“ON A SCALE from happy to I can’t stop smiling excited, how thrilled would you be if I told you Mia packed an overnight bag for you?” Oliver asks, placing his fedora on the dashboard.
After dinner, we sat and talked about Wyatt and the house, mostly, and now that we’re back in the car driving, I’ve been kind of anxious. I really, really don’t want the date to end. We’ve been driving for quite a while, listening to music, talking about movies . . . so it isn’t until he asks me this question, that I realize that the only thing we haven’t talked about are what my plans are for tomorrow.
“Well . . .” I start, pausing to laugh. “I guess you’ve only given me choices I have to smile about so . . . really happy?”
He grins and looks my way. “Good, because it’s in the trunk, and I’m kidnapping you for the night. Maybe for the rest of the weekend.”
“You realize that you’re setting yourself up for failure on any future date, right?”
“Never doubt an overachiever,” he says, smiling as he pushes hair out of his eyes.
I laugh and resist the urge to lean in and run my hands through his hair. “Your hair grows so fast,” I say instead.
“Yeah, that’s the upside. Too bad I need to cut it short again soon. And shave.”
“For job interviews?” I guess.
“Yeah, I let them hire me before I let my hair grow again. Nobody wants to hire a doctor with a man bun.”
“It’s not even long enough for one yet, but I happen to know somebody who thinks doctors with man buns are hot.”
“Do you, now?” he says, flashing a grin my way.
“I’m sure I do.”
“Does her name start with an E?”
“Possibly.”
“Is she afraid of the dark?”
“No,” I grumble, and look away, making him laugh.
“Does she happen to hate my jokes?”
My lips tip up, but I keep looking out the window. “I can’t imagine anybody would like your jokes.”
“Oh, but they do.”
“Oliver,” I say, turning to him with a long-suffering sigh. “I’m sorry to break it to you, but they’re just pretending.”
He scoffs, giving me a bewildered look. “Pretending? Okay, I get it. You just haven’t heard my latest.”
I groan and laugh at the same time. “Let’s hear it.”
He waits until we’re stopped at a red light to lean in so that his chin is almost on my shoulder. For a moment, I forget how to breathe. Then he starts talking and drops his voice so low that everything inside of me zaps, and I can’t help but hold my breath. “If I were an enzyme,” he says, his lips, a soft tickle over my ear. “I’d be DNA helicase,” he continues, as he trails his lips over my neck. My eyes flutter shut, and I grip on to my knees. “So I could unzip your genes.”
I open my eyes as he pulls back, and my heart drops into the pit of my stomach at the hungry look in his eyes. When his gaze moves to my mouth, I can’t take any more. I lose all pretenses. I pull him to me and kiss him, frantically at first, then slowly, so that the kiss teases . . . tastes . . . our tongues barely touching. He pulls away and marvels at me for a moment before the sound of honking snaps us of out of the moment and he continues through the intersection.
“Not bad, huh?” he says after a beat. I’m still trying to regain my breath. I lick my lips and close my eyes at the taste of him.
“That wasn’t a joke. That was nerdy seduction,” I say in a breath. I can’t help but smile when he starts laughing.
“Nerdy seduction,” he says, still chuckling.
“Next question, are you still dating or hooking up or doing whatever you’re doing with Grace . . . or anybody else in the hospital . . . or elsewhere?”
I watch the side of his face as he frowns. When he stops behind a car, he shoots me a look. “I told you I wasn’t, Elle. Do you think I would insist on a date if I was seeing someone else?”
“I don’t know,” I shrug. “I’m not sure how you work in that department.”
He raises an eyebrow. “You know exactly how I work in that department.”
“So you’re not seeing anyone else right now?” I ask, ignoring his comment.
“Are you insinuating that we’re seeing each other?” he says.
“No. Why would you . . .”
“You said anyone else, which would mean that we’re seeing each other.”
“Well that’s not what I meant.”
He rounds the corner to a nice hotel on the water and pulls up in front of the valet. Oliver’s fingers paint over mine. “It’s what I want it to mean.”
My heart crashes in my chest as the valet guy opens the door for me. I make my feet move and step out of the car, just barely containing my composure. Oliver comes around with two bags in his hands, and I follow him inside. I look around, inhaling the aromas coming from the spa, and read that we’re in the Sonoma Coast. I can’t believe the car ride seemed so short—not that I’d ever been up here, but I’ve passed it plenty of times. This is the point where Vic and I usually start bickering, because the road trip is taking so long. I step aside as he goes up to the counter. I watch as he speaks to the lady, making her laugh at something he says, and then meet his eyes as he walks back to me. Oliver has always had this thing about him—this easiness that comes with him. He fits in with any group of people, because he embraces everybody with the way he is.
He carries himself with such confidence that you would think he owns the world. He’s the kind of guy who can participate in a conversation amongst important businessmen and doctors alike, and they would never question who he is. They would never suspect he was the guy who arrived in a beat-up car and worked two jobs so he could get it. He has a smile that’ll charm the pants off anybody if they’re not careful enough, and pairs that with a heart of gold. As he approaches and flashes that very smile at me, I feel myself melt.
“Ready?” he asks. I tuck my arm in his and nod, following him to the elevator. I realize that I haven’t asked him why he brought me to a hotel or what his plans are. Something happens to me when I’m around Oliver. It’s like the world vanishes around me. Everything can be falling apart, but in his arms, I’m whole.
When we reach the room, he puts our bags down beside the door and waits for me to explore. It’s a really big room, with a king-size bed, a bench by the window, and oversized, plush couches and a fireplace off to the side to make a living room. I walk over to the window and sit down on the cushioned bench, touching the cold glass with my hand. Oliver hasn’t said anything since we entered the room, and when I turn around, I find him propped up against the wall on the other side of the bed, with his legs crossed and his hands in the front pockets of his jeans. His fedora is slightly tilted down, and his hair is seeping out of it. What I can make out of his green eyes makes my stomach toss uncontrollably.
“Why are you standing all the way over there?” I ask with a nervous laugh.
“I’m kind of worried of what will happen if I step any closer,” he says. I inhale sharply.
“Maybe I want you to step closer.”
He shakes his head and bites back a smile. “I should have said this sooner, but I didn’t bring you here to take this further than, well, sleep.” I open my mouth to say something, but stop and wait for him to continue. “This is still part of our date. Tomorrow, the vineyards. We didn’t get to do that last time.”
I stand and walk over to him, stopping when we’re toe-to-toe, and tilt my head to look at him. I reach up, take the hat off his head, and toss it to the floor by the fireplace. “What if I want to take this further than just sleep?”
His face darkens. A slow smile appears over his face as he reaches for me and caresses my cheek softly. “I want to get it right this time, Elle. I don’t want to push you. I don’t want you to wake up tomorrow and regret something we do tonight.”
“I won’t,” I whisper, leaning into his touch.