Chapter 22 Dolly #2
“Well, hi there, beautiful. You haven’t been texting me back, so I thought maybe you forgot about today.”
I stand up, setting my coffee mug on the porch railing as I walk down to where he is.
“Hi, Ben. What’s today? How did you know where the ranch was?”
He grins, pulling me close and leaning down toward my face. I turn to the side, alarm bells ringing in the back of my mind.
He did not just try to kiss me …
“We planned a breakfast date. We talked about it when we were out to dinner. And I just asked around at Old Harry’s. Two different people gave me directions.”
He hands me the flowers. It’s a bouquet of sunflowers, which I remember telling him was my favorite at some point. I can’t believe he remembered that.
My mind is scrambling to remember the conversation. All I kept thinking about was Sam sitting in the booth behind him. Heat creeps up my cheeks.
“Wow, I’m sorry. I’m not even dressed yet. I just woke up.”
He grins. His eyes are bright, and he’s certainly dressed up for a date with jeans, boots, and a button-down shirt. “I don’t care. You’re gorgeous either way. Come on. I’ll take you to get some pancakes.”
The people pleaser in me is having a hard time saying no. He drove all the way down here, brought my favorite flowers, and even styled his hair in a way I’ve never seen him do it. It reminds me of someone, but I can’t place who.
“Well, I mean, I guess. If you’re okay with me going like this? Or I could take ten minutes to—”
He shakes his head, grabbing my hand. “Nah, come on. Loretta’s Cafe is casual. You look perfect.”
I turn toward my dad. He seems to be engrossed in his own world, as usual.
“Let me just tell my dad so he doesn’t get confused.” I walk back up to the porch, leaning down to kiss Pops on the head. “I’m going to go to breakfast with Ben, okay? Can you let Holden or Rosie know when they come by? I might be back by then.”
He nods. “Sure, sugar. Have fun.”
“Do you want me to bring you some pancakes from Loretta’s?”
He shrugs. “Sure, I guess I’ll take some.”
I lean down and kiss him on the cheek. “Okay, bye. Love you.”
A pang of guilt stabs me in the stomach as I walk back to Ben’s truck. He’s smiling sweetly as he walks over to the passenger door to open it for me.
“Your truck is really nice.”
“She’s my pride and joy.” He shuts my door and walks around to the driver’s side.
“Sorry I’m underdressed and my hair is a mess.”
He climbs inside and places the flowers on the console between us. He puts on some rock music, which has to be my least favorite genre.
“Don’t be sorry. Loretta’s Café is the best in town, I’ve heard.”
I nod. “It’s really good.”
I realize after the first five minutes that I left my phone on the rocking chair on the front porch. I shut my eyes. I was caught up, running through all my conversations with Ropes to see similarities to Sam.
Aside from the fact that Sam ignores me half the time and stares at me for the rest of it, he and Ropes are extremely similar. Which makes sense as to how I could develop feelings for a man I’d never even seen a photo of his face.
This has to be a new level of pathetic childhood crush gone to the extreme. I need help. I need to call my therapist on Monday. And I need to stop leading on poor Ben.
He deserves to be on a date with someone who actually remembered it was happening. I should have told him back at the ranch, but now that we’re here, I’ll rip the Band-Aid off and be honest with him.
I have unresolved feelings for someone else. They’re not going away anytime soon, it would seem, and I don’t want to keep wasting his time.
He pulls into the café. I hope he didn’t try talking to me on the drive because my head has been lost in the clouds. He waits for me at the front of the truck, and I realize he’s not coming to open the door. I push it open and step out to join him, feeling naked without a phone or a purse.
His eyes rake over my chest as my nipples pucker in the cold. Again, the feeling that he looks familiar settles over me, but I shove it aside because I can’t place who it is that he looks like. He opens the door to the café, and we find a seat in a cracked leather booth.
A waitress approaches our table, smacking her gum. “Hey, honey. What can I get for you? Coffee, orange juice?”
“I’ll take a coffee, please.”
Ben nods. “Same here, coffee.”
I run my hands over my arms, shivering in the booth.
Ben leans forward, eyes intensely focused on me. “I want us to talk about taking things to the next level, Dolly. I think about you a lot. And I really want to make you mine, officially.”
My throat dries up as I stare at him. This can’t be happening. He can’t think we’re there, can he? I’ve been fantasizing about other men, and he wants me to commit to him?
“Will you be my girlfriend?” he continues.
My heart rate is skyrocketing, nearly beating out of my chest.
Of course, he doesn’t know that I’ve been fantasizing about other men …
A fresh, cold wave of guilt and embarrassment crashes over me. I blush deeply, and he mistakes it for a nervous response to his question.
“Hey, you think about it while we order. Take your time.”
I purse my lips. I don’t need time. I need to figure out what I’ve done to make him think we are here already.
Is this my fault? Have I been leading him on?
I thought we were just getting to know each other to see where it went. I’ve never actually had a boyfriend. Maybe this is how people do it. I thought we would at least get closer, maybe share a kiss or two before fully committing like this.
There is no spark. Zero. I thought maybe one would build, but it’s just not.
Oh God. I’ve totally been leading him on. My blush deepens, making me even more mortified about the situation.
He doesn’t deserve this. He shouldn’t be out on a date with a girl who literally forgot the date was happening until he showed up.
“Look, Ben, I—” I stammer.
The waitress shows up with our coffees and plops them down on the table. “You two ready to order?”
My stomach suddenly feels queasy, but I order a stack of pancakes to nibble on and take back to Pops. Ben orders the same but adds on some bacon and scrambled eggs.
“What were you saying, beautiful?” He’s stirring multiple spoonfuls of sugar into this mug.
With wooden movements, I start making my coffee with a little sugar and cream. “Um, look, Ben. I’ve had such a great time getting to know you over the past few weeks. You’re a really sweet guy, but I don’t think I’m there yet with you. I don’t … I don’t feel the same.”
I want to throw up. This conversation couldn’t be more uncomfortable. I wish I at least had a damn bra on or a hoodie, something to cover me. Ben’s face falls a little, but he maintains his smile.
“Look, I don’t need you to be in love with me or anything.
I just want us to keep getting comfortable with some more commitment, more intention.
If you don’t like the girlfriend label, we don’t have to use it.
I want this to keep going.” He reaches across the table to grab my clammy hand.
“I want more of this with you. More dates, more alone time.”
I try to pull my hand away, but his grip tightens.
A trickle of panic wells up in my chest. “I don’t really think that’s what I want.
I think you’re great, really. The flowers, the dates—it’s all so sweet.
It’s not you at all. I don’t …” I struggle to find the words, chewing on the inside of my lip and looking down at the Formica tabletop.
“I don’t have the same feelings toward you.
I think I have feelings—” My words trail off when I look up to see his face pale.
His eyes dart behind me. My throat dries up when a big, broody-looking cowboy stands at the edge of our table, caging me into the booth.
Sam looks like shit. Half of his face is bruised. His eyebrow is cut, cracked blood dried to the edge of it. He’s dressed in a clean heather gray T-shirt with a blue-and-white checkered flannel over it and distressed jeans, but my heart squeezes when I think about what could be under that T-shirt.
He looks exhausted and utterly pissed off. His jaw is set, but his ocean eyes aren’t focused on me. They’re lasered in on Ben’s pale, trembling frame. Ben doesn’t say a word. It feels like we’re repeating a ritual we’ve been through before.
Ben doesn’t dare glance my way again as he slowly slides out of the booth, steps around Sam’s rigid body, and practically sprints toward the exit.
My stomach tightens when Sam takes his place, turning his intense stare on me. He doesn’t speak. As if on cue, the waitress arrives with the food and sets my plate of steaming pancakes in front of me. She blinks at Sam for a few seconds before shrugging and setting the other plate in front of him.
“Can I get you a fresh cup of coffee, hon?”
He nods. She removes Ben’s cup and leaves us alone. He doesn’t move or speak until she returns with his fresh cup of steaming coffee.
“Thanks,” he says.
I shiver, my nipples somehow hardening even more. Sam’s eyes don’t stray down from my face, but he still pulls the flannel off his muscular shoulders and stands up to drape it across mine. His body heat envelops me, spreading through my limbs and drawing a faint, satisfied sigh from my lips.
I stick my arms through the sleeves and inhale his manly pine scent before letting myself meet his eyes again. His jaw tics.
“Eat, Baby Red.”