When It's Forever (Always Faithful Book 3)

by Leah Atwood

  “Hi.” He stood with his hands in his pocket and not a trace of his normal confidence.

  She looked beyond him and didn’t see his truck. “Where’s your truck?”

  “I walked over.”

  “What’s up?” She leaned against the doorframe.

  “Are you free tonight?” He cleared his throat. “And if so, can I take you to dinner?”

  Why was he acting so weird? They’d been out to eat a few times together—it wasn’t a big deal. “I’m free. Where were you thinking?”

  “Some place nice. Like we’d go for a date.”

  Her mouth formed an O. “Would this be a date?”

  He nodded and offered a half-smile. “I thought if I asked in person, you’d be more willing to accept.”

  She let out a low breath and crossed her arms. “I don’t know…”

  “No pressure. Just a nice evening out.”

  All the reasons she shouldn’t go surfaced to the forefront of her mind, but she couldn’t deny the part of her that wanted to say yes. “What time?”

  “When’s good for you?”

  “Is six too early? Lately, I’m in bed by the time I used to leave for a night out.”

  “Six is perfect.” His sincere smile melted her doubts. “Bring a light sweater.”

  “Where are we going?”

  “It’s a surprise. I’ll pick you up in four hours.” He winked—which made her stomach flip—then walked away before she could answer.

  A wave of giddiness burst in her, competing with her nerves. A date? She hadn’t gone on one in months. Her spirits fell. What was she going to wear? Regular clothes didn’t fit her anymore, and none of her maternity outfits were suitable for a date. They went straight from at-home casual to business attire with nothing in between.

  Time to call in the reserves.

  She ran—briskly walked— to the living room and grabbed her phone. Thumbing through her recent calls, she found Rysa, and selected her number.

  “I need help,” she blurted out as soon as the line connected.

  “Is the baby okay?” Concern weighed down Rysa’s tone.

  “Oh goodness, yes. I’m sorry.” She took a second to catch her breath. “I do need help though, but not with the baby. Not directly, at least.”

  “What’s going on?”

  “Jared asked me on a date. A real date.” Her tone came out more frantic than the situation warranted, and her dramatics snapped her out of her nervousness, causing her to laugh. “I don’t have anything to wear.”

  Rysa laughed. “You have a closet that’s bigger and more packed than anyone I know. How is it possible you don’t have anything to wear?”

  She blew out a hard breath that moved a hair from her face. “They don’t fit me with this growing baby.”

  “I’ve got you covered. Are you at home and what time is he picking you up?”

  “Yes, I’m home and six.” She glanced at the clock. Time ticked away.

  “Where is he taking you?”

  “It’s a surprise, but he said to bring a light sweater.”

  Rysa’s smile came through in her voice. “I have the perfect solution. Hold tight, and I’ll be there soon.”

  “Thank you.”

  While waiting for Rysa, she stewed over the night ahead. If she’d had any self-control, she would have said no, but she liked how she felt when Jared came around. He listened to her and made eye contact. He treated her with respect and never made her feel less of a person. She’d even opened up to him about her past and the dysfunctional childhood she’d had.

  Then there’d been the way he looked at her today. He’d wanted her to say yes because he wanted to spend time with her. Not for reasons other men had. They’d made that mistake already and had a baby on the way to show for it, but after all that, he still wanted to be around her. It was a healing balm to a girl’s fractured ego.

  A smile crept to her mouth. She needed to stop focusing on the negatives and the what-ifs and learn to enjoy the gifts that came her way. She wouldn’t follow in her mother’s steps. In the small glimpses she’d had of a different lifestyle, she knew she couldn’t go back.

  Rysa showed up fifteen minutes after five o’clock. She had a garment bag draped over her arm as she rushed through the door. “Sorry, I’m late. It took forever to check out.”

  Sybil eyed the bag. “Please tell me you didn’t spend money on an outfit for me.”

  “I most certainly did.” Rysa flashed an unashamed smile and walked to the kitchen. “Wait until you see it.”

  “What did you get?”

  “You’ll see.” Rysa couldn’t stop grinning.

  “What?”

  Rysa expelled a breath. “I have a confession. After you called me, I called Jared to find out his plans. I wanted to make sure what I had in mind wasn’t too casual.”

  “You called him?” Her mouth gaped. “He’s going to think I’m ridiculous and can’t dress myself.”

  “Nothing of the sort. I played it off that you can’t have shellfish because of the pregnancy and I didn’t want the date ruined because he took you somewhere where you couldn’t have anything.”

  She rubbed her temples. “But I can have shellfish as long as it’s cooked.”

  “He doesn’t know that.” Rysa laughed and clapped Sybil’s shoulder. “You’re going to enjoy tonight, and he didn’t think anything of me calling. Trust me.”

  “All right.” She tamped down her irritation. Rysa had only been trying to help, and Sybil appreciated her efforts, even if they embarrassed her.

  Rysa held up her hands, then moved them as she spoke. “You need an outfit that will grow with you and is also versatile.” She grabbed the bag and lifted it over a hanger. “Thus, I introduce you to your new best friend—the maxi dress.”

  “That’s genius. Why didn’t I think of that?” She took the dress from Rysa and held it to her body. “The solid black will help disguise my belly.”

  “Girl, don’t even think about hiding that bump. Enjoy being pregnant and having that belly.” Rysa reached over and tugged at the fabric. “It’s not a maternity dress, but it’s very forgiving, and you’ll probably be able to wear it all the way until birth and after.”

  “I love it. Thank you.” Clinging to the dress, she fought not to cry. Hormones were getting on her nerves. “You’re the best.”

  “There’s more.” Rysa pulled a denim jacket from a bag that had been hiding behind the other. “instead of a sweater, wear this over it. I know you already have a regular one, but this is a maternity one and it’s super soft. The associate said it’s very stretchy and comfortable but doesn’t lose its shape.”

  Sybil took it and slipped her arms through the sleeves. “Oh my goodness. This is so comfortable. It feels like I’m wearing a sweatshirt.”

  “Glad you like it.” Rysa made a fleeing motion with her hands. “Go try it on.”

  Padding to her room, Sybil said a prayer of thanks for Rysa. She didn’t know who she was praying to, but it only seemed right to acknowledge her gratitude. She changed into the new outfit, amazed at the result. Cute and flirty, yet completely modest—a new concept for her on a date.

  “I could sleep in this outfit,” she told her reflection. “It’s that comfortable.”

  Before she walked the runway for Rysa, she found a pair of sandals in her closet that complemented the dress. Fortunately, despite it being mid-October, she hadn’t had to give up her open-toed shoes yet. Once she did, she’d have to go shopping for some pregnancy-friendly footwear.

  Rysa came down the hallway and knocked on the open bedroom door. “Can I see?”

  “Sure. Come in.”

  “Love it.” Rysa winked. “Jared will, too.”

  “What about my hair?”

  “Pull it into a loose ponytail. It’s supposed to get breezy tonight.”

  Sybil arched a brow. “Am I going to be outside?”

  “You’ll find out.” Another grin spread Rysa’s lips.

&
nbsp; “You’re enjoying having this secret, aren’t you?” She put a hand on her hip and shook her hand as a mother would to a child.

  “No, but I do enjoy seeing you happy. I’m excited for you.”

  Chapter Nine

  Jared checked his outfit for the eighth time. He hadn’t been on a real date in over two years. Not one that mattered. Were his khakis and a chambray button-down good enough? He’d purchased new shoes for tonight, and the insoles didn’t form to his feet yet.

  If he hadn’t been impulsive, he could have asked her out for a day next week. That would have given him more time to prepare. But, waiting had never been his forte. Once he got an idea, he ran with it.

  He checked his phone. Five minutes to six. Time to get going. He shoved his phone and wallet into his pants’ pocket then grabbed his keys from the counter. Taking a deep breath, he walked to the door. Turned right back around.

  A small bouquet of flowers sat on the counter. He’d picked them out at the florist next to the shoe store. Another impulse, but one he didn’t regret, especially if it made Sybil smile. She’d spoken of her insecurities, but he sensed they ran deeper than she admitted. He wanted her to know her worth, that she wasn’t the sum of her past mistakes or bitter childhood.

  His renewed relationship with God had helped him out of a pit deeper than he’d been able to crawl out of on his own. The freshness hadn’t worn off, and he prayed it never did. Because he’d experienced the life-changing power of leaning on Him, he wanted the same for Sybil.

  But he’d have to take it slow and approach it with caution. Any talk of church made her skittish, the same with her friend Rysa. He didn’t know the whys, but he intended to break through the walls.

  All that aside, his primary objective for tonight was to spend time with Sybil. Yes, he wanted her to find peace in God and to know her value, but they didn’t play as ulterior motives for the date tonight.

  Plain and simple, he liked her. A sweetness lurked behind the façade she’d erected. Her quips and easy comebacks made him laugh and kept conversation interesting. She was a complex woman, but he looked forward to unraveling the layers to find the true Sybil.

  He grabbed the flowers—he’d paid extra for the set already in a vase—and ran out the door. As he pulled into Sybil’s driveway a minute later, he cringed, realizing he’d forgotten to lock his front door. Making a stop back at his house wasn’t the way he’d hoped to start the evening.

  Don’t let the small things get you down. He took his conscience’s advice and reached for the flowers. Holding them in one hand, he rang the doorbell with the other.

  Sybil opened the door. A bashful smile flitted across her face. “Right on time.”

  “These are for you.” He handed her the flowers, watching for her reaction, hoping to see a brighter smile.

  “Thank you.” She lifted them to her nose, then immediately began sneezing. “Oh, no.”

  “What?” His chest tightened in fear that he’d made a monumental error.

  “It’s been so long since anyone’s given me flowers, that I forgot I’m allergic to baby’s breath.”

  “I’m so sorry. I had no idea.” He reached to take them back. “I’ll get rid of them.”

  “No.” She pulled them back to her. “They’re beautiful, and I appreciate your thoughtfulness. If I don’t get too close to them, I should be fine.”

  Judging by her initial strong reaction, he wasn’t convinced, but who was he to say anything? “Next time, I’ll remember. Any other allergies I should be aware of?”

  “Cefaclor, but I doubt you’ll ever need to know that.”

  He furrowed his brows. “What is that?”

  “An antibiotic that makes me break out in hives.”

  “I’ll tuck that information away for the future.” He allowed his gaze to travel over her, lingering at the small swell of her stomach. “You look great, by the way.”

  “Thank you.” Her shy smile reappeared, and she lowered her gaze to the flowers. “I’ll put these on the counter, then we can go.”

  After several hitches—the allergic reaction and locking his door—they were on their way. He drove off the side roads and onto Highway 24, following it beyond Camp Lejeune and going into Swansboro.

  “How far are we going?” Sybil watched out the windows, taking in the sunset’s reflection on the water.

  “Not much further.”

  Their destination came into view—The Riverside Bistro. Thirty seconds later he pulled into a small parking lot to the side of a two-story house which had been converted to a restaurant. Reservations were required, not from a lack of space, but due to the owner’s wish to maintain a private setting for patrons. Jared had been lucky to call the restaurant minutes after they’d received a cancellation.

  “This is beautiful.” Sybil’s gaze shifted from the restaurant to the White Oak River it sat beside. “I’ve never been here, but every time I pass it, I think how beautiful and romantic it is. The candles lit in the window, and the gently rippling water make it a scene straight from a movie.”

  He dared sliding an arm around her waist as they walked through the gravel. “I’m glad you approve.”

  “I would have enjoyed any place you chose.” She cast a fond smile his way, and his heart responded with hard thuds against his chest.

  Slow down. You’re still in a learning stage. Taking a calming breath, he kept his arm around Sybil, escorting her up the stairs and into the entry.

  Once inside, they followed the hostess up a gorgeous winding staircase. Each floor had only five tables, and there were two outside on the deck. He would have preferred dining inside and walking on the pier afterward, but the canceled reservation was for outside on the second-floor balcony, and beggars couldn’t be choosers.

  When their hostess led them out the rear door and onto the deck, Sybil’s smile broadened.

  “I love outdoor dining, especially when the weather’s this perfect.”

  Thank You, Lord, for being in the details. “I’m glad you like it.”

  After they’d been seated, he picked up the menu and skimmed it. “Their steaks are hand-cut and all the seafood is locally caught when possible.”

  “I’ve heard nothing but great reviews about it.” She inhaled and released the breath at a slow pace. “The smells coming from the kitchen are making me hungry.”

  “Would you like an appetizer?”

  “I’ve always had a weakness for crab dip, and I bet it’s amazing here.”

  “Your wish is my command.” He paused and twisted his lips. “Wait, isn’t shellfish off limits?”

  A hearty laugh erupted from the depths of her stomach. She covered her mouth, composed herself, then shook her head. “If you’re referring to the call from Rysa earlier, then rest assured, that was a ruse and shellfish is safe for me to eat.”

  His stomach twisted a notch—he didn’t like being the butt of a joke. “What kind of ruse?”

  Sybil must have seen his dismay and rushed to assure him. “Nothing serious. I called her in a snit, and melodramatically claimed I had nothing to wear. She called you without my knowledge to find out where we were going so I’d wear appropriate attire.”

  Her explanation placated him, and he admitted to himself his own reaction had been overblown. His ego also received a boost in knowing that she’d worried about what to wear. It meant she cared, at least to some degree. “So, you can have shellfish?”

  “Yes. It’s fish that are high in mercury that are off-limits.”

  “Like tuna and swordfish?”

  She nodded. “To be honest, all the ones that are off limits are my least favorites, so it’s easy to abide by that rule. Caffeine and lunch meat are more difficult.”

  “I appreciate the care you’re taking for our baby.” He grinned. “Here’s a deal—the day you give birth, I’ll run out and get you everything you want that’s been on the no-no list.”

  Laughing, she held out a hand. “It’s a deal.”

  Th
ey shook on it, and he returned his attention to the menu. “Hmm, steak or seafood?”

  Her eyes twinkled. “How about the rib eye with crab meat on top?”

  “I like the way you think.”

  “Ooh, they also have a steak topped with shrimp scampi.” She laid her menu aside. “That’s what I’m getting, and I’m not looking anymore, or I’ll keep changing my mind because it all sounds tempting.”

  He debated between the salmon Oscar and porterhouse topped with his choice of seafood. When their waitress approached, he gave their appetizer order, plus Sybil’s meal choice. “If you had to choose, would you get the salmon Oscar or porterhouse with stuffed butterfly shrimp?”

  “That’s easy.” The waitress’s eyes lit up. “Both are great choices, but out stuffed butterfly shrimp are award-winning. Five years in a row, they’ve been voted the best on the crystal coast.”

  “That’s what I’ll take, then.” He handed her the menu. “Thank you.”

  “Have you ever been crabbing?” Sybil asked out of the blue, a few minutes later after their drinks and a bowl of yeast rolls had arrived.

  He chuckled at the randomness. “Wyoming doesn’t offer any spots for that.”

  “You’ve been in North Carolina ten years, haven’t you?”

  “I feel old when you put it that way.”

  “Watch it, Buster. You’re only a year and a few months older than me.” She fluttered her lashes and sipped her water.

  “I didn’t say I am old, only that I felt old. Big difference.” He shot her a smug grin. “Have you been?”

  “Not in years. My mom took me a few times when I was little.” She stared over his shoulder, her gaze fixed on the horizon. “Those are some of the rare happy memories that I have.”

  His heart went out to her. Kids should be protected, not drawn into their parents’ drama. “Did you catch any?”

  “Some.” A bittersweet smile replaced her frown of seconds earlier, and she nodded in the direction of the patio door. “Speaking of crabs, here comes our dip.”

  They fell into silence while they ate, making small comments occasionally that revolved around their meals. What conversation they had remained light and unintimidating. They declined dessert, he left a generous tip with payment, and then they walked down the wooden steps to the pier.