Chapter Five #2
“A piano bar?” Meadow asked from my side, and I slid my hand around hers, giving it a squeeze. Her eyes widened slightly, her mouth parting with a sharp intake of breath at my touch. I slid my thumb over her knuckles, her soft skin so tempting beneath mine.
I had gone to her house to pick her up like I’d promised, though I hadn’t gone inside. I noticed the double deadbolts and the fact that she seemed to be using them even during the day. I was happy about that. Considering what I knew of her past, it was a damn good idea.
Not that I wanted to think about that or how she could be in danger.
She was safe. She had to be. If she weren’t, something would have likely happened well before now.
But the fact that she was taking care of herself? Yeah, that was a damn good thing.
When she opened the door, though, I’d lost all thought, and had to take a minute to actually remember to breathe.
She looked so damn sexy.
My gaze moved over her now, and I couldn’t help but grin.
She wore tight, black leather leggings, and I only knew that they were leggings because Violet had a similar pair and had been talking about them at the bar with the girls.
I swore, sometimes, they forgot that I was one of the guys and didn’t need to hear about all of that.
But I didn’t mind. That just meant I knew that Meadow was wearing a pair now, and I could appreciate them.
She had on a top that went to her neck, so she wasn’t showing cleavage, but her shirt sort of piled on itself with fabric and looked like she had roses and flowers all over her chest.
She had on a linen jacket or some other type of fabric that I couldn’t name, and she looked sexy as hell in black and wine-red.
Even with the leather, she still dressed conservatively, and I liked it.
A far cry from the girl she’d once been. But I’d liked her then, too.
“A piano bar,” I said, bringing my thoughts back to the present, rather than the past.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting this on a date.”
I cringed. “Too much? We can go out to eat. Dillon didn’t sound too excited when I mentioned only dinner, so I changed my mind.”
A smile broke out on her face, and the light in her eyes danced a little.
“You asked Dillon for help?” she prodded, and I sighed.
“Yeah. Apparently, that kid knows how to help others when it comes to dating. He helped his brothers, and I was desperate.”
“Desperate?”
I had no idea what to think about that word. She hadn’t put any emotion into it, and I was worried.
“I, uh…” I trailed off then slid my hand through my hair and squeezed her hand with my other one.
“Okay. I’m really not good at this. I wanted to make sure this was fun for you and not stupid and boring, so I asked Dillon because, sometimes, he knows what he’s doing.
Or all the time. I’m not really sure how. The kid has magic or something.”
“Yeah, he does. I’m glad you asked him. It’s kind of nice. And the idea of a piano bar is great. I love music.”
“I know.”
She looked at me then and kept smiling, but there was something different in her eyes now. Something I couldn’t quite read.
“I don’t know how to play the piano,” she said softly.
“Oh. Well, you don’t need to know how to play to come here. I have a reservation for seven, though. We should get in.”
“That sounds great. This is nice, Beckham. Thanks for inviting me.”
“You’re welcome.” I let out a sigh and shook my head. Maybe I wasn’t completely terrible at this. I let go of her hand and brushed my thumb across her cheek. I watched her eyes darken, and I prayed I was doing the right thing.
“I hope you have fun tonight.”
“I have a feeling I will.”
“Good.”
“It’s lovely in here,” Meadow said, looking around the place as we sat in the corner near the dais. The bar had dark lighting, with a gorgeous piano in the corner where Sam, the resident player, sang and did his thing.
“I come here every so often. I like the people.”
“And it’s a little bit different than the bar you work at.”
“Yeah, that, too. I love the Connolly Brewery. I love what it is and what they stand for and the people. It’s a great place. But, sometimes, it’s fun to do something a little different.”
She looked at me then as if searching for something on my face. I hoped she found it. Though I had no idea what it could be. “I like that, too.”
“Hey, Beck, you going to play for us tonight?” Sam asked into the microphone, and everyone looked over. I could feel the tips of my ears turn red, and Meadow looked at me, her eyes wide.
“You play?” she asked, grinning. “Really?”
“A little.”
“What do you say? Ask your girl there. I’m sure she’d love you to play.”
“Beck! Beck!” The others weren’t screaming it, just a few regulars saying my name as others started to look over and smile.
Damnit. I hadn’t expected this.
“Maybe another time,” I grumbled, trying to sound nice.
This was a damn classy place, after all, and I was on a date. Maybe I had made the wrong move bringing Meadow here.
“You should play.”
“Not tonight.” I looked over at her, trying to show her what I was thinking. Not that I knew what that was exactly.
“I’d like to see you play sometime.”
“Maybe our next date.”
She raised a brow. “So we’re going on another date?” she asked.
I let my cocky side out because it was easier to be that guy than the one who had no idea what he was doing. I grinned and leaned back in the booth as I reached forward a bit to brush my fingertips along hers. She didn’t pull her hand away. I counted that as progress.
“Yeah, I’m pretty sure it’s already in the cards.”
“Like I said, I have no idea how you can get through life with that ego of yours.”
If she only knew.
“I do okay.”
“I’m sure.”
The waitress came, and we ordered our drinks, me a water with a whiskey neat. She got the same.
“You like whiskey?” I asked, and she smiled.
“Sometimes. I like to try everything. At least, when I was younger. I had to try everything. Almost all at once. Now, I like to do a little at a time.”
That was the first time she’d ever mentioned her life before now, before meeting me. And I wanted to count that as progress, too. Only I didn’t know if she would ever open up fully.
If she did, I would have to come clean as well. And I worried she wouldn’t forgive me.
“How did you start working for the Connollys?” she asked later as we were both sipping our whiskeys and waiting for our meals.
“I showed up one day. Saw a Help Wanted sign in the window and got the job.”
“That’s it?”
I shrugged, playing with the condensation on my glass. “Yeah. Just like that. I needed a job. They needed a bartender. And I’m the best.”
“Ego.”
I tilted my head, smirking at her a bit. “You like it.”
She paused and smiled. “Maybe.”
There. That was the spark. She didn’t always hide, there was a lick of fire within her that called to me.
One that showed the girl she had been. I knew neither of us was the person we had been before.
And that was fine. We didn’t need to be.
But that fire, that spark, that told me she was better than she was before. That she was okay.
And that’s all I needed to know. All I wanted.
“How did you start out in your job?”
“My job’s boring.”
“Not really.”
She raised a brow. “Sure. Whatever you say.”
“Okay, so I would suck at it, but you do it. And you look like you have fun doing it. Why call it boring?”
“Most people think it is. I know it’s not that boring.
Or at least it’s not to me. I got started in it because it was my favorite subject in school.
Science. All of the sciences. And when I was in community college and working full-time, one of my professors needed help with something, so I got another job helping him.
It didn’t pay much, but it was fun to learn all the ins and outs of writing a textbook.
One thing led to another, and suddenly, it was a career.
It’s not huge, and I’m not a multimillionaire or anything, but I do okay. ”
“Yeah, you do.”
She smiled then, and it reached her eyes. I felt like I was on top of the world. Like I had finally done something right.
We ate our dinners—steak and baked potatoes and crisp green beans for me, chicken in her case. It was nice to simply be and enjoy the music and the ambiance. It wasn’t something I did often.
This place was far removed from my life before.
There were no screaming people in the corner, no drugs, no one practically having sex on the bar.
There were no dangerous moves or the idea that you could die if you took the wrong step.
Not that we were always that dramatic, but sometimes, it felt like that.
There was no stepping on one another to make sure you were the best.
This was a place to…be.
And I liked who I was with.
When I took Meadow home, and we talked about nothing except for our friends and our jobs, I figured this was possibly the best first date I’d ever been on. The only real first date.
“This was nice,” she said, grinning. “Really nice.”
“You sound surprised,” I said, grinning a bit as we stood on her porch.
“Maybe. I didn’t know what this would be.”
“And what is this?” I asked, the words out of my mouth before I’d even fully thought them.
“I don’t know exactly.”
She went up on her tiptoes and kissed me square on the mouth.
My eyes widened, and I reached around, holding her close as I kissed her back.
She tasted of whiskey and our dinner. And Meadow. I wanted to kiss her harder, to push her against the door and have my way with her until we both came, but I knew that wasn’t the right move. It would be a horrible idea.
“Jesus,” I drawled, pulling myself back before I pushed her against the door and slid my hand down her pants like I wanted to. I was better than this. I had to be. She deserved more than a quick fuck against a door. She deserved everything. She had, even before, and she sure as hell did now.
“Thank you for dinner,” she whispered, licking her wet lips.
“Yeah. We need to do that again.”