Make Me Fall

by Sara Rider

  The server came to the table for their orders. She picked up her menu and nearly choked on the prices. “I think we need a few more moments to decide, but could we get some clean cutlery for my friend?”

  The server snatched both of their sets of cutlery with a sneer. “Consider the special. It’s a mint- and panko-crusted halibut,” he said before spinning on his heel and walking off.

  “It was really nice of you to bring me here, especially when you had something else planned, but I feel like I should warn you that we’re not compatible before you spend fifty dollars on the lamb,” she said with her eyes fixed on the menu when the waiter finally left.

  “You don’t know that. We’ve barely even gotten to know each other. By the end of the date, you might be begging me for another.”

  “I know that I’m way less comfortable with germs than you are and that we do not overlap in our taste in music.”

  “Sure, but you don’t know my name.”

  She narrowed her eyes, but couldn’t maintain her annoyance. He was dangerously adept at disarming her with that crooked smile. She needed to remind herself to keep her brain in charge of her decisions tonight and keep every other part of her anatomy out of it. “Your name is irrelevant. It has no bearing on the success of this date.”

  “Unless my last name is Bora. Or Snora. Or Von Spackledick.”

  She sipped her water, trying not to laugh. “We’re not getting married, and even if we did, I wouldn’t change my last name.”

  “Why? What’s your last name?”

  “Pitts.”

  He grimaced.

  “It’s not that bad.”

  “Keep telling yourself that, Pitts.”

  “I’m a chemistry professor and I’ve published a lot under my own name. I didn’t change my name after my first marriage, and I won’t change it if I ever get married again. It would be like erasing all of my past accomplishments, and I’ve worked too hard to do that.”

  She instantly regretted the sharply spoken outburst. Her refusal to change her name had always been a sore spot between her and Gavin, but the last thing she’d meant to do was bring up her divorce on a first date.

  He leaned back in his chair and ran his hand along his jaw. “Wow. Hate to break it to you, Nora Pitts, but we have something big in common.”

  “What?” She braced herself for the inevitable awful discussion about their past breakups. God, why was she so bad at this?

  “Master’s of Chemistry from U-Dub.”

  “No way.” She didn’t even try to hide her surprise.

  “Yep. I was going to finish up with a PhD before my friend Jake and I decided to open a brewery instead. How about you? Are you working at Shadow Creek College?”

  She took a deep breath, trying to work up some pride in her voice. “Sure am.”

  The server appeared again. “Have you decided?”

  Shoot. She’d gotten caught up in the conversation and forgot to look at the menu. The pressure flustered her. She scanned the menu quickly. “I’ll have the peppercorn steak, medium, but could you replace the green beans with the seasonal vegetables and go light on the gravy? Actually, gravy on the side, please.”

  The server didn’t even try to hide his annoyed sigh. She legitimately was allergic to green beans, and maybe the gravy on the side thing was annoying, but so was paying fifty dollars for a steak while sitting at a table next to the bathroom.

  “I’ll have the steak as well, rare, with the green beans, and give me all the damn gravy you’ve got,” Humperdinck said.

  “You wouldn’t be the first person to tell me I’m overly picky,” she said when the server left.

  He leaned forward, resting his elbows against the table. His ankles brushed against hers. “You know, they say opposites attract for a reason. Maybe you just need someone like me to help you loosen up.”

  Like she’d never heard that from a man before. “And what would you be getting out of this?”

  “A good time.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Exactly. Opposites might attract for one night, but opposites don’t make sustainable, happy relationships.”

  “Jumping ahead a little bit, are we?”

  “No, I’m not, and that’s the point. I’m not a one-night stand kind of woman. You might be fine with asking a pathetic stranger out as a joke just to get a little action on the side, but I’m not. I only said yes because I wanted Gemma and Rose to choke on their insults and shut the hell up for once. And the fact is, the next date I go on will be with someone who’s actually interested in a second and third date.”

  He leaned back and crossed his arms, ubiquitous grin replaced by a scowl. “So you know all there is to know about me. Is that it?”

  “I know what I need to know for the purpose of this date,” she answered in a small voice.

  “First impressions aren’t everything. If they were, I never would have asked out a woman who’s wound so tight, she explodes like a goddamn missile every time someone tries to live their life in a way that doesn’t abide by her perfectly ordered plans.”

  She gasped. Tears prickled her eyes when she realized everyone in in the restaurant was watching them.

  “Shit, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

  She adjusted her cutlery so it lined up perfectly with the edges of the table. “You did. And that’s okay because it’s true.”

  “It’s not.” He extended his hand halfway across the table before closing his fist and pulling it back, as though he was about to reach for her then decided better.

  Silence frosted the air between them while they waited for their food. Her heart thundered in her chest like it was trying to escape the embarrassment, but her shoulders curved downward, trapping it and the remaining tatters of her dignity deep inside her. They didn’t speak or make eye contact while they waited for their food, which fortunately didn’t take long.

  She cut her steak open, not surprised to see she’d been given a rare piece of meat instead of what she ordered. Just suck it up. It’s not going to kill you. She popped a bite in her mouth and almost gagged on it from surprise. It wasn’t just rare, it was practically raw, and still cold in the middle. Not to mention salted like it was being cured. Spitting out the bite she’d taken would only fuel his conviction that she was an uptight brat, so she chewed it slowly, willing herself not to make a face. After a few disgusting minutes, she managed to crunch through the cold meat long enough to made it bearable to swallow.

  “Something wrong with your food?”

  She shook her head quickly and took a huge sip of water.

  “Bullshit.” He reached across the table and jabbed his fork into one of the pieces she’d pre-cut, and shoved it in his mouth before spitting it right out. “Ugh. You can’t eat that.”

  “It’s fine,” she whispered.

  “It’s not.” He signaled to the server. “My date’s food is ice cold and tastes like a salt lick.”

  The server widened his eyes in affront. “Our chef is one of the best in the city. I assure you, the food is cooked to perfection.”

  “Sure, if he was trying to cook a hockey puck.” He picked up the slab of meat and let it drop against the plate with a clatter that proved how rock solid it was.

  “I’m sorry,” the server said, aghast. “It’s honestly a mistake. Your meal is on us and we’ll bring you out a replacement right away.”

  “Thank you,” she said, grateful for the quick resolution.

  “We’re not staying.” Humperdinck pulled out his wallet and slapped a couple bills on the table. “I know this isn’t your fault, and we appreciate the offer, but we’re going to finish our dinner somewhere else.”

  He got up, grabbed her hand, and tugged her out of the restaurant. “Where are we going?”

  He didn’t answer until they were both inside the truck. “How do you feel about Red Top Burgers?”

  She wanted to tell him to just bring her home, but he actually sounded earnest. After how terribly this date had been
going, he still wanted to see it through. How could she say no? “I don’t know, but I’m willing to try.”

  “Good.”

  Fifteen minutes later, they’d pulled up to a bluff overlooking the valley with a bucket of fries, a chiliburger with everything on it, and a cheeseburger—hold the onions and lettuce and mustard. He laid out a musty old blanket from the cab of his truck on the grass and sat across from her with the food in the middle.

  Her neighbor was a very confusing man. “You could have just taken me home.”

  “Believe it or not, I’m not trying to go down as the worst date in history. And I didn’t ask you out as joke, either. I asked you out because you looked like someone who needed a friend. A real one. Not like those women you hang out with on Friday nights. Now pass me that hand sanitizer.”

  Her heart twisted with an inexplicable emotion. She pulled the travel-sized bottle from her purse and squirted some in her hand before passing it to him, then laid out her napkin over her lap. “Thank you. It’s not easy making friends in a new city. I joined the book club to meet people, but it’s not going so well.”

  He unwrapped one of the burgers and peeked inside the bun, then handed it to her. “Why don’t you come by my bar sometime? There’s lots of nice people there.”

  “Maybe I will,” she said before taking a quick bite of her cheeseburger.

  He returned her smile with a sweet one of his own, captivating her with that lingering gaze. Their date may have been an epic failure, but for the first time, she started to believe that maybe they could actually become friends. Or friendlier. Or at least maybe she’d stop wanting to throttle him every time he blasted his music at odd hours.

  He cleared his throat, and even though they only had the headlights from his truck to illuminate their picnic, she was pretty sure there was a hint of blush on his cheeks. “You good with ketchup on the fries?”

  She nodded, and then watched in horror as he ripped open the little package and squirted it all over the fries. “I should have figured you’re the kind of person who eats fries with ketchup splattered all over the place.”

  She picked up one fry that was relatively unscathed by the condiment explosion and popped it in her mouth with a tiny moan of pleasure. Curly fries beat out an expensive steak any day.

  “Let me guess, you only like your ketchup if it comes in one of those waxy little cups so that you don’t have to get your hands dirty.” He grabbed a fry and shoved into his mouth, spilling a glob of ketchup onto his finger.

  “Exactly.” He licked his finger clean, which was gross, yet there was no denying the shiver that rolled down her spine. “I’m starting to think that maybe you’re right that we are complete opposites. Morning or night?”

  “Morning.” She didn’t even have to ask which he preferred. “Cats or dogs?”

  “Dogs,” he answered quickly. “You?”

  She bit her lip, holding back another smile.

  “Oh, come on. You can’t be serious.”

  She shrugged and stole another fry. “Cats are independent and smart. What’s not to love?”

  He shook his head, laughing. “They’re also vicious.”

  “Do you believe it’s important to wash your feet in the shower?”

  He gave her an incredulous look. “Really? That’s one of your first date questions?”

  “It’s a very important question determining compatibility.”

  “Sure, but it’s also the kind of thing you’re supposed to find out firsthand the morning after a mind-blowing night together, not through a pop quiz.”

  A flash of heat blazed through her body.

  “But the answer is no. Only if you pee in the shower first. Otherwise, why do what the water and soap running down your body will do for you?”

  “Ew.”

  “Hey, you’re the one that asked.”

  “Not the first bad decision I’ve made in my life.”

  “What’s the worst?”

  She paused with her burger poised at her lips. “I don’t know. I guess everything that led me to move here.”

  “Why? Shadow Creek is great. You’ve got ocean and mountains and parks. Great restaurants. Good people. What more could you want?”

  “All that stuff if great if you have people to enjoy it with. Otherwise, it’s just a reminder of how lonely life can be.” She sealed her lips together. She might not be a dating expert, but she knew no one wanted to hear about her sad-sack story.

  “Then why did you leave?”

  “My divorce,” she answered honestly. “I had a tenure-track position at one of the universities back east, but when things ended, it was too hard to keep working there. Professorships in my field don’t come up often, and this seemed like the kind of job where I could have a little more balance, so here I am. It just didn’t turn out to be exactly what I thought it would.”

  “Do you regret it?”

  She contemplated her answer while swallowing another bite of her cheeseburger. “Sometimes. Most of the time. But I’m pretty stubborn.”

  The truth was, most of her regrets were for what she didn’t do in Boston. She’d been so determined to prove herself professionally that she didn’t leave room for anything else. If she hadn’t spent every minute of life working, she might have actually made some friends to help her deal with the divorce. Heck, maybe Gavin wouldn’t have cheated on her in the first place, though she hated herself for even entertaining that thought.

  “Stubborn, huh?” He grinned and she smacked him lightly on the shoulder. “Ouch. Stubborn and vicious.”

  “I’m pretty sure that’s what my yearbook caption said about me.”

  “Probably because you were giving that sexy death stare in your photo instead of smiling.”

  She laughed. “No comment. But yes, I’ve always been stubborn. Moving here was one of the first impulsive decisions I’ve made in my life and I don’t want to give up just because it’s not going the way I hoped. I’m determined to make it work, even if it kills me.”

  “Didn’t you say you made the decision to move here because you wanted balance?”

  “Yes, but I also said I wasn’t any good at balance. What about you? I’ve been talking about myself all night and I barely know anything about you.”

  “Like my name?”

  She sucked in her breath, then exhaled with a growl. “Fine. I admit it. I don’t know your name. Please just tell me and put me out of my misery.”

  “Nope. You have to earn that privilege.”

  “And how do I do that?”

  He kicked off his loafer and wriggled his toes, the biggest of which was poking through a hole in his blue-and-yellow striped sock. “A foot massage might get you the first letter.”

  “After what you told me about your shower habits? Not a chance.”

  “I guess I’ll just have to charm you with my wit instead.”

  “Actually, you haven’t done such a bad job in that regard.”

  “So you’re admitting this isn’t the worst date ever?”

  The truth was, this was probably her best date in a long time. He’d made her laugh. Made her feel a little less alone. “In some ways the worst, in some ways the best.”

  “Good thing I’m an optimist.” He leaned across the blanket until his face was so close to hers she could feel his breath against her skin. His easy grin was intoxicating from this distance, making her heartbeat speed up until she could feel it thrumming in her chest. Would it really be so bad if he kissed her right now?

  He crept another inch closer and bit the French fry she was holding right out of her hand. “Damn, these things are good.”

  “Hey! That was the last one.”

  “Then we’ll have to do this again sometime. Told you I was an optimist.”

  “I’m still a pessimist, but I think we could make that happen. As friends, though.”

  “Whatever you need to tell yourself to keep that glass half-empty, sweetheart.” He cleaned up their garbage and tossed it all
into a plastic bag. “Ready to head home?”

  “Sure,” she answered cheerily, though disappointment twisted in her gut. She was attracted to him and the idea of losing herself in a passionate kiss was damn appealing. But impulses led to regrets. There was no point starting something romantic with him when they weren’t meant to be, but there was a real chance they could be friends. As long as they kept their hands to themselves.

  The drive home was quick, which was unsurprising considering the size of Shadow Creek, and she was at her doorstep before dusk had completely darkened the sky. He insisted on walking her to her porch.

  She unlocked her door and turned around before going inside. “Are you going to tell me your name now? It’s going to drive me crazy all night if you don’t.”

  He rubbed his fingers along his jaw. “That depends. Are you going to let me finish this date properly?”

  She raised her eyebrow. “What do you mean?”

  He cupped her cheek, tilting her head upward. Anticipation thundered like a million butterflies fluttering in her belly as he tugged softly at the corner of her mouth with his thumb, and she parted her lips on command.

  He pressed his lips to her cheek with a gentle touch that made her skin tingle. He grazed his way to her mouth, leaving a trail of fire in his wake, and sucked on her bottom lip. Her entire body arched toward his, hands pressed against his chest. She hadn’t expected a kiss this tender. She hadn’t known tender could electrify every inch of her skin.

  His tongue finally slid against hers, teasing and tempting her as he deepened the kiss. Blood thrummed against her core, leaving her with an ache that could only be remedied one way. All she had to do was invite him in…

  He broke away, leaving her breathless and raw. “Too bad we’re not compatible, huh?” He trotted down the steps and headed back to his place while she stood frozen on the spot.

  He opened his door, but stopped before going inside. “Nora?”

  “Yeah?”

  “When you crawl under the covers and touch yourself while thinking about that kiss, make sure to call out the name Eli Hardin.”