Authors: Amanda Dick
Tags: #Romance, #Contemporary, #Romantic Suspense, #Sports, #Mystery & Suspense, #Suspense
“I’m fine, but thanks,” she said, managing a weak smile.
I had to admire her determination, but she wasn’t the least bit convincing.
“Nice try, but I’m serious. I can’t let you drive.”
The smile faded and she stared at me, her eyes searching deep inside mine. I felt the same sensation I’d felt the first time we met, except for one major difference. Whatever it was she was looking for, I found myself wanting to give it to her. It was a primal instinct, an urge that came not from my physical self, but from somewhere deeper, harder to reach. Somewhere I thought was inaccessible after so long.
I was in real trouble here. Like Maia, I felt like I’d just been dumped by a wave. Slightly breathless, elevated heart rate, body tingling with the last threads of an almighty adrenaline rush.
“Can you just sit here with me for a little while?” she asked.
The vulnerability oozed out of her. She’d just had a hell of a shock, been through an ordeal that had obviously terrified her, and she was asking me to stay with her. At that precise moment, wild horses couldn’t have dragged me away.
“Absolutely.”
I reached for her hand, giving it an encouraging squeeze. She was still trembling, but she didn’t object or withdraw. I shouldn’t be feeling this way. We’d known each other for a matter of days. I shouldn’t want to take her into my arms and soothe her. I shouldn’t want to kiss her. I shouldn’t want to know every single thing about her. Not yet, it was too soon – all of this was too soon.
It felt like we’d missed a step somewhere along the line. Like we’d skipped a few pages in the book, or scenes in the movie. It felt both wrong and right, simultaneously. I wanted to caution myself against getting too involved, yet at the same time, I wanted to scream that I didn’t care and dive in head-first regardless. My head swam.
A few minutes passed in silence. She had settled back in her seat and was staring out of the windscreen. Her hand felt comfortable in mine, familiar, easy. I wanted to sit here like this with her as long as she would let me.
Surreptitiously, I checked out her car. It was clean and tidy, which didn’t surprise me. Then, glancing over her shoulder, into the back seat, I saw something that did. There was a pile of clothes, neatly folded, on top of an unravelled sleeping bag, a pillow at the other end.
My brain was still processing that information when she spoke again.
“It’s not as bad as it looks.”
I looked up to find her watching me. “What do you mean?”
“I don’t think it’s a crime to sleep in your car, is it?”
“No, I don’t think so.”
She bowed her head, staring at our hands, laced together.
“Can I ask why?”
“I like it.”
I wasn’t buying it. The answers to all the questions I had were somewhere inside of her, and I wanted to pull them out – one by one, if I had to. But I could feel her shutting down, pushing me away again, so I backed off, just to be safe. I would need to be careful.
The heat in the car was stifling, with the sea breeze barely taking the edge off. I was already dry, the sand clinging to my legs from earlier. I spied her towel in the back seat and handed it to her.
“Here,” I said. “For your face.”
She slipped her hand out of mine and used the towel to carefully scrub the sand off her face. She missed a few spots, and I reached over to gently wipe away the grains from her cheek and the tip of her nose.
“How long have you been sleeping in the back seat?” I asked, as sensitively as I could.
She seemed to consider the idea for a moment, as if trying to figure out how to explain it. The towel dropped back into her lap.
“A while.”
She was mentally shoving me backwards, so I settled on something less intrusive. “So, tell me a bit about yourself. Where are you from, where did you grow up?”
She leant back against the head-rest and closed her eyes. “Oh, y’know. Around.”
I backed down immediately, afraid of pushing too far, of pushing her away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to do the whole Spanish Inquisition thing. I just realised that I don’t really know much about you, and you pretty much know everything about me.”
“Not everything,” she said, opening her eyes and turning to me. “You’ve still retained your air of mystery, don’t worry.”
Any delusions I’d had about reinventing myself went right out the window, as I realised what bullshit that was. It was only a matter of time. She could ask anyone here what my story was and they’d tell her. It wasn’t the fresh slate I’d hoped for, and my heart sank. I was the same sensible, pathetic loner I’d always been – maybe even more so now.
“Thank you,” she said, oblivious. “For staying with me. And sorry I freaked out on you like that.”
“No need for apologies, or thanks. It was the least I could do. I still think you should come back to my place for a while, though.”
“Thanks, but I’m okay, now – really. Look.” She held out both hands, palms down. “I’ve stopped shaking and everything. I’m hungry, so I must be okay.”
The words came out of nowhere. Maybe it was her smile, giving me the courage to reach. Maybe it was something else. One thing was for sure, I wasn’t prepared to spend another night tossing and turning, wondering whether I should’ve said something, berating myself for not having the guts.
“That’s definitely a good sign,” I said, before I lost my nerve. “I do feel kind of responsible for nearly drowning you out there, though. I’d like to make it up to you, if you’ll let me. Have dinner with me tonight?”
She began to object again, but I wasn’t having any of that. This was my Big Move. Now that I’d put myself out there, I wasn’t going to take no for an answer.
“I want you to be able to trust me,” I said, my heart pounding in my ears. “And I promise I won’t throw you to the sharks – so to speak – again. If you still want me to teach you to surf, that is? I mean, I really wouldn’t blame you if you changed your mind.”
She thought about it for a moment. “Yeah, I still want you to teach me.”
“Okay, good. So… dinner? My place, six o’clock?”
I held my breath. I felt like a teenager again. Jesus, a date? It’d been a while. Would I even remember what to do?
She hesitated, just for a moment. “Okay.”
“Excellent,” I exhaled finally, sure my relief was obvious. Smooth, dude. Real smooth. “Sure you’re okay to drive? It’s no problem.”
“I’m fine. But thank you.”
I felt physically lighter, like a weight had been lifted. “Well, I’ll see you later, then.”
“Okay.”
I made my way back to my truck. What was it about her that made everything seem fresh, new – possible, even? It was strange, because even though she looked a lot like Emily, she made me feel very different. Inexplicably, I felt as if I’d been given a second chance, and I was determined not to mess it up this time.
It wasn’t until I was driving back into town that I remembered she had left her clothes and shoes in the back of my truck.
I TRIED TO FIGURE OUT
just how long it’d been. Em had been gone for five years. We’d been together four years before that.
Nine years.
It’d been nine years since I’d been on a date with anyone apart from Em. It was a terrifying thought. Had I gone to too much trouble? Or maybe not enough? I didn’t want to scare her off, but I did want to make her feel special. After all, I didn’t do this every day. I wanted to show her that. I needed to go to just enough trouble that she would be impressed, but not too much that it would seem creepy or weird. This was every bit as nerve-wracking as I remembered.
A knock at the door forced my stomach up into my throat. This was it. Had I gotten it right? I could probably wing it a little, if it looked like I was freaking her out. I walked towards the front door, briefly re-checking my appearance in the mirror in the hall as I passed it. Clean boardies and t-shirt, freshly showered and shaved, nerves shot to hell. Check, check and check.
I opened the door smiling, determined to make this work, regardless. “Hi.”
She stood on the doorstep, smiling nervously back at me. “Hi.”
She was wearing a tight red t-shirt and cropped denim skinny jeans that showed off her ankles. Nice. Understated, but very nice. Her hands were clasped in front of her, like a waiting schoolgirl. She did that a lot. Clasped her hands either in front of her, or behind her, as if she didn’t know what to do with them. I liked it. It showed she wasn’t over-confident. It made me want to step up and be confident enough for the both of us.
“Come in,” I said, stepping aside.
She walked past me and stood in the hallway.
“You’re right on time,” I said, closing the door behind her.
“Punctual is my middle name.”
“Is it? Mine’s Gerald.”
Her smile grew genuine. “Nice.”
“What’s yours?”
“My what?”
“Your middle name. Come on, it can’t be that bad. I’ve told you mine.”
I folded my arms across my chest and leaned back against the door, waiting. I bet it was something pretty. One of those names you read about in books. Poppy, or Millicent or something just as proper. She looked proper.
“I don’t have one,” she shrugged.
“Really?”
“Really.”
“That surprises me,” I said, standing up straight and heading for the kitchen. “You don’t meet many people without a middle name these days.”
“I know,” she said, following me. “I’ve noticed that, too. So, what’s on the dinner menu?”
I disappeared into the kitchen, coming back a moment later with the pre-prepared cooler bag. “First, answer me this. Surprises – are you a fan?”
I crossed my fingers and held my breath.
She smiled. “Yes, as it happens – I am.”
Thank God. “Great. Then let’s go.”
We headed out to my truck and set off for town. I wanted to do this on the down-low. I didn’t want everyone staring at us tonight, and I was willing to bet money that that’s exactly what would’ve happened if we’d done this in public. I hadn’t been out on a date since Em disappeared, and she was new in town. We didn’t need the added pressure. I just wanted her to myself. No staring, no good-natured ribbing, just the two of us, getting to know each other a little better in private, away from prying eyes.
“Your stuff’s in the back, by the way,” I said, as we crossed the bridge into town. “I forgot to give it back to you at the beach earlier.”
She glanced over into the back seat to see her clothes, sunglasses and shoes sitting neatly where she had left them. “Thanks.”
“Are you feeling better?”
“I’m fine, thanks. So, this surprise – can you give me a clue, at least?”
I shot her a quick grin before turning my attention back to the road. “No harm in that, I suppose. I’ve ordered dinner from the Wharf Shed. The food’s great, but it’s usually pretty busy there, so I thought we’d pick it up and then go somewhere else to eat it. I’m going to take you to one of my favourite picnic spots instead. Sound alright?”
“Sounds great,” she said, smiling over at me.
She seemed much more relaxed than she had been at the beach earlier, which was a huge relief. Maybe I wouldn’t make a fool of myself tonight after all.
“You didn’t have to do this, y’know. I’m fine – what happened at the beach wasn’t your fault.”
“I’m glad you’re okay. And I know I didn’t have to, but I wanted to.”
She didn’t say anything and I wanted to be honest about my intentions. If she was at all uncomfortable about this, I’d rather know now. I had the feeling I’d need to prepare myself for the disappointment.
“Look,” I said. “I’m kinda rusty at this whole… thing. I haven’t done anything like this in a long time, so if I do or say anything stupid, I’d be really grateful if you’d just cut me some slack.”
She glanced over at me and I caught her eye for a moment, before I had to turn my attention back to the road.
“I will if you will,” she said quietly. “In case you were wondering, it’s been a while for me, too.”
I thought my heart was going to leap out of my chest. The combination of relief at having come clean, and anticipation as to what might come next, raced through me.
We drove through town and I turned off at the bottom end as we made our way along the road that skirted the harbour. She reached forward and touched the small dancing hula girl mounted on my dash. It was tacky, but I liked it.
“This is cool,” she said.
“That’s Leilani.”
“Leilani?”
“Vinnie named her. It was a birthday present a couple of years ago, from him and Jas.”
“Ah, I see.”
She smiled as the road narrowed, changing from a quiet suburban neighbourhood into a bustling harbour. Cars were parked on both sides of the road, and there was a trendy bar and restaurant on one side, already busy even though it was only just after six. A blackboard out the front announced ‘private function.’ We turned the corner, past the bar, to see lines of cars parked with empty boat trailers behind them. I drove past them and around the corner a little bit.
“I’ll be two minutes,” I said, unfastening my seatbelt. “I phoned the order through earlier, just have to pick it up.”
“Okay.”
I left her in the truck and made my way across the car park to the old wharf building. The nerves I’d been fighting so hard with began to make their presence felt. Not so much butterflies in my stomach, as a flock of birds inside my chest cavity. What the hell was I doing? I hadn’t been on a date in nine years, and here I was, arranging this elaborate evening for a woman I barely knew? I was turning myself inside out, and for what?