By the time I got there, Fake Jamie had his hands up in the surrender sign, Ryan glaring at him, his hands clenched at his sides.
Thor? Oh, yes.
“All right, mate. Keep your hair on.” Fake Jamie turned to his date. “Come on, darling‘. We’re leaving.” He shot me a look meant to wither. “This place sucks.”
Ryan stood back as Fake Jamie led his confused girlfriend past us and out the door. Once they were gone, he turned to me and shook his head. “What a jerk.”
I smiled back. I could think of quite a few other names to call him right now. Jerk was just the tip of the iceberg.
“Thanks for . . . you know.” What? Rescuing me like a damsel in distress?
I’d never gone in for that sort of thing, but I had to admit, Ryan dealing with Fake Jamie in that way had felt good.
And, if he hadn’t turned up when he had, I’m not sure how things would have turned out.
“Did you know that guy?”
“I met him at the speed dating thing.”
“Well, I think that’s the last you’re going to see of him.”
I looked out the window to the darkened street outside, illuminated in patches by streetlights.
After the scare I’d just had, I hoped he was right.
Chapter 11
I SAT AT THE kitchen counter, a half empty glass of wine in my hand. Although the evening was winding down and customers had begun to leave, I knew I still had work to do. But Ryan had insisted I sit down with a drink to calm my nerves.
And it was a good plan. The alcohol had warmed my belly, the memory of Fake Jamie’s unwanted advances fading.
Ryan sat beside me, disquiet written across his face.
“You don’t have to sit here with me, you know. I’m feeling a whole lot better now. And I have loads to do.”
“Paige is on it. She told me to stay with you.”
I did an internal eye roll. Any chance she could get to throw us together. “I’m sure she did.” A smile teased at the edges of my mouth.
“What?” Ryan asked.
I shook my head. “Nothing. Just Paige being Paige.”
“Well, it’s good to see that smile back on your beautiful face.”
I blinked at him. First, he got all manly kicking Fake Jamie out on his butt, now he was calling me beautiful?
Wow, a girl could really fall for a guy like Ryan.
“OMG! Paige just told us what happened!” Marissa came bustling into the kitchen, Cassie, Nash, Will, and Josh hot on her heels.
Did everyone know about this now?
“I’m fine, really,” I protested, though it was clear no one believed me.
Marissa and Cassie fussed over me, Cassie refilling my glass with more wine, and Marissa patting me on the back like I was a baby with wind.
“Heard you stood up for her,” Nash said to Ryan. “Tossed the guy out on his ear.”
Ryan shrugged. “You’d have done the same.”
“Good work, man.” Will slapped Ryan on the back.
“I can’t believe it was that sleazy guy from the speed dating,” Marissa said. “I feel so bad I sent you on that.”
“Hey, do you think he came here on purpose? You know, to find Bailey?” Josh said.
“Oh, my gosh. Maybe he did!” Cassie’s eyes wide.
“All right, you guys.” I stood up. “Before you develop any stalker conspiracy theories and get me completely drunk—” I eyed the fresh wine bottle in Cassie’s hand. “He didn’t even remember my name. It was just an unfortunate coincidence that he came here tonight and did what he did. Nothing more.”
“You need a bouncer. A big, gnarly looking one who can scare idiots like that guy off,” Nash said to agreement from the men and women alike.
“I think she should call the police,” Marissa said.
“Enough!” Everyone stopped and gaped at me. “No bouncers, no police. I’m fine. And now I have a café to clean up and prepare for opening tomorrow. And you all have homes to go to.”
“We’re just trying to help,” Cassie said.
“I know you are. And to help me right now, you can all go home.”
They muttered and hung their heads like a group of naughty school children being sent off for punishment.
Paige came into the kitchen, a tray of empty dishes in her hands. “What are you all doing in here?” She placed the tray on the counter. “Right, off you go. Shoo! Shoo!”
I smiled to myself as I watched her bustle everyone out of the kitchen. I went to take a sip of my wine, thought better of it, and poured the glass down the sink. I had a café to prepare for tomorrow and an early morning ahead of me. I needed a clear head.
Paige came back into the kitchen, and we set about organizing and cleaning up. Sophie was stacking the chairs onto the tables in the café, and Penny, one of our casual employees, was busy sweeping. They were almost done.
“Can I help?” Ryan asked, appearing in the doorway.
“You’ve done enough already,” I said with a smile.
He shook his head. “Give me something to do.” He clearly wasn’t taking no for an answer.
“All right.” I handed him a cloth and a bottle of disinfectant. “Counter tops, please.”
He flashed me his smile and went to work.
I tried not to watch him as he sprayed and wiped, a knot forming in my belly at how sweet he was being to me. I may well have been able to get away from Fake Jamie in the hallway on my own, but Ryan had turned up at just the right time. And now he was here, watching out for me.
Really, it was enough to make a girl swoon.
Which I was not going to let myself do.
As wonderful as he’d been to me tonight, I knew he was totally anti-love. Otherwise something might have already happened between us.
Wouldn’t it?
We worked for the best part of an hour, until my feet ached, and all I could think of was soaking in a warm tub and forgetting about the evening.
With her jacket already on, Paige breezed past me. “I’m off. See you tomorrow.” Without waiting for a reply, she swung the back door open where Josh was waiting for her. “Come on, you two.”
Penny and Sophie, also in their jackets, their purses slung over their shoulders, slunk past. Sophie paused to talk with Ryan, and I noticed Paige flashed her a look. “I said, come on, Sophie.”
Sophie let out a frustrated puff of air. “All right.” She looked up at Ryan, towering above her diminutive frame. “See you next time, Ryan.”
“See you, Soph.”
Both the girls called out, “Bye, Bailey,” and Paige pulled the door behind them, giving me a quick wink.
And then it was just Ryan and me.
Paige could not have been any less subtle if she’d paraded around the kitchen with a large neon sign that read “we are now leaving Ryan and Bailey alone together.”
I glanced at Ryan. He was standing with his hands stuffed into his jeans pockets, looking about as uncomfortable as I felt.
“Well, thanks a lot for helping. You really didn’t need to.”
“I wanted to. I . . . I want to make sure you get home all right, too.”
I let out a laugh. “I’ve been doing it on my own for a long time now.”
“You know what I mean. That jerk might still be lurking around out there.”
I shuddered at the thought.
“My car is just across the street. Let me see you home?” His tone was uncompromising.
It made me feel . . . safe. I didn’t know what it was about Ryan—besides his obvious hotness, that was—but I felt protected around him, secure.
I liked it.
I opened my mouth to protest, decided against it. “Sure, that would be great.”
I gave the café a last check over and collected my things. I locked the door behind us, and Ryan and I crossed the street to his car.
No Fake Jamie in sight.
“How’s the new place?” I buckled up in the front seat of his SUV.
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“It’s great, actually. I forgot how much I like to live on my own. My furniture, my mess, my moldy cheese in the refrigerator.”
“Eww, that does not sound good.”
He laughed as he turned the ignition over and pulled out into the quiet street. “After sleeping on Marissa’s sofa for way too long, I’m happy to let my cheese go green in my own refrigerator.”
We chatted about all sorts of things, from the rise in rents to hair product and a bunch of things between. I laughed and enjoyed myself, the unsavory event of the night slipping from my mind.
After what felt like only a matter of seconds, he pulled his car into my driveway and put it in park.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said, unbuckling my seatbelt.
“I’ll see you inside.”
I knew there was no point trying to argue. Ryan Jones was a man who had made up his mind. I wasn’t about to stand in his way.
And, if I were totally honest, I kinda hoped his desire to protect me came from a desire for me.
Yup, I still hadn’t let that hope go.
I tried to ignore the butterflies in my belly as I slipped out of the car. I pulled my keys from my purse, and Ryan and I walked to my front door.
“Did you want to come in for a drink?” I offered, hoping, hoping, hoping . . .
“Sure. That sounds good.”
I beamed at him. A small voice in the back of my head said he likes you, Paige is right. I was finding it hard to ignore.
Once inside, I slipped my jacket off and hung it up. Although I would have loved nothing more than to peel my shoes off and pad around in bare feet, I didn’t. I wanted to look cute for Ryan, and if that meant a few more moments of shoe-inflicted torture, so be it.
“Beer?” I asked over my shoulder as I walked to my kitchen.
“What? No milk this time?”
I let out a laugh as I pulled a couple of cold ones out of the refrigerator. I opened them up and carried them to the living room where Ryan was examining my photos—just like he had the last time he was here.
“I see you went for the cap-free variety tonight,” he said as I handed him his bottle.
I laughed. “My dentist will be disappointed. No expensive work for me.”
We both took sips of our beer, and I suggested we take a seat. I sat down on the sofa, and this time, he sat down next to me.
I tried not to read anything into it.
I failed.
Big time.
“So, those Cozy Cottage Jam things are popular, huh?”
“They are.” Thanks to them, Friday had become our biggest grossing day of the week. “You should sing some time, at the open mic night. We’ve got one coming up soon.”
He laughed, almost spraying his beer. “Have you heard me sing?”
“No.”
“And there’s a very good reason for that.”
“I figured you could sing. Marissa’s good.” I remembered how she had sung a love song at the open mic night that had won Nash’s heart a few months back.
He shook his head “Nope. I didn’t get that gene.”
“Shame. Women love a guy who can sing.”
Was I flirting? Yup, I think I was.
“I can do other things, you know.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“I’m a pretty handy tennis player, and I’m pretty sure I could whip your butt in a game of Wii Baseball.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Is that so?” I stood up and stepped over to the TV cabinet. I pulled out a couple of white remote controls, turned to face him, holding one in each hand. “I happen to be quite a good tennis player myself, and I can almost guarantee I could whip your butt on Wii.” I waggled the remotes in the air.
“You’ve got a Wii console?”
I nodded, grinning. “Mm-hm.”
“Wow, that’s so retro of you.”
I shrugged. “Does ten years ago actually count as ‘retro?’”
He laughed. It was low and rumbled through me, making me smile. “Sure, it does. Now hand one of those over, De Luca.”
I passed him one of the remotes, trying not to smile at his use of my last name. “Let’s see who can whip whose butt, shall we?”
Yup, definitely flirting now. And I was enjoying it. A lot.
I switched on the TV and powered up the console, selecting “baseball” for two players.
“Choose your team, Jones.”
Two could play at the last name game.
We set about choosing which Mii characters we wanted in our respective teams and then I was up, batting first. As was my custom, I stood up to make my hit, getting into the correct posture I’d seen players do on TV.
“Do you do that every time?” Ryan asked from his position on the sofa, amusement written across his face.
“Be quiet. I’m concentrating.”
Ryan laughed then pitched the ball. I swiped at it, missing it completely.
“Oh, too bad,” he teased.
“I’m just warming up.” I readied myself again. This time when he pitched I whacked the ball and got a home run. I grinned at him. “And that, Mr. Jones, is how you do it.”
He shook his head, smiling.
We cycled through my players until I had a decent score on the board—not my personal best, but then I hadn’t played Wii for a long time.
Not since Dan.
The thought of him made me stop in my tracks. This Wii console was his, and he’d brought it over here when we’d started to get serious. I remembered the fun evenings we’d had together playing this game, of how we’d pretended not to be competitive with one another while we so were. I’d never played any video game before we started dating, and Dan taught me how.
“You didn’t even take a swing at that.” Ryan’s voice interrupted my walk down memory lane.
“Momentary lapse of concentration. I’m back on it.”
My innings over, I prepared myself to pitch. Again, Ryan laughed when I did a couple of practice runs, lifting my left leg and holding the remote in my hand like a ball in a mitt.
“What?” I mock-glared at him, pretending I was offended.
“I don’t know. You look so pretty in that dress, and then you pitch like you mean it.”
“I totally mean it. Now bring it.”
We played and bantered with one another until eventually I won the match in the final seconds. It was a real edge-of-your-seat kinda finish to the game.
I’d love to say I was modest about my victory. I was not. I danced around my living room, butchering Queen’s famous song with “I am the champion” while Ryan watched on, laughing.
Once I’d finished, he stood up and extended his hand. “Well done, De Luca. A match well played.”
I took his hand in mine and shook it. “Well played to you, too. You put up a good fight.”
“We’ll have to have a rematch someday soon.”
There was something in the way he said “someday soon” that had my tummy doing a flip. Neither of us let go of the other’s hand and as we stood together, something shifted between us.
Gone was the lively banter, the fun between friends.
“Bailey, I . . . I didn’t like that guy treating you the way he did.”
I pressed my lips together. “Me neither.”
“It did something to me.”
“What did it do . . . exactly?” I held my breath, hope rising in me like yeast in bread.
“I don’t know. It was like it forced me to wake up. Does that make sense?”
I opened my mouth to speak. Wake up from what? I knew what he wanted to be waking up from, but I didn’t say anything. Instead, I shook my head.
He let out a puff of air, our hands still linked. “The way he had a hold of your arm, the way it was obvious what he intended to do to you? Well, it sure made see red. I couldn’t stand by and watch it.” He shrugged. “I know it makes me seem like I think I’m some kind of hero.”
Thor, maybe?
“No, you did the
right thing. He’d overstepped the line. Thank you.”
“It . . . it did something else to me, too.”
“What?” My voice came out breathless.
“It made me realize what an idiot I’ve been.”
I bit my lip. “You’ve been an idiot?”
He let out a small laugh. “Yeah. You’re this great girl and I’ve been . . . well, I’ve been thinking about you a lot.” He glanced from my eyes to my lips and back again.
I held my breath.
“Actually, I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time. Since the day we met, in fact.”
My eyes got huge. “You have? But that was ages ago.” I thought of how I’d had an instant attraction to him the first time I saw him, too. It was at the Cozy Cottage, all that time ago.
He nodded, moving his free hand to my shoulder. “See? Idiot.”
Suddenly nervous, the relaxed camaraderie of the last hour had morphed into something else. I looked up into his eyes, my heart pounding in my chest. In a beat, we moved closer to one another so we were mere inches apart. He bent his head down toward me, and I tilted mine up to meet him, closing my eyes. He brushed his lips gently against mine.
It was brief, electric.
Wonderful.
I opened my eyes as he pulled away.
He cleared his throat. “Sorry, I . . . I shouldn’t have done that.”
“Why not?” My voice was breathless.
His eyes darted back to mine. They were full of unspoken words. “Because I . . . because I like you. Really like you.”
I let out a light laugh, giddy with what had just happened between us, with what he was saying. “That’s why you can’t kiss me?” I shook my head. “Ryan, that has got to be the stupidest thing I think I’ve ever heard.”
His face creased into a smile that had me melting at the knees. “It kinda is, isn’t it?”
“Totally.”
His eyes flashed. “Want to do it again?”
Is the Pope Catholic?
“Oh, yeah.”
This time he crushed his lips against mine, his fingers tangled up in my curls, my body tingling from the top of my head to my toes. I breathed in his scent, lost in the kiss, lost in his embrace.
And it was a good kiss, the kind that made your toes curl, the kind that left you breathless, alive. There were fireworks and stars and electricity bouncing off the walls.
Four Last First Dates Page 9