“Graham, you didn’t need to take that extra time.”
“I know. I did anyway. It looks good. And it’ll be safer for you and Lily to ride in. I’ll bring it by tomorrow before lunch.”
CHAPTER 14
GRAHAM
I should’ve said no. Why the fuck didn’t I say no? What the hell possessed me to tell Cindy I’d get lunch with her? I had no idea what to expect from something like this. Was it a friendly outing? Was this a romantic date? What was she looking for? I wasn’t ready for something like this. I hadn’t dated at all since my family was killed. And before that, Cary and I never really went on dates. We went out sometimes, but never on a date. She wasn’t that kind of woman. She would’ve rather stayed in and watched a movie with some popcorn than pay the money to go out to a movie theater and do the same thing. I couldn’t remember a time where I’d taken her to a restaurant for any reason, much less on a date.
Besides the night we got engaged.
I could remember that night like it was yesterday. The little black dress she had on and the pearls around her neck. The shock on her face when I got down on one knee in my suit.
I’d buried Cary in that dress and those pearls.
If someone was watching me, this could go down badly. If the wrong person saw me in a restaurant with her, they could spot me and automatically assume Cindy was leverage. I could destroy her world in a heartbeat and put her and her daughter on the run for their lives before they could blink their eyes.
I could bury them like I’d buried my wife and son. But it had been so long and no one had surfaced so far to take me out. Maybe they just assumed that I’d done it myself when I’d disappeared. Maybe they’d figured that if I hadn’t come after them by then, I wouldn’t. Still, I would never be able to stop looking over my shoulder. I’d been too highly trained not to.
Pushing those thoughts away, I readied myself for lunch, pulling on a decent enough pair of blue jeans and slipping into my good black shoes. I wore a simple black shirt to dress it down in case this was not what I was assuming it was and threw my light jacket over my shoulders.
Then, I slipped out to get Cindy’s car.
Even with the guilt swimming around in my chest, I found myself excited about lunch. I didn’t expect to be getting any sort of alone time with her, which meant I might get a glimpse of another side of her. Women always acted differently with their children around. At least, Cary had. I was ready to see this new side of Cindy that didn’t have to volley Lily’s energy and split her attention between cooking food and keeping her child from climbing the walls.
There was something about her that kept drawing me in, something I couldn’t deny. No matter how hard I pushed against it, it kept smacking me in the fucking face. Every time I tried to get her away from me, she came catapulting back even harder.
And that little girl of hers was growing on me quicker than I wanted to admit.
I stepped out of the cab and waved them off. I walked around back and picked up Cindy’s car, admiring how it glowed with a fresh coat of paint. I’d replaced the fender and repaired a lot of the rust damage. Some of the pipes were leaking, so that was an easy fix, and the busted taillight needed to be replaced altogether. I got her oil changed and checked her filters and topped off all her fluids. As far as the hunk of junk was concerned, it was two hundred times better than when I’d first brought it into the shop.
And all within a couple of days.
I hopped into the car and drove it back to her house. I pulled it up into her driveway and parked it, ready to watch her take it all in. I honked the horn, and she stepped out onto the porch, her jaw dropping at the sight of it.
“You painted it,” Cindy said.
“I did a lot more to it than that,” I said.
“How did you …?”
“The taillight’s fixed, and the fender was replaced. I got up underneath it and got rid of a lot of that rust damage. Some pipes needed fixing, and I did the regular maintenance on the car. You know, oil and fluids. Tire rotation. That sort of thing. Finally, I got it a fresh coat of paint and sealed it all in.”
“It doesn’t even look like the same car, Graham.”
“Good. Because that thing was a piece of shit.”
“I have no idea how I’m going to repay you for this,” she said.
“Pretty sure we got a lunch date happening in a few minutes. Consider it repaid,” I said.
“Trading car work for dates. That something you do often?”
“Only when the woman is as beautiful as you.”
It was out of my mouth before I even had time to think about it. Fuck. I looked down at Cindy, and I watched her eyes darken. Her cheeks flooded with a deep blush, and I wanted to reach out and touch it, to run my thumb along her heating skin and watch her shudder at my touch.
I escorted her to the truck, my hand in the small of her back. I wasn’t sure where all of this was coming from, but it felt very natural. I took her hand and helped her into my truck before I went around and got in, and it was weird to look over and see her there.
A small part of me still expected to look over and see Kason.
“Got a place in mind?” I asked
“I’ll tell you where to go,” Cindy said.
I didn’t know shit about this town. She could’ve told me we were going to some popular burger joint, and I still wouldn’t have known what she was talking about. The car ride was pretty silent, except for her giving directions. I didn’t try to force the conversation or pull her from whatever trance she was in.
But she was looking out the side window mighty hard.
We pulled into a place called Spork, and it looked like one of those millennial hipster places. But Cindy assured me the food was amazing. We walked in, took our seats, and placed our orders for what we wanted.
Then, Cindy finally broke the ice.
“I’m sorry. It’s been a long time since I’ve done something like this.”
“Don’t worry. Not like you're looking at the master of it,” I said.
“And here I thought I was sitting with an expert. Now what are we supposed to do?”
“Beats me,” I said. “I haven’t done this in a while either.”
She nodded, looking around the restaurant at other couples there eating and talking.
“Well, it looks like maybe we should be talking, getting to know one another or something like that?”
“Is that what you want from this?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not really sure what I want from this.”
“In my experience, men and women always look for something in a date. For most men, it’s physical. We’re animals. It happens. For women, it’s a connection. Good conversation and the promise of something more.”
“Is that what you’re looking for? Sex?”
“We really went from zero to one hundred here, didn’t we?” I asked, shifting in my seat, a mixture of discomfort and anticipation roiling in my gut.
“Yeah, we really did,” she said with a giggle. “Feel free to not answer that.”
“No. That’s not what I’m looking for.”
“Then, what are you looking for?”
“Nothing, really. You're the one who asked for the date.”
The banter with her was easy, and that was surprising. The longer we talked, the more rhythmic it became. Her sense of humor was refreshing, and she didn’t take herself too seriously. It came so easily for me to talk to her and go back and forth without missing a beat.
It felt so good, and I hated that it did because had this been a terrible experience, it would’ve been easier to push her away.
“Can I ask you a question?”
“Sure,” I said.
“Why are you so good with kids?” Cindy asked.
Our food was set in front of us, but I didn’t make a move to pick up my fork.
“I just don’t know many men without kids of their own who are so good with them is all,” she said.
“Because I wasn’t without kids once.”
Her eyes whipped up to me, dancing along my features.