be open to it. ”
“I’m startin’ to see that,” he replies, lips twitching. He even makes that look good.
“You saved my underwear too remember, and I like talking with you. I’m new to town and I’m guessing that although you’ve been here for six months, you probably haven’t had too much time to explore the place in between wrangling wild donkeys and renovating the ranch.
We could kill two birds with one stone and do it together. ”
“Play city tourists in the Alaskan wilderness and fix the regrets of my twenty-two-year-old self?”
I can’t stop smiling and there’s no denying that the flutter in my stomach is butterflies. Haven’t felt those in a long, long time.
“I'd like that. Friends reliving their youth while discovering god’s country together. How does that sound?”
We both go quiet but I still can’t stop feeling giddy. It’s almost like I’m a teenager again. “Blair?
I look up from my plate. “Yeah?”
He holds his hand out for mine over the top of the table. “I’m Sutton Cooper. I’ve been wantin’ to talk to you for a while now, and I was wonderin’ if you’d like to get to know each other better and go out sometime? Maybe next Sunday?” Can he be any sweeter?
My cheeks burn and my face hurts from how big my smile grows. Reaching over, I shake his hand and try to school my reaction when tingles not only spread over my palm but spread up my arm. The spike in my pulse has me wondering what the hell is going on too. Thump. Thump. Thump. “I’d like that.”
His tawny eyes sparkle in the diner’s bright fluorescent lights. “Me too,” he says.
I can see the change in him straight away. The last bit of tension he was holding on to has gone. Now he’s just a man enjoying a friendly dinner with a woman he used to like.
I was drawn to you. How can I resist that?
I’ve always believed that everything happens for a reason. Maybe me coming here and crossing paths with Sutton again was destined to be.
Looking over the table, I bat my lashes his way. “So, about that pie?”
“You still got room?”
I scoff. “One thing to know about me. There’s always room for dessert.” I lean in close and drop my voice to a whisper. “Besides, it’ll give us more time to talk about where we’re going next Sunday for our second chance at a first date.”
“It’s a date?” he croaks out.
“Is it not?” I ask and for a moment, I start second-guessing our whole conversation.
“No,” he says before shaking his head. “I mean, yes. It’s a date. I just didn’t know if you wanted it to be.”
I quirk a brow. “Did I not suggest you ask me out?” I thought I’d made myself pretty damn obvious… even for me…
“Well, yes. But–”
“And did I not accept your lovely invitation?”
His lips twitch, his eyes crinkling at the sides. “Yes.”
“Then yes, it’s a date.”
The slow-growing smile that transforms his whole face is mesmerizing.
And wouldn’t you know it, I give him one just as bright back.