“Sure,” I said with a slight smile, taking a seat on the bench. He sat next to me and I let out a breath.
“I’m sorry I dumped all that on you,” he said, making me turn to look at him. “I learned a while ago that honesty is the best policy. There’s more I want to tell you, but I don’t think it needs to be said tonight.”
I blinked at his candid words, wondering why the idea of a dishonest man was always the go-to, when obviously there were men in the world who viewed the truth as a necessity instead of an agenda.
“We’ll have time for everything important,” I whispered, still looking in his eyes.
“I hope so,” he said, just as quietly. We sat on the bench for a while; the only thing heard was the splashing of the water and the rhythmic sounds of frogs croaking. The sun had set since we’d arrived, but the air was still warm and comfortable. Eventually, Devon spoke again.
“So, I’ve spilled all my beans for the evening. How about you?”
“Me?”
“Yeah, you,” he said, smiling again. Moonlight lit his face, making him all the more handsome. “What’s your story? I didn’t get much information out of you at Disney World.”
“Not a lot to tell,” I said, hoping he believed me. There were things to tell Devon about, things I would eventually have to tell anyone I seriously considered dating, but I didn’t want to drag us any further down than we already were. “I went to college for elementary education, married my college boyfriend soon after we graduated, started life together, realized life wasn’t always the fairy tale you were told to expect, then moved here as soon as the divorce was final.”
“Wow.” He sounded surprised.
“Wow?”
“I mean…,” he started, rubbing his hand along the back of his neck. “You’re so young. That’s a lot to go through at your age.”
“You’re too young to be a widower.”
“That’s the truth.”
“I’m sorry, I’m not trying to be rude.”
“No, no, you’re not. I’m sorry. You just look so young and I thought…. Wait, how old are you?”
“I’m twenty-seven. Old enough to be married and divorced. Actually, I was married at twenty-one, divorced at twenty-four, and a Floridian shortly thereafter.” The air was still between us and I heard the bouncing of a basketball from the courts at the other end of the park. I took another sip of my coffee and worked up the nerve to ask the question that was practically burning in my mouth. “Does it bother you that I’ve been divorced?”
I wasn’t brave enough to look at him, to try and read his face before he gave his answer.
“I think what bothers me most about it is that someone was stupid enough to let you go.”
I wanted to tell him everything in that moment, but the overwhelming urge to not ruin all I felt between us won out. There will be plenty of time to ruin it.
“Hey,” he said softly as his hand wrapped gently around the back of my neck, and my eyes slowly fluttered up to meet his gaze. “I’m not doing a great job of cheering you up, am I?”
I let out a small laugh. “Death and divorce are my top two favorite topics of conversation.” He laughed with me and I almost lost my breath as his thumb moved up and down the sensitive skin of my neck. His hold on me was gentle, yet firm, and I wasn’t complaining. It had been a long time since a man’s fingers had trailed over any part of me, and I both loved and hated how wonderful it felt.
“Shall we finish our lap around the pond?” His voice was soft and I got the impression that walking around the pond wasn’t actually what he wanted to do. I hadn’t been with many men, but I could tell when one wanted to kiss me. Devon’s eyes were dark, hooded, and darting down to my lips with every other loud thump of my heart. And even though kissing Devon seemed like a great distraction from all the bad, I knew if we were going to have a first kiss, I didn’t want it to be in the wake of the death and divorce speeches.
We made it back to Devon’s car, the rest of the walk uneventful but enjoyable; Devon made sure to keep the conversation light, telling me funny stories about Jax and Ruby. I had a few gems to tell him myself, what with my entire workweek full of eight-year-olds.
Just before he opened the door for me, he asked, “Can I take you out on a real date? Wednesday night, maybe? Dinner? A movie?”
“Sure,” I said, trying not to blush. “I’d like that.”
Chapter Eight Devon
I hastily pulled into a parking spot outside Grace’s apartment building and cringed when the car slammed into the sidewalk. I pushed open the door as I turned the car off, and walked as quickly as I could without looking like someone was chasing me. I found the door with her apartment number on it and knocked.
Grace opened the door with a beautiful smile and before she could do or say anything, I started apologizing.