Chapter 32
Chapter Thirty-Two
Brittany
“You look amazing,” Amy gushes as I step out in a pair of light-wash jeans and wedge sandals. My white blouse makes my skin look more sun-kissed than it really is, and being out here in the beachy weather makes that a total plus.
“Do you know where he’s taking me?” I can’t help but ask the question. Weston hasn’t given me any information, other than that I should be ready by seven.
“I’m not telling, even if I do,” Amy hums, her words turning into a little tune.
She leads the way down the hallway and stairs, where Parker and Weston are sitting on the couch.
Buddy peeks up at us from his bed, but doesn’t move otherwise.
The poor guy is exhausted from all the frisbee playing we’ve done over the weekend.
And we’re wrapping it up with this date.
I breathe out a sigh as Wes looks up, his eyes catching mine and expression shifting to pure awe. No one has ever looked at me like that before.
It’s butterfly inducing.
“Hey, I think you dropped your jaw on the floor.” Parker snorts. “You might want to get that checked out.”
“Ha ha.” Weston never looks away from me and stands to his feet as I make it to the ground level. “You look incredible,” he says, his voice low as he extends a hand for me to take.
“Aw…” Amy coos from behind me. “This is literally the cutest thing I’ve seen all weekend.”
“Okay, well, you two have fun,” Parker quips, shooing us out the door with his hands. “I don’t want Amy to keep going on about how cute my best friend and little sister look together. It kind of gives me the ick.” Despite his words, there’s a ghost of a smile on his face.
And that’s enough for me.
“Thank you,” I tell him, grabbing his arm and pulling him into a hug. He seems startled by it at first, but then leans in.
“Have fun, Brit. You deserve it.”
I pull away, giving him one last smile before stepping out with Wes. He leads the way to the car, opening up the passenger door for me.
“Look at you, being a total gentleman.” I giggle.
“Well, just because I live in New York City doesn’t mean I don’t have manners.” He winks at me, then closes the door, jogging around to the driver’s side. I take in the sight of him in a pair of jeans and a dress shirt rolled up to his elbows. Women would be crazy not to drool over him.
But lucky for me, I’m the one on the date.
I feel like I’ve won the lottery as we make our way out of town, and fifteen minutes later, we’re pulling into one of the nicest wineries in New York. However, the place is seemingly … empty.
“I think they might be closed,” I say, turning to him.
He chuckles, a hint of mischief in his eyes. “Nah, I don’t think so.” He pushes open the door, then comes around to open mine as well. I take his extended hand, and he intertwines his fingers with mine, not letting go of me as we head toward the winery.
“This place is beautiful,” I comment, taking in a deep breath and the scent of crisp air, tinged with something that reminds me of food.
“I’m glad you’re happy with it so far.” Weston gives my hand a light squeeze as we make our way up the steps. As we reach the front door, it opens, the hostess greeting us with a smile.
“Mr. Shaw.” She gives him a nod. “We have your table ready.”
“Perfect.” He gives her a cool smile, and I start to feel more and more giddy as we’re led inside the upscale winery and restaurant.
The hostess leads us through to the back patio, where a two-person table sitting along the stone wall is decked out to the max—complete with red roses, candles, and petals scattered about.
I swallow the emotions building in my throat. “This is incredible.”
Weston just smiles, pulling out my chair for me to take a seat.
“My lady,” he says in a goofy voice, gesturing for me to sit down.
“You know,” he continues as he takes a seat across from me, “today is National Fried Chicken Day, and I almost went that direction, but … that seemed like a good way for you to never want to go out with me again.”
I giggle, shaking my head. “That’s not the only holiday that’s today.”
“Oh?” He arches a brow at me as a waiter sets down two glasses of water. “What else is happening?”
“International Kissing Day,” I say, feeling the heat grow in my cheeks. “I think we can celebrate that one.”
He nearly chokes on his water. “Absolutely. I’m good for the celebration of that day. Way better than fried chicken.”
“Some might disagree with that.” I giggle. “Some people really love fried chicken. I mean, it’s like the American thing to eat.”
“Is it?” Weston chuckles, shaking his head at me. “Maybe we should see if they’ll make us some fried chicken for the occasion instead of the steaks I already ordered.”
“I think I’ll just stick to the steak,” I say.
“Darn.” He chuckles. “I was really hoping we might make this a full-blown day of fried chicken.”
“And making out,” I add. “You know, for the holiday celebration.”
“Most definitely.”
We both laugh as the evening continues, dinner and wine being served in a way that’s personal, making the evening that much more incredible. By the time we finish our cheesecake, the sun starts to set over the horizon, and Weston quietly pays the tab.
And that’s when rain drops start to fall.
He glances up at the sky, and then over at me. “Looks like we might catch a rain shower.”
“I’ll melt,” I say jokingly.
“Me too,” he says, grinning. He stands to his feet and takes my hand. “Let’s go then. I don’t want you to turn into a puddle. That might make Parker angry.”
I laugh as more rain drops start to fall from the sky, and we break into a jog, Weston tugging me forward. The rain keeps coming down harder as we get closer to the car, and by the time we’re just a few feet away, it’s pouring.
“Wait!” Weston shouts over the noise of the thunder above us. “It’s International Kissing Day!”
I let out a squeal as he slips his arm around my waist and spins my body in a swift, smooth movement. My backside hits the car gently, and before I can even process what’s happening, Weston’s mouth is on mine.
We’re pulling a full Notebook moment as his tongue slips between my parted lips.
Rain droplets streak down my face, slipping between our lips and tinging our kiss with the taste of fresh rain.
He grips the back of my neck, holding me to him, his body pressing into mine.
A light moan escapes from my throat as he explores every inch of my mouth.
It’s possessive, but also sweet, drenched in passion and warmth.
We’re soaked by the time we pull apart, and as I peer up at Weston, I take in his sharp jawline, and the way he’s looking right into me. Like he sees me—all of me—and my heart skips a beat.
“Thank you for this amazing date,” I tell him, my voice barely audible above the rain hitting the top of the car.
His fingers brush away the raindrops littering my cheeks, and his expression softens. “You’re beautiful, Brittany. Thank you for giving me a chance.”
I stand on my tiptoes and press another short kiss against his lips. “It was the best date I’ve ever had. Do you think we could do this again?”
He tilts his head. “Well … Actually … I don’t know. I only feel comfortable moving forward under one condition.”
I narrow my eyes at him, unsure of where this is going. “Okay, what’s your condition?”
“That you’ll be my girlfriend, and that we can celebrate International Kissing Day every day.”
“Hmm…” I purse my lips together as the rain lightens to just sprinkles. “First off, that’s two conditions. So, there’s that. Secondly…” I press another kiss to his cheek, and then lean into his ear. “Yes, I’ll be your girlfriend. And yes, we can celebrate International Kissing Day every day.”
“Good. I’ll hold you to that,” he teases, pressing his lips to mine once more. “And I promise, Brittany, I’ll never let you go.”
I wrap my arms around him and squeeze him as a burst of relief floods my chest. For the first time in my life, I believe it.
And I think this is what the beginning of forever feels like.