Wrong Number: A Forbidden Love Age-Gap Romance

by Iris Trovao

  The server cocked her head in thought for a moment. “The honey duck.” She leaned in conspiratorially, and lowered her voice. “This isn’t on the menu, but sometimes during off-hours staff parties, the chef makes deep-fried cheese curds with sweet chili sauce.”

  Jolie’s eyes widened. “Okay. That sounds amazing. I’ll need both of those things.”

  “I’ll see if I can sweet-talk him into it,” Elle replied with a wink, and turned to Carson, who was buried in his menu. “And for you, sir?”

  “I will have the scallops with a roasted beet salad, please.” He held out the menu to her, and she collected both of them, winking before gliding away from them.

  Jolie used her straw to scoop up a glob of whipped cream covered in chocolate sauce. “I’ll trade you a deep-fried cheese curd for a scallop.”

  He chuckled. “You say you hate people, but you’re very good at charming them.”

  The butterflies in her stomach were back in full force as he wrapped his lips around his straw, and a flush crept up her neck. “Oh?” she asked, trying to force her voice to sound level. “Did I charm you?”

  He didn’t answer right away, taking a deep swallow of his milkshake. She didn’t know if he was stalling because he was nervous, or just trying to be a tease. She couldn’t take her eyes off of his mouth, those lips that looked so satiny soft…

  Keep yourself together, Jo, fuck, she mentally berated herself.

  “You charmed me a long time ago,” he finally said, his voice a little low, a little rough. She let it wash over her, revelling in it.

  She glanced down at the intense amount of utensils on either side of her place setting, and picked up a tiny spoon the length of her pinky finger. “And now?” she asked as she used the spoon to scoop up a heap of whipped cream. “Am I still charming even while acting like an animal in a fancy restaurant?”

  He gazed at her with such affection in his soft eyes that her chest constricted.

  “Even more so,” he said.

  Her heart rate tripled, and she leaned forward to busy herself sipping from her milkshake. She moaned as the velvety chocolate hit her tongue. “Ohmygod this is like an orgasm in my mouth,” she mumbled around the straw, and fought a smirk as he blushed again.

  You are too easy to embarrass, doc, she thought.

  Elle returned with salad and cheese curds and the mingling scents of fried batter and roasted beets made Jolie’s stomach growl.

  “Enjoy,” the server said before disappearing once again.

  “Okay there are way more of these than I thought,” Jolie declared. “You’re gonna have to help me eat them so I still have room for duck.”

  Carson chuckled. “They smell amazing.”

  She pushed back her chair and picked up the plate and her milkshake, moving around to his side of the table. He didn’t say anything, simply chewed a mouthful of greens and goat cheese, watching her grab a fork and her chair and drag it next to his.

  The table wasn’t huge, but Jolie felt like she was too far away from him sitting across. They’d been so far away for so long, texting across the void, that now even two meters seemed like too much distance.

  He raised an eyebrow as she plopped herself down beside him, and she shrugged.

  “What? You’re the one who said I’m charming,” she teased as she dunked a deep-fried curd into the orangey sauce on the side of her plate, smiling at him before shoving the whole thing into her mouth.

  Instead of replying, he ate another forkful of salad. She motioned to her plate as the flavours exploded on her tongue, honey and chili and salty all at once, swirling around the melted cheese within.

  “Eat one of these,” she insisted after swallowing.

  He stabbed one with his fork and dunked it in the sauce before taking a bite. He made an mmmm sound, low in his throat, as he chewed, and Jolie fought the urge to fan herself.

  It was as if the noise rumbled within her, sending her nerve endings singing, and her body temperature rose a hundred degrees.

  “Am I making you break some doctor code, eating all this sugar and cholesterol?” she teased as she picked up another delicious ball with her fingers and swiped it through the sauce.

  He chuckled, shaking his head. “Everything is okay in moderation.”

  “Ah, moderation,” she drawled. “My nemesis.” As if to accentuate her point, she took a long slurp of her milkshake.

  He speared a beet and held out his fork to her. “Vegetables in between grease and sugar.”

  He held it upright, as if he wanted her to take the utensil from him, but Jolie acted on pure instinct, leaning over and taking the slice into her mouth.

  Chapter Thirty-Eight

  Carson’s breath completely left him as he watched Jolie eat from his fork. He’d held it out to her, thinking she would just take the utensil. Instead, she had wrapped her luscious lips around the beet and pulled it off.

  He had no idea if she knew what she was doing—if she realized how much she was affecting him. They hadn’t talked about their expectations for this date, beyond excitement to finally see each other.

  Nerves tightened in his belly, and he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her mouth.

  “That’s really good.” She smacked her lips together. “Always thought I didn't like beets. This chef knows what he’s doing, apparently.”

  Carson blinked at her, finally able to break his staring, and reached for his milkshake. He took a gulp of the soft silky chocolate, still in disbelief that Jolie had managed to order not one, but two things that weren’t on the menu.

  She’s just so cute, he thought, as she picked up another cheese ball between her fingers and popped it into her mouth. A glob of sweet chili sauce caught on the edge of her mouth and she laughed through the cheese, wiping it away with her forefinger and licking it clean.

  “How does it feel having dinner with a caveman?” she asked, waggling her eyebrows playfully.

  He wanted to say so many things. He wanted to tell her that she was a beautiful caveman. He wanted to tell her that there was nowhere else he’d rather be. He wanted to tell her that he didn’t ever want the evening to end.

  But those damn nerves.

  Instead he said, “You’re quite charming for a caveman, managing to weasel the secret menu out of our server.”

  Jolie drew in a dramatic gasp. “Maybe she’s into me.” She held up a finger. “But probably, the whole thing about the chef’s special secret appetizer could just be a gimmick for a good tip.”

  He laughed. “Do you think someone would go that far for a tip?”

  “Oh honey,” she said, shaking her head, “the lengths us service industry people will go to get tips would horrify you.” She chewed another cheese curd thoughtfully, and cocked her head. “Or maybe not, considering you’ve probably seen some awful shit in the ER.”

  Carson nodded. “There is not much that could terrify me, I don’t think.” As soon as the words left his mouth, he knew he’d made a mistake when a wicked gleam shone in her eyes.

  “Really?” She raised an eyebrow. “You don’t have any totally weird unreasonable phobias?”

  Instead of answering, he shoved another forkful of salad into his mouth.

  “Okay there’s gotta be something if that’s how you’re going to avoid the question.” She leaned in and put a delicate hand to her chest. “You can tell me. I promise I won’t tell anyone.”

  That subtle jasmine scent permeated his nostrils again, and he fought the urge to move closer to her, breathe her in.

  “I’ll tell you mine,” she said in a low voice, the words rolling off of her tongue like silk. “Do you wanna know?”

  He raised a hand to his mouth, still chewing, and nodded.

  She looked around as if to make sure nobody was listening in, then whispered, “Canada geese.”

  Carson pressed his lips into a thin line and swallowed a smile. “I wouldn’t say that’s wholly unreasonable. They can be quite territorial.”

  �
�Territorial?” She sat up straight. “They’re fucking monsters! They travel in packs and straight-up attack people. They’re vicious.”

  This time he couldn’t hold back the smile, and she huffed.

  “Your turn, doc,” she said as she picked up another cheese curd and pointed at him with it. “Spill.”

  He shook his head. “I don’t have any fears outside of the normal ones, I suppose. Mostly just worrying about my kids.”

  “Ah, that makes sense.” She nodded thoughtfully. “I guess when you have kids your perspective changes, huh? Though if you’re worried about them you should keep them away from geese.” She shuddered.

  Elle approached them, stopping for a beat to blink in confusion, likely at the new seating arrangement. She recovered quickly, skirting the table to set down their meals.

  “How is everything?” she asked.

  “These are amazing,” Jolie replied through a mouthful of cheese, giving the server a thumbs up. “Compliments to the chef, and to you for the recommendation.”

  “My pleasure,” Elle replied, clasping her hands in front of her and heading off.

  “She’s totally into me,” Jolie whispered, and Carson nearly spit his mouthful of salad as a laugh burst from his throat.

  They moved on to their main course, swapping some duck for scallops so they could sample both dishes.

  “Ugh these are so good,” Jolie moaned after swallowing a bite of tender seafood. “I went out to the east coast a few years back with Alicia and we ate scallops every day.”

  Carson cocked his head. “I’ve always wanted to go out there. Been all over the country from Quebec to BC but never east or north.”

  “It’s super chill,” she said wistfully. “Like everything is in slow motion. Nobody’s in a hurry. And the beer!” She pressed her fingers together and kissed them in a ‘chef’s kiss’ motion.

  He laughed. “Sounds relaxing. What sent you out that way?”

  “My parents live on Cape Breton,” she said, and her demeanour instantly dropped. “I, um, went out to visit. And then didn’t end up even visiting them.” She chuckled under her breath, but it sounded more like a nervous cough.

  Carson wasn't sure where to tread from there. They’d been talking almost an entire year and she’d never mentioned her parents. He wanted to ask questions, but he also didn’t want to sully the cheerfulness she’d had the entire evening.

  They’d never had issues talking about difficult subjects, but he wasn’t sure that this was the right time. He took a deep breath.

  “If you want to talk about it, you’re welcome to,” he said gently. “But I won’t push you if you don’t.”

  She smiled then, and it was a real one. It wasn’t big, it wasn’t full of joy or glee, just genuine appreciation.

  His heart skipped a beat. She was so beautiful that it was almost painful to look at her.

  “We just don’t get along,” she said simply. “But that is a story for another day.”

  He nodded. “Understood.” He speared another scallop with his fork. “So. What’s your favourite colour?”

  “Teal,” she declared. “You?”

  “Grey.”

  “Boring,” she teased.

  He shrugged. “Do you think I’d look good in a teal suit?”

  “Okay, that would be the best thing ever.” She raised her hands, palms out. “Yes please.”

  He laughed, shaking his head. “I can’t even think of one place that would sell those.”

  “You’d have to get it made, probably.” She took a sip of her milkshake and side-glanced him. “If anyone could rock it, it would be you.”

  These damn nerves, he thought as heat crept up his cheeks once again. “I’m not so sure about that.”

  “I am.” She reached over and poked him in the side with her finger, giggling as he flinched away. “Are you ticklish?”

  He nodded, but it wasn’t that he was ticklish, not really. It was the fact that her body making contact with his made his heart rate quadruple.

  She smirked at him, that mischievous little half-smile that made him melt a little, wondering what was going on in that likely-lurid mind of hers.

  When their plates were empty, and Elle swept them away, Jolie leaned back in her seat and patted her belly.

  “Empire waists are good for two things,” she said. “Hiding my lack of hips and giant food babies.”

  “Any room left beside the food baby?” Carson asked as Elle approached holding a plate with the most decadent-looking slice of chocolate cake he’d ever seen.

  Jolie’s eyes lit up and she sat up straight again. “I always have room for chocolate.” She snatched up a fork and pointed it at Elle. “You’re not going to sing, right?”

  Elle trilled a laugh as she set the plate down in front of her. “I will if you ask me to.” She pressed her palms together. “Please don’t ask me to, I have a horrible singing voice.”

  “You are an angel,” Jolie said with a sigh.

  “Requested by your gentleman,” the server said with a smile. “Triple chocolate black velvet. Enjoy.”

  “Happy birthday,” Carson said softly, his mouth going dry as Jolie turned her gaze back to his. They shone with emotion, something he couldn’t quite identify, then she blinked a few times, her smirk emerging.

  “Thank you, my gentleman.” She waggled her eyebrows, and pointed at his dessert fork. “You gonna help me eat this, or what?”

  He chuckled and nodded, but waited for her to scoop a forkful for herself first. As she closed those luscious lips around a bite of chocolate, her eyes fluttered closed and she moaned.

  “Good?” he asked hoarsely.

  She chewed slowly, as if savouring every second. She raised her chin as she swallowed, and he watched her, watched the soft slope of her jaw.

  She finally opened her eyes and that affectionate shine was back as she looked at him, whispering, “Best birthday ever.”

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  For the thirty seconds it took for Carson to close the passenger door and walk around his SUV to the driver’s side, Jolie allowed herself a small squeal of excitement.

  He was gorgeous, sweet, gentlemanly, and everything that was wonderful in this world. And now he was taking her home. Home!

  She fiddled with the zipper of her purse as he got into the driver’s seat and started the car.

  Okay, I've got, what, five minutes for him to warm it up and then a twenty minute drive to figure out how to ask him up to my apartment? You got this Jo. You got this!

  During her internal pep talk, Carson fiddled with the radio, eventually settling on the local classic rock station. He left it low, but she could clearly make out a crunchy melodic guitar solo.

  “Eighties power ballads, huh?” she teased.

  He wrinkled his nose. “You can change it if you want,” he said, clearing his throat. “I don’t know if you’ve told me your favourite music. I remember you saying you hate country, though.”

  She exaggerated a shudder. “Hate it,” she confirmed. “Everything else is cool though. I like this. My dad used to listen to classic rock in the car all the time when I was little.” She stifled a groan.

  Yes, compare him to your dad who is not that much older than he is. Great job!

  If Carson had the same train of thought, he didn’t show it. He hit a few buttons on the console, and the leather beneath Jolie began to heat up.

  “Ooh, buttwarmer, fancy.” A lurid joke about how her ass was already hot leapt to the tip of her tongue but she swallowed it. Smooth and cool, smooth and cool. “So, um, thank you for paying for dinner. I know we agreed that I wasn’t going to be a bitch about you paying because it’s my birthday, but I’m allowed to say thank you, right?”

  He chuckled, a sound low in his throat that zipped straight to her core. “You are allowed to do whatever you want.” He side-glanced her. “Perhaps I should say thank you for letting me pay without incident.”

  “Honestly, in hindsight I’m gl
ad I agreed not to put up a fight,” she admitted, and curled an errant lock of hair around the back of her ear. “That menu had no prices on it. I don’t even wanna know.”

  He stopped at a red light, the blinker keeping time, click-click, click-click, as they waited for a left turn. “I know we live in progressive times…I didn’t want you to think I was trying to degrade you or anything…I just really wanted to take you out for your birthday.” The cadence of his voice and slight stammering betrayed his nervousness, and Jolie couldn’t help the thrill that ran through her at how disarmed he seemed.

  “Yes, it’s so degrading being showered in deep-fried cheese and chocolate.” She giggled and put a hand to her chest. “I am so offended and hard done by.” Her gaze lowered down the dash to where his hand rested on the shifter, not gripping it too hard or too loose. Something about a man driving a manual transmission in this day and age, with so much ease and grace that she hadn’t even noticed it wasn’t automatic, sent a shiver through her.

  Am I seriously turned on by a hand on a shifter right now? She cleared her throat. “So, can it be my turn next?”

  Carson raised an eyebrow as the light turned green and he shifted into first. “Your turn?” he asked, and she tore her gaze away from his hand to look at his profile.

  “My turn to take you out?” She flicked the metal tab of her zipper back and forth, back and forth. “Or is that too degrading to your maleness?”

  He laughed and shook his head. “My maleness is immune to degradation.” He winced as if he had thought better about the words coming out of his mouth.

  Jolie grinned, letting him stew in his embarrassment.

  “What I mean is, yes, I would love to go on another date with you.”

  She stared down at her hands, suddenly feeling like the delight she took in his nervousness had caused karma to smack her in the face like a bitch. “I, um, it’s not going to be fancy.”

  “It doesn’t have to be,” he replied quickly. “I like spending time with you. Doesn’t matter where we are.”