Rm w/a Vu

by A. D. Ryan

  “Too long,” I sigh against his neck. “I was far too excited about tonight.”

  “You and me both.” He sets me back on my feet and kisses my lips softly. “What do you say we head home?” I nod once in response, and he takes my bag and leads me by the hand back to the car.

  “So, what exactly are we going to do tonight?” I inquire as we pull out of the parking lot. He’s silent, staring a little more intently than usual, and it begins to worry me. Does he have to postpone our date for a work-related issue? “Greyston?”

  “Sorry.” He smiles and places a hand on my thigh. “I had a couple of ideas, but I’d be interested to hear a few of yours, as well.”

  “Oh.” He’s caught me off-guard, but in a good way, because this means he isn’t postponing our first date. “Um, I don’t know. Dinner and a movie?” He laughs, making me nervous again. Was I showing my age with my suggestion? Did he want to do something a little more…grown up? “What? No good?”

  “Quite the opposite,” he says, giving my thigh a gentle squeeze. “That was precisely what I was going to suggest.”

  “Oh yeah? Cool. So, what movie do you want to see?” I ask, placing my hand over his.

  “You pick,” he tells me.

  I shake my head. “No way. I got to pick our movie last week. It’s your turn.”

  With a chuckle, he turns a corner. “Well, I guess we’ll have to check movie listings when we get home. How about dinner? What are you in the mood for?”

  I contemplate this before humming. “I’m not sure. I’d be okay with theater popcorn, actually.”

  “Not a chance,” he disagrees with a smirk.

  “Why not? It costs just as much as any meal at a restaurant.” He knows I’m right—I can see it in the way he presses his lips together and narrows his eyes, but I get the impression he’s still not going to allow us eat popcorn for dinner…especially on our first date.

  “That’s beside the point,” he retorts lightly. “What kind of guy buys a girl popcorn for dinner on their first date?”

  “Uh, an awesome one.”

  “Why don’t we go to Different Pointe of View? I hear it’s amazing,” he suggests, turning to look at me.

  “Don’t you need reservations?” I’m stunned by his choice of restaurant, and don’t know what else to say.

  He only shrugs. “Probably, but the owner is actually a friend of my mother’s. I’ll give him a call and see what he can do.”

  When we arrive home, I head up to my room to put my things away, and Greyston goes into the study to power up his computer to check the movie listings. He’s just pulled up the theater’s site when I enter the room.

  “Find anything?” I ask, crossing the room and leaning on the desk next to him as he navigates his way to the listings.

  Without warning, Greyston grabs me around the waist and pulls me down until I’m sitting sideways on his lap. I squeal in delight and shock, and wrap my arms around his neck.

  “That’s better,” he says, one of his hands resting just above the curve of my ass and the other on my upper thigh. It’s terribly distracting.

  I shoot him a sly half-smirk and cock an eyebrow. “I’m sure it is. Now, what’s playing?”

  Together, Greyston and I scan the movie listings, and I’m totally cool when he chooses the latest superhero movie that has just come out.

  With the tickets for our movie bought and printing, Greyston calls the owner of the restaurant directly and asks if there’s anything he can do to get us in for dinner before our movie. He’s more than accommodating, even being sure to offer us the best seat in the house, when Greyston offers up a couple tickets to a football game.

  “Our reservations are for six,” he tells me, setting my phone down on the desk.

  “Sounds good. I’ll just go shower and get ready then.”

  He smiles and kisses me lightly. “All right. I’ll see you shortly.”

  Greyston and I part ways for the next little bit, and while I shower, he remains in the study and buries himself with work. Probably contracts or planning future trips or something.

  By five o’clock, I haven’t heard anything from Greyston. I’m almost ready and about to go off in search of him when I hear him call my name.

  “In here!” I reply from my closet.

  “You almost ready?” he asks from the hall just outside my room.

  I pop my head out of the closet, hands by my ears as I put in a pair of silver hoops. “I’m dressed. You can come in, you know.”

  “I actually have to go and change, too,” he tells me, his eyes roaming my body appreciatively.

  I smile, knowing that I made the right choice when I grabbed these jeans. They make my ass look phenomenal, and I paired them with a deep purple satin top. To dress my outfit up further, I added a long silver chain around my neck, and it falls between my boobs. Greyston’s eyes follow the chain, and he swallows thickly with appreciation.

  “I just wanted to be sure you were almost ready.”

  “Oh, okay,” I reply, letting my hands fall to my sides when I finish with my earrings. I run my fingers through my long brown hair, allowing it to flow over my shoulders and frame my face.

  I see him still standing there, staring at me like he wants to devour me, and my brain starts coming up with excuses to stay in for the night. It’s trying to sabotage me, plain and simple.

  I cut it off at the pass, and head back into my closet. “I just have to grab a pair of shoes, and I’ll meet you downstairs?”

  “Perfect,” he replies, his voice sounding a little thick. “Give me ten minutes.”

  I smirk from inside my closet, perusing the shoes and boots I own for the right pair, and wonder what exactly he might do in those ten minutes based on how he was just ogling my chest. “Take all the time you need.”

  After finding the perfect pair of heels, I head downstairs, shoes in hand. I stand by the front door and slip them on when I hear Greyston descending the stairs. I nearly choke on my breath when I see him in the same well-fitted jeans as before, but he exchanged his sweater for a white button up shirt and a black tie. On his feet is a pair of matte black dress shoes, and his dark hair is finger combed back. My knees threaten to buckle, and I wonder if I’m going to be able to walk in these shoes now.

  He’s in front of me in seconds, and I reach for him, grabbing his tie and thinking about pulling him in for a kiss that I’m sure will get out of hand. He’s stronger than I am, though. “We should go, or we’ll miss our reservation.”

  I nod once, reaching behind me for the doorknob and turning it. “Later, then.”

  Greyston exhales heavily and presses his forehead to mine, holding my gaze with his stormy blue eyes. “You can count on it.”

  The drive to the resort that houses the restaurant isn’t a short one, but the view once we arrive at the top of North Mountain takes my breath away.

  “This is incredible,” I whisper as we head into the main entrance and toward the restaurant.

  Greyston’s hand clasps mine, tucking it into the crook of his elbow as he escorts me through the restaurant doors and toward the hostess podium. “Better than popcorn?” he teases.

  I can’t help but laugh. “We’ll see.”

  The hostess looks up at us, smiling brightly. “Good evening. How can I help the two of you tonight?”

  “We’ve got a reservation under Masters,” Greyston informs her with a kind smile.

  She glances down at her reservation book, nods, and grabs a couple of menus. “Perfect. Right this way.”

  After hugging the menus to her chest, the hostess leads us to a table next to the floor-to-ceiling windows, and Greyston pulls my chair out for me before taking his seat across from me. I look out the window, my eyes going wide as I take in every last detail of the view from the mountaintop. Below us, I can see the Valley’s desert landscape and the bright lights of the city while the sun sets on the horizon.

  “Your server tonight will be Emma,” our hostess te
lls us. “Can I take your drink order? Perhaps some wine for the lovely couple?”

  “Oh,” I say, peeling my eyes from the amazing view. “Um, no thanks. I’ll just have water for now, please.”

  “I’ll have the same,” Greyston replies, looking toward me with a smile.

  I reach across the table, squeezing his hand. While I’m grateful that he’s willing to forego drinking if I can’t, I also can’t approve of the sacrifice. If I was twenty-one, I would absolutely indulge in a glass or two of wine. “Please, have a glass of wine. Just because I can’t, doesn’t mean you shouldn’t be able to indulge.”

  He raises his eyebrows, looking at me in a way that makes me wonder if he thinks I’m testing him. I laugh softly. “You’re sure?”

  “Yes. I’d feel guilty if you didn’t.”

  Greyston looks back to the hostess and orders a glass of red wine. When the hostess leaves, I open the menu and gasp, looking up at Greyston with wide eyes.

  “What is it?”

  My eyes move between his and the menu a few times. “Have you seen these prices?” I demand softly so as not to offend anyone within earshot. “Maybe the popcorn would’ve been a more reasonably priced meal.”

  All he does is laugh. He laughs. Like this is no big deal.

  “Enough with the popcorn. There’s no way in hell I am going to let that happen.” He glances back at his menu and shrugs. “Besides, these prices aren’t so bad considering the restaurant and the beautiful scenery.

  I lean forward until my chest is pressed against the menu. “Greyston, I barely make minimum wage. This is crazy. I mean, thirty-five dollars for fish?”

  Then he winks before offering me a smile I’m sure is meant to be reassuring. It’s not…at first. “True, but I’m willing to bet it’s amazing and worth every penny.”

  My cheeks warm, and I scrunch my nose. “You’re right. I’m being kind of a downer, huh?”

  “I never said that.”

  “It was implied,” I quip, dropping my eyes back to the menu.

  There’s a brief moment of silence before Greyston speaks up again. “I almost forgot to tell you that Callie’s mechanic was able to figure out what was wrong with your car. Apparently your alternator needs to be replaced.”

  That sounds expensive. I worry about the food prices again.

  “He’s ordered the new one and thinks your car will be ready in a couple days.”

  “That’s great,” I say, because it is, but I’m also mentally figuring out how much money I have in the bank.

  “Hi there,” our server greets happily, setting our drinks on the table. “I’m Emma, and I’ll be your server tonight. Have you decided on what to have yet?”

  I look up to Greyston and close my menu. “I have, if you have.”

  He nods. “I have. Go ahead.”

  I shift my gaze back to Emma and place my order. “I’ll have the lemon roasted garlic chicken, please.”

  Emma jots it down on her notepad and then turns to Greyston. He reaches across and takes my menu, handing them back to our server. “And I’ll have the filet mignon, please.”

  Offering us another smile, Emma heads off to put our orders in, leaving Greyston and me alone with the beautiful view. “This is amazing,” I repeat. “I know the night’s only started, but you should know that no one’s ever taken me anywhere like this before.”

  He doesn’t seem too surprised by my confession, but he inquires further, anyway. “So Ben never…?”

  My laugh fills the restaurant, gaining a little attention from the neighboring tables. “No. Ben never did anything unless there was some kind of direct payoff for him in the end. And taking me out for a thirty-dollar dinner would mean he was spending his precious money on someone other than himself.” I pause, feeling my blush deepen.

  “So, uh, how was your day?” I ask, sitting back and trying to change the subject.

  Greyston takes a drink of his wine before answering. “Good. Callie came over and we talked about Xander flying in next week.” The expression on his face changes instantly. He almost looks guilty and apologetic. “Actually, I needed to talk to you about something that Callie mentioned today.”

  “Oh?” There’s no denying how nervous I am based on his expression and tone.

  “I have to fly out to Chicago.”

  While I’m a little sad by this news, I have to wonder if he’s expecting a more extreme reaction. All he’ll get is my support. “When?”

  “Not until next Wednesday,” he rushes to explain. “I’ll only be gone a couple of days.” He pauses, waiting for my spirits to lift, most likely. “Actually, while I’m away, why don’t you see about getting us in for paintballing that weekend?”

  I don’t know if he thought this would cheer me up, but it definitely did. “Yeah?” I am definitely excited. “For how many?”

  “Let me talk to Callie and see if that’s something she would be open to.”

  “Okay,” I reply, feeling my sadness fading. “So that would give us an uneven number—you, Toby, Callie, Xander, and then me…” I pause for a moment, hesitant as an idea comes to mind. “Would you be opposed to me inviting Daphne along if that’s the case? To make the teams fair, of course.”

  “Sure, why not? I don’t see that being a problem.”

  My mood lifts, excited for this outing together. Soon our conversation slowly segues to dinner with our parents this Sunday. I’m definitely nervous about meeting Greyston’s folks, but I know it can’t be avoided forever.

  “What if they don’t like me?” I inquire nervously.

  Smiling, Greyston takes my hand across the table. Like always, the feeling of his thumb running over the back of it relaxes me. “They’re going to love you.”

  “And if they don’t? Then what?”

  He laughs. “Well, then I suppose my relationship with them is over.” I know he’s joking, so I force a light laugh.

  “I’m serious.”

  “They’ll love you because—” He stops suddenly. “Because you’re amazing and funny and bright.”

  I can’t stop myself from blushing when he says the things he says. I can only shake my head and smile through it. “You’ve really got flattery down pat, huh?”

  With a shrug, he says, “I like to think of it as one of my stronger traits.”

  “I bet it works on all the girls.”

  “Only one that matters,” he quickly adds.

  “I rest my case,” I say with another laugh. I love how happy he makes me. It’s definitely not something I’m used to experiencing so regularly in a relationship, which I suppose is a good sign for us. “How is it you’re not taken?”

  Greyston smirks. “Oh, I’m quite taken with one girl in particular.”

  “I’m serious,” I retort with a playful giggle. “How were you single when we met?”

  The air shifts to one a little more serious—but only a little. “I’m a very busy man,” he explains. “Some women can’t handle how often my job takes me away. While it’s been less lately, it’s still more than most women sign up for when they get involved with me.

  “My last relationship ended about a year ago,” he continues. “We’d been together almost twice as long. Over the course of the first year, she started to show signs of being overly clingy. She took to picking fights with me every time I had to go out of town, and she told me I had to make a choice: my job or her. I loved my job, so the choice was easy.” I’m shocked to hear that Greyston had been with someone so selfish.

  “Because she wasn’t the first to tell me my job was a problem, I just decided I wasn’t going to date anyone seriously for a while.” He pauses, his eyes locked on mine, probably trying to glean my reaction from my expression. “I hope you understand that how I feel about you—even after only a short amount of time—far surpasses anything I ever felt for her, and I’d like to think that if you ever gave me the same ultimatum, I might choose differently.”

  I shake my head, touched by his admission. “That�
��s sweet, but I would never make you choose. I’d like to believe I’m not that selfish in nature. It’s your job, and while I might not relish the idea of you going away, I’m a big girl and can take care of myself.”

  Our food arriving puts our conversation on hold for the moment as Emma offers us some fresh-ground pepper. I accept, and we begin eating. “Oh, god,” I say, adding a little moan to it. “Okay, this is definitely better than popcorn.”

  When I open my eyes, I notice Greyston shift in his seat, and I smile. His laugh sounds a little nervous at first, but soon it’s genuine and hearty. “I’m glad to hear it.”

  During dinner, we talk about the movie Greyston chose. I admit, I don’t know much about the comic books or the characters, but I have enjoyed all of the other movies in the franchise that I’ve seen already. After I polish off the last of my chicken, Greyston asks if I want dessert. I look at him a little sheepishly. “Um, I’m kind of saving room for that popcorn still.”

  “No problem,” he replies with a grin. “I’d be okay with that, too.”

  Emma drops the bill on the table, and Greyston snatches it up before I have a chance to reach for it. Truthfully, it’s probably best I don’t look, because I’m pretty sure I’d pass out if I saw just how much our meal came to. I do reach into my purse for my wallet so I can pay for my share, though.

  “What do you think you’re doing?” he demands.

  “Paying for my dinner?”

  He shakes his head and pulls out enough cash to cover dinner and probably a pretty decent tip. “No, you’re not. I don’t know how that last asshat you dated did things, but I asked you out. Tonight is on me.”

  I don’t put up a fight; instead I embrace this new relationship dynamic with open arms. Having doors opened for me, chairs pulled out, dates paid for…a girl could get used to this. “Okay. Thank you.”

  By the time we leave the restaurant we’ve got about an hour until the movie. This is plenty of time, so Greyston doesn’t rush, instead allowing us both to enjoy the leisurely drive.