by Natalie Ann
He liked the way his name sounded on her lips. “Did the guy know?”
She rolled her eyes playfully. “What do you think?”
“So what was the plan, then?” Guess he was behind the times when it came to first dates. Or dating in general.
“There was a group of us girls. We had a signal. Dropping our silverware on the floor, stretching in the seat, calling a waitress over to order another drink. It was different all the time.”
Nothing that would stand out too much to the unsuspecting male. “So then what would happen?”
“One of us would come over and make a scene. Usually something along the lines of leaving the restaurant in a hurry, tears in our eyes, visibly upset and shocked to see the other person there. The person on the date would rush up and find out what was going on, console us, and if they were lucky, their date would say she should be with her friend. If they weren’t lucky, they would just say they needed to leave.”
“The guy fell for that?” Guess they were pretty stupid, the men she and her friends dated before.
“We could be pretty convincing. We’d been doing it for years.”
He wasn’t sure he liked her doing that. The games that she and her friends played. He wasn’t looking for games, or the immature ideals of dating. He appreciated she was protecting herself, but just not in the way she was going about it.
“How often did you do it? Use that as an excuse to leave a date early?”
“I only did it once. I never felt right doing it, to be honest. I’d much rather suck up the bad date. It wasn’t like it was the end of the world. When the night was over, I’d just tell them thank you, but I wasn’t interested.”
That made him feel at least a little bit better. “What caused you to do it that day?”
“I don’t remember everything, just that I didn’t like the way he was leering at me, trying to see down my shirt. He gave me the creeps. I figured that gave me a free pass to do it that night.”
Damn straight it did, and he didn’t like the way he felt thinking of that happening to her. “I suppose it did.”
“Anyway, I’ll let you get back to work. What do you think about lunch? Willing to risk it? I promise I won’t make you want to climb out of the bathroom window.”
Her green eyes twinkling sent a punch right to his gut. He should say no, he should pass, but instead he found himself saying, “I don’t think it’s possible you’d make me climb out of a window.”
“It’s a date then. Well, it will be when you let me know the day.” She turned and went back to her workspace after he nodded.
“Now I’m really going out for lunch.” She walked out talking almost two hours later. “And since I’ve picked up pizza the last two times and know you had it last Saturday for men’s night.” She stopped, her eyes wide, a massive smile on her face. “Oops, sorry, I’m not supposed to mention men’s night.”
He laughed, he had to, she was just too funny. Funnier than he ever expected her to be. “Don’t you know the man code?”
“Since I’m not a man, I don’t know them all. But I’m sure I know a few. Still, what would you like to eat? My treat, you keep working.”
He reached into his wallet. “You’ve bought me lunch twice already. I think that makes me look like a deadbeat.” He pushed the cash at her again after she brushed his hand away. “Take it, or you eat alone.” Her shoulders dropped and he was glad she wasn’t arguing. “Get whatever you want.”
“Don’t you know you should never give cash to a woman and say those words?”
She was teasing. He knew and smiled, but it was forced, reminding him of his personal experience with Trey’s mother. He pushed that aside. He didn’t want to believe Olivia was like that. She hadn’t shown too many signs of it.
“I guess it depends on the woman. Not all will take the money and run.” Even though he hadn’t known anything different. Trey’s mother would have snatched the cash fast, then whined for more, saying it wasn’t enough for what she wanted.
She tilted her head, her expression serious now. “No, they don’t. And just so you know, I don’t. Not anymore.”
“But you have?” He should have gone with his gut.
“Not like you think. And that’s a conversation for another time. Trust me when I say, my past is exactly that. What you see of me now, that’s who I am. Fully, completely, and no one else.”
He believed her. If not by the look in her eyes, then by the conviction in her voice.
***
Olivia didn’t know what possessed her to say what she did. To admit that she was someone different. Maybe she wanted him to understand her. To know she was who she said she was. Not someone that people guessed at or made judgments on.
In the past, that was exactly what happened. They knew her background. They knew what her life was like—she only ever really dated people within her circle or social standing. Or the circles she cultivated for her work. Wealthy circles, shallow people, and partiers. People who were never who you thought they were.
But she wanted Finn to know. She wanted him to know she was honest. She wanted to know he wasn’t judging her based on her background. The background that allowed people to have little to no expectations of her, too.
And she’d liked it that way. It was easy, not much work at all. Only she was sick of people not expecting much from her. She was sick of not having expectations of herself.
Because she mattered. Who she was and what she did, how she impacted other people mattered. It mattered a great deal to her.
If Finn didn’t like who she was, it would hurt. She’d have no excuses, nothing to fall back on. She couldn’t convince herself, “Well, I was pretending, so it doesn’t matter he didn’t like me, it wasn’t the real me anyway.”
She was going to be her, the real Olivia. Either he would like her for that person, or he wouldn’t, but she’d survive. And she’d move on either way. The more she told herself that, the easier it would be. She hoped.
“Where did you go off to?”
“What?” she said, looking around, finding him against another wall, watching her. “What did you say?”
“I asked where you went to. You looked like you were in a daze right now.”
She put a smile on her face and walked forward with their lunch. “Sorry, my mind was wandering. Nothing important. I’ve got our sandwiches.”
He set the nail gun he’d been holding down, took his safety goggles off his head and walked closer. “Where do you want to sit?”
“We can go in the back room and eat on my work counter. I cleared some space off before I left.”
He reached back and tugged on her ponytail. It felt funny, odd almost, the teasing nature of it. No one had ever done that to her before. Nothing spontaneous and frivolous. “Thinking ahead, huh?”
She smiled, examining his face. The rough whiskers she was growing to like, the dark brown eyes oftentimes more serious than they should be, but looking at her softly in the moment. His lips, curved up in a smile, thin, not full, showing nice teeth. Not perfectly straight teeth that his parents spent boatloads of money on, but nice normal teeth. Straight, but not overly.
Nothing about him was perfect. He didn’t spend a lot of time in front of the mirror getting ready, she could tell. She’d seen him clean-shaven before, but not often. She was learning that it depended on his shift at the firehouse. But she liked both looks on him.
“I tend to think a lot. More than might be healthy, some would say.”
“Well then, lead the way.”
She would, she’d lead the way to her future, with or without him. And she’d be just fine.
Dangerous
“So, would this could be considered our second date then?” Olivia asked a few days later.
“If we say that, then the first date kind of makes me a piss poor excuse of a man. Eating lunch at your work station was a pretty sad first date.”
He wanted to do better by her. Even sitting in the pub right now
wasn’t that wonderful, but it was the best he felt he could do right now.
He liked her idea about a lunch date. Start slow. No worries, no stress, and no babysitters for him. No having to explain to anyone why he needed a babysitter either.
“Why? Do you think I’m so shallow that I can’t appreciate lunch with good company outside of a fancy restaurant?”
“I didn’t mean it that way.” And now he felt shallow himself assuming that, or making her feel that way. “I just meant that though it’s been a long time since I’ve been on an actual date, I still can figure out how to handle one.”
“A long time, you say?” She lifted her eyebrow at him, smirking slightly.
He brought it up, might as well lead in with it. They were on the clock, so there was only so much they could talk about. He wouldn’t be able to go into depth, not that he would even consider it.
“Hard to get a sitter.” She hesitated for a moment—he couldn’t miss it, not with her opening her mouth and closing it. “Go ahead, ask.”
“I’m assuming you’re a single parent. You mentioned you weren’t married and didn’t have a girlfriend, so…divorced?”
“Would it matter if I was?”
“Not at all. Just curious.”
He believed her, believed there wasn’t much more than that. “Trey’s mother decided motherhood wasn’t for her and took off shortly after he was born.”
“Oh.” She looked sad for a moment and the last thing he wanted was pity. He’d seen and felt enough of that in the last four years. “I know a bit about that, you could say.”
Somehow, he doubted that. “How’s that?”
“I haven’t seen my father face to face in close to fifteen years. Maybe longer. He doesn’t talk to me, not unless it’s through his assistant. He’s in the picture, but not really. Just a name to me, not even a voice or a face at this point. Checkbooks don’t mean a whole lot to me.”
“It’s not really the same thing.”
“No, you’re right. I still had my mother, kind of. When she wasn’t jet setting around the globe looking for her next conquest, the next man to help her get through her broken heart. And trust me, I’m ruining this date, so let’s change the subject. I’m sorry you’re on your own, but from what I can see Trey comes first to you and that’s the way it should be.”
Not what he expected at all. Not after listening to the brief description of her parents and her relationship with them. Maybe that was all the more reason he expected her to want to be put first.
“It is that way. Trey has to come first.”
She nodded. “Let’s move on to something a bit lighter, but I’ll tell you that I’m okay with that. With Trey coming first, I mean. I wish I had a father figure like that with me as a child, so I wouldn’t begrudge it of someone else. So how did you end up working two completely different jobs, pretty much full time each?”
He was relieved she changed the subject. He wasn’t ready to talk about his past with Trey or Trey’s mother. It wasn’t a subject he talked about often, and no one really knew everything. Pride had kept him from voicing the things that happened after Becca left.
“It just sort of fell in place that way.”
“Why firefighting? It’s pretty dangerous. Are you someone that likes the thrill of that? Living on the edge?”
“There’s no thrill rushing into a burning fire. Not like you’re thinking. It’s not for enjoyment, I can tell you that much.” He knew Becca was turned on by his job, by the risk factor of it, and it had always bothered him deep down.
“What is it, then?”
He shrugged, not used to talking about it.
“I guess you could say ever since I saw that big red firetruck in kindergarten, I was hooked. Bright red and shiny, the lights flashing, the sirens. What’s not to love to a five-year-old boy?”
She laughed softly. “Ah, big red firetruck. That’s all it took, huh?”
“Pretty much.”
“What about the woodworking?”
“My grandfather was a cabinetmaker and he passed his love of woodworking on to me. It stuck and was a good hobby that turned into something more.”
“How long have you been at Harper’s?”
“Just a few years.”
He’d been on his own, picking and choosing his own jobs, but when Trey came along and he alone was responsible for him, it was too much to juggle everything. The stability of Harper’s and them deciding the jobs and times was what he needed in his life. They worked around his schedule easily.
“So how did you end up there? I’ve heard Phil talking to Sophia. It’s not easy to get hired at Harper’s. You must have been pretty good.”
“I am pretty good. And yes, it’s not easy. I’d done a few custom wood pieces for Alec personally on his flips, and it just evolved from there.”
He paused while their lunches were set in front of them and watched as she picked up her napkin and placed it in her lap, looking like the lady of the manor getting ready to pick up her burger and bite in.
“You know, you aren’t like any other woman I know.”
She finished chewing, wiped her lip and said, “I would like to think I’m not. Then again, maybe you mean that in a negative way. So why am I different?”
“Not negative, no. We’ve spent the entire time talking about me for the most part, nothing about you.”
“Ah, the shallow misconception again?”
She was laughing at him, he saw, even though she took a huge bite of her burger and continued to chew. It was the twinkle in her eye, shining so lively at the moment. He fought to keep the embarrassment from creeping up his neck and almost succeeded until she winked at him.
“I’ve been put in my place,” he had the grace to say.
“Have you? Somehow I don’t picture you as someone who gets put in his place often.”
“Misconceptions,” he told her.
“Points for you. So let’s say we both have them concerning each other. Okay, ask away, what do you want to know?”
“Why jewelry?” It was a safe enough question. “I figured you could do anything you want, or nothing at all and still live comfortably.”
“Yes to both assumptions. But I like shiny things. Kind of like you, only my likes are smaller than big red firetrucks.” He grinned at her, he couldn’t help it. “Anyway, I like to draw, too. But I got sick of having pieces of jewelry like everyone else had. I wanted different, unique. What better way to get them than to make them myself?”
“Different and unique, just like you.”
“You could say that.”
“And yet you never wear your pieces.”
“You’ve noticed.”
“I’ve noticed a lot about you.”
“You know, Finn, you’ve got a smoothness to you.”
“You’re the first to ever say so.” Seriously, no one had ever said he was smooth. Must be she brought it out in him.
“I’ll take that as a compliment. As to why I don’t wear much jewelry, well, that’s easy. It gets in the way when I’m working, and that is really the only environment you’ve seen me in.”
“Don’t forget the playground.”
“Jewelry and toddlers at the park don’t go hand in hand either.”
“So if I take you on a real date, you’ll let me see more of your designs?”
“You mean this isn’t a real date?” She fluttered her eyelashes at him. “I’m hurt. Here I was all proud of myself with the suggestion.”
She was dangerous, no doubt about it. Every time he thought he had a handle on her, she did or said something that threw him off track.
“It was a good suggestion,” he said trying to make her feel better.
“Well then, whenever you think you want to try for a real date, I’ll make sure I give you something to look at.”
Yep, dangerous. Really, really dangerous.
***
“This is crazy,” Olivia said. “Why did we have to take two cars?”
“Because no one needs to see we left together.”
“Is it a problem if someone does?” She didn’t think it was a big deal if anyone knew. They weren’t doing anything wrong.
“I figured it would be easier for everyone.”
“For you maybe, not for me. Actually, it would have been easier for you if we just took my car. Then you wouldn’t be parked so far away this time,” she said, smirking at him.
“True.”
“Next time we can take my car. I’ll even let you drive.”
“Drive your car?” he asked, his eyes shifting over to where it was parked.
“It’s just a car, Finn. I could care less who drives it. Besides, you know this area better. I had all I could do to find the pub just now.”
“You’re a piece of work.”
“I thought we established that already. It’s a good thing too, right?” She took a step forward, more into his personal space. “You know, I know you said it had been a while since you dated, but you really need to catch up. Two dates, and not even a touch on my hand, let alone a kiss.”
“Maybe I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
“Or maybe I scare you? Now wouldn’t that be funny.”
“It would be, if it were true. If you want me to kiss you, why don’t you ask for it?”
He lowered his head, teasing her, holding her stare as those words came out in a deep whisper, almost rumbling in his chest.
Okay, she said he was smooth. He was, and she liked this side of him, too. The side that was a bit rough, a bit scary, and a whole lot of controlling man. She leaned up, not far, not with her heels on, and had her lips hovering just in front of his.
“I don’t like to ask for things. But if I see something I like, I want to give it a try.”
He touched his lips to hers softly, barely a graze, then whispered, “So I’m something you need to try for the first time.”
“No. First time yes, but not just a sample and run.”