"If you don't mind my input," the waiter says, "I would recommend the ribeye. It's a much better cut."
She forces out a smile. "Fine. I'll have the ribeye. Thank you."
He leaves the table and I hold up my wine glass. "Should we toast?"
"Could you please not order for me again? And if you do, at least get my order right."
"You wanted the ribeye."
"I wanted the sirloin."
"Because you were worried about the price. Now would you stop arguing with me? You're bringing down the mood."
"ME? I think your little reunion with the hostess was—"
"Ivy. Can we just start this date over? " I nod at my raised wine glass. "I'm still waiting to make my toast."
She holds up her wine glass. "What are we toasting to?"
"To our third date. May it be just as magical as our first." I say it dramatically, like I'm in some Shakespearean play.
She bursts out laughing. "Magical? That's how you'd describe our first date? At Hoedowns and Rodeo Freddy's? And why are you toasting to our third date? What about our second? It's not worth including in your toast?"
"Our second date just started. There's not much to say."
"Okay." She's still laughing as she clinks glasses with me.
We sip our wine, and I lift my glass again. "Actually, I would like to make a toast regarding our second date."
"Go ahead." She holds up her glass.
"May my skills in the art of kissing improve to a level you find acceptable." She goes to clink my glass but I pull it away, smiling. "Correction." I lower my voice and lean toward her, my eyes locked on hers. "To a level that makes you weak in the knees. Wanting more." I pause. "Begging for more."
She backs away and I see her swallow, then she clears her throat, clinks my glass, and takes a big gulp of wine. Her face is flushed, and I know it's not from the wine, but from my words and the images they conjured up in her head.
"It's good wine," I say, setting my glass down. "Don't you think?"
She's quiet, still hung up on my words, but then she snaps out of it and says, "It's excellent. But you didn't have to take me here. It's too much money. This is a really expensive place."
"What good is money if you don't spend it?"
"I guess. If you have it." She looks down at the napkin in her lap, then adjusts the fork next to her plate.
"Is Nash not paying you enough?" I ask.
"What?" She looks up at me. "No. He pays really well. That's not what I meant when I said that."
"Then what do you mean?"
"I just...never mind." She takes another sip of wine.
"Ivy, I'm trying to get to know you here. So tell me what you meant."
"I don't want to talk about money problems during dinner."
"You have money problems? Then Nash isn't paying you enough. I'll talk to him tomorrow."
"Jake, don't. I mean it. He pays me more than any of the jobs I had before I started working for you guys. It's just that I have a lot of expenses and sometimes it's hard to keep up. I pay for my own bills, but I also pay for some of my dad's because his disability checks aren't enough. Liza said she could probably get me a job at Hoedowns for a few hours a week but—"
"No," I blurt out, the thought of guys leering at her in that tiny outfit making my blood boil. "Don't work there. The guys who go there are assholes."
She grins. "You're saying you're an asshole?"
"Just tell me you're not going to work there."
"I couldn't even if I wanted to. If some guy touched my ass, I'd yank him from his chair and kick him in the balls, which I'm guessing is frowned upon by management. I'd be fired before I could even finish my first shift."
I smile. "Is that my warning to never touch your ass?"
"Only if I'm your waitress at Hoedowns, which will never happen."
I'm taking that to mean she wouldn't mind me touching her ass. But not tonight. I need to take this slow.
"So going back to what you said earlier," I say. "Your dad's having trouble paying his bills?"
"I don't want to talk about it." She looks out the window at the skyline. "It's a nice view."
"Ivy." I touch her arm and she looks back at me. "Tell me what I can do to help."
"You can't help. I just need to find some more work. Do you know of any?"
"No. Sorry. If I had some extra hours to give you, I would, but right now, we don't have any."
She nods. "That's fine. I'll figure something out."
"I've been there, you know."
"Been where?"
"Struggling to make ends meet. The company hasn't always been successful. When I was younger, my dad struggled to pay our bills. My mom had to take care of us kids so she couldn't get a job. It was up to my dad to bring in the money, and sometimes he had to work day and night just to put food on the table. I know our situations are different but I'm just saying that I know how tough it is, so if you need help—with anything—just let me know."
"Okay." She half-smiles. I can tell she's embarrassed talking about this, but I needed her to know that I'll help in any way I can. My parents always taught us to help others, so if she needs something, all she needs to do is ask, but I know sometimes that's hard to do.
Ivy switches the topic back to work, asking about the other projects we have going on around the city. Then our dinner arrives and we end up talking about food. She tells me how she can't cook and lives on frozen dinners, which gives me yet another date idea. I'll have her over to my apartment and cook for her. I'm a pretty decent cook.
I learned how to cook after my mom died. My dad couldn't function and Nash had already moved out of the house so I took over the cooking for my younger brothers and me. Dad rarely showed up to dinner. He was too depressed to eat, and he was like that for a good five months, which was long enough for me to get good at cooking.
After dinner, Ivy says she's full but I insist we get dessert so we decide to split one. We order the caramel cheesecake and I watch as she puts tiny forkfuls in her mouth then slowly licks the fork. I don't know if that's just the way she eats cheesecake or if she's trying to torture me, but if she's going for the latter, she succeeded. Watching her tongue lick that fork has got me so hard I have to discreetly adjust my pants. And when dessert is done, I have to order another coffee to kill some time to avoid getting up and embarrassing myself.
"That was a great dinner," she says as we're waiting for the check. "Thank you for taking me here."
"You're welcome." Our hands are linked together on the table and she has a happy, content smile on her face, which I hope I'm responsible for. I like making Ivy happy. I have ever since I met her. When we worked on the Victorian, I'd sometimes bring in food for the crew and purposely buy Ivy's favorites because I liked seeing her face light up when she saw what I'd brought. She especially loved chocolate sprinkled donuts so I brought those in a lot.
Tonight has been a great night, aside from the hostess encounter. But other than that, it's been perfect. It started with that incredible kiss and just got better from there. Ivy and I talked all through dinner without any awkward pauses. It was easy, relaxed, and even though our dinner lasted for more than two hours, I feel like it ended too soon. I want more time with her. I don't want to say goodnight.
What is going on with me? Why am I acting this way? Why do I like this girl so much?
CHAPTER TEN
Ivy
"Jake parks in front of my apartment and cuts the engine.
"I'll just walk you to the door," he says.
I'm glad he didn't assume I'd invite him up to my apartment. It's only our second date. It's too soon for that. Although there's a tiny voice in my head telling me to bring him inside and do what I've been fantasizing about ever since we kissed. If he's that good a kisser, what's he like in bed?
Stop thinking about that, I tell the voice in my head, because that stupid voice is how I ended up dating one cheater after another. I keep picking the wrong guys becau
se I never listen to my rational side. The side that knows hot guys who sleep around are not boyfriend material. And yet here I am, on a second date with Jake and already looking forward to our third.
"You have plans tomorrow night?" Jake asks as we're standing in my lobby.
Should I say I do, just to get some time apart from him? Going out with him every night is too much. But I don't want to wait days to see him again. So what do I do?
"I'm going to a movie with Liza." It's the only excuse I could think of.
"What movie?"
"I can't remember." I have no idea what movies are playing. I don't pay attention because I never go to movies. "Just some romantic comedy she wanted to see."
"There aren't any romantic comedies playing. I checked when I thought I was taking you to the movies."
"Oh. Then it must've been something else.
"Ivy." He waits for me to look at him. "I told you to be honest with me. If you don't want to go out tomorrow, just tell me."
"I just think it's too many nights in a row."
"Then tell me that. Don't make something up." His phone vibrates in his pocket but he ignores it, which he's been doing all night. His phone is constantly going off and I wonder if it's girls calling and texting him. It can't all be work related.
"Are you having lunch with Nash tomorrow?" I ask, trying to get off the topic of me lying to him. I told him I wouldn't, and then I did it again. I must have problems telling guys the truth. Maybe that's why I keep ending up with guys who lie to me. Liars attract other liars.
"I won't have time to get over there. Austin needs help installing some flooring because the guy who was working with him got sick and won't be in tomorrow."
I love how Jake is always helping out his brothers. Nash is the same way. They're a close-knit family. They're always looking out for each other. And Mitch, their dad, is really nice. He talked to me just last week and told me what a great job I was doing. He didn't have to do that, but he did, and he complimented the other workers too.
"So you're back doing construction?" I tease. "You sure you can handle it after all the office work you've been doing?"
"Hey." His arms go around my waist and he tugs me closer. "I do plenty of construction. You just don't see it because I'm not working at the library. If you don't believe me, you can come with me this Saturday and watch me install tile with Bryce."
"You have to work Saturday?"
"Just in the morning."
"Okay, I'll do it. Can I help?"
"You want to help lay tile?"
"Yeah. I want to learn how because the bathroom at my dad's house needs to be updated and I'm going to try to do the tile myself to save money."
"Why didn't you tell me you were remodeling his bathroom?"
"It's not a remodel. I'm just going to update it for now, and then when I have the money, I'm going to have someone rip out the tub and put in a walk-in shower. The shower will be a lot easier for my dad to get in and out of with his back problems."
"Forget hiring someone. I'll do it for free."
"Jake, no. I'm not letting you do that. It's too much work and it takes too much time."
"Not if you help me. I'll get my brothers to help too. With the five of us, we can get it done in a weekend. Maybe not even that long. And to save money on supplies, you can look through our unused inventory and see if you like anything. We have cabinets, sinks, tile—all stuff that didn't get used on other projects."
I feel like I shouldn't accept his offer. It's too much and I don't feel right taking it. But the bathroom really needs to be updated and I don't have the money to hire someone.
"You'd really do this for my dad?" I ask. "You're not just saying that?"
"I'm a man of my word, which you would know if you spent more time with me." He says it jokingly but maybe he's right. Maybe I need to spend more time with him rather than making excuses not to see him. If I'm going to prove he's just another player who's only interested in sex, then I need to hurry up and prove it so we can end this. Except now, I'm no longer in a hurry to end this. And I'm starting to think maybe Jake's not just dating me for sex.
"I'll need to go over there and take some measurements before we start," he says. "And I should talk to your dad and see what he's thinking in terms of what he wants done."
"Okay. How about tomorrow?"
He chuckles. "What happened to wanting time apart? Or do you just want me to stop by his house and leave? Because that's fine. Just tell me."
"Um, no. We can go to his house around six and then maybe go to dinner."
"Sounds good. I'll stop by and pick you up." He smiles at me. "I think it's time to say goodbye."
Say goodbye? Is he in a hurry? I'm not ready for him to go.
"I guess it is getting late. Bye, Jake."
He doesn't move, his arms still circling my waist, his eyes fixed on mine. "That's not an appropriate goodbye. Someone recently told me that the rules of dating dictate that you kiss a girl at the end of a date. And that the kiss should be longer on the second date than the first."
"So what are you waiting for?" I ask, my heart pounding as I look in his eyes.
His hand goes behind my neck as he lowers his mouth over mine and kisses me with an unbearable softness in which his lips lightly brush against mine. His delicate touch makes every nerve ending on my lips stand at attention, wanting more, waiting for it. He presses a little harder but it's slow, deliberate. He knows what he's doing. He's an expert at this.
When I told him he needed to work on his kissing, it was a flat-out lie and he knows exactly why I said it. I was practically begging him to kiss me again, which was embarrassing but I didn't care. That kiss we had earlier was so mind-blowingly perfect that I had to do it again to make sure it was real. And now that I'm feeling his lips on mine again, it's confirmed. It's definitely real. He's either the best kisser on the planet, or he and I are made for each other when it comes to this.
Minutes pass and I know I should go upstairs but I can't seem to pull away, so we just keep going, standing here in the lobby, although I'm finding it hard to stand. My limbs feel all wobbly like I'm drunk, but I'm not. It's just him, and what he does to me with just a simple kiss. His hand creeps under my coat, sliding up my ribcage. My muscles tighten in anticipation, but then he stops, and his hand slides back down to my waist.
Why did he stop? I wanted him to keep going. I needed him to. I haven't been touched there, or anywhere, for almost a year.
"Jake," I whisper in between kisses. I'm about to tell him to continue doing what he was doing but then he slowly backs away.
"Goodnight, Ivy." He lets me go, then turns and walks to the door.
"Goodnight," I say as he leaves.
When I get up to my apartment, my phone rings. It's my sister.
"Hi, Liza. You just get off work?"
"Yeah. So tell me about your date!" She yells it into the phone. She's way too excited about this. She's been telling me to go on a date ever since I broke up with Ryker, saying I needed to get back on the horse, but neither one of us expected that horse to be Jake. I don't need that kind of horse. Jake's a wild stallion. I need a calm steady horse who prefers to stay in the stable, not run loose, looking for his next conquest.
"How'd you know I went out tonight?"
"Dad told me."
"Oh, great. So now you and Dad are talking about my dating life?"
"He asked me what I knew about Jake. He wanted to know what I thought of him. You know how Dad worries. He thinks every guy we date is a serial killer."
"Or trying to steal our virginity."
She laughs. "Oh my God. He doesn't seriously think we're still virgins, does he?"
"I think he does," I say, laughing.
"You used to live with a guy. In a one bedroom apartment."
"And I told Dad he slept on the couch."
She laughs again. "He is in serious denial. Anyway, tell me about your date."
"Jake took me to a really nice
restaurant downtown. We had drinks, dinner, dessert. We were there for over two hours."
"Two hours for dinner? It must've been going well. Did you have stuff to talk about for all that time?"
"Yeah. We talked a lot about work but other stuff too. It turned out to be a good date."
"And that surprises you?"
"Well, yeah. I mean this is Jake Wheeler. I assumed he'd spend all night staring at my breasts and giving me cheesy pick up lines trying to get me to sleep with him."
"But he didn't?"
"No. Well, he glanced at my breasts a few times but he's a guy, so that comes with the territory. But he didn't stare at them all night and he didn't try to sleep with me. After dinner, he took me back here, we kissed goodnight in the lobby, and he left."
"You kissed him?" she squeals. "You kissed Jake Wheeler?"
"Okay, calm down. It wasn't a big deal. It was just a kiss. That's what people do at the end of a date."
"Yeah, but you were so adamant about not letting him near you that I can't believe you let him kiss you."
"I never said he couldn't kiss me. I said no sex. I didn't ban kissing."
"Huh." She uses that tone she gets when she thinks I'm hiding something. But I'm not hiding anything. I told her the truth. Jake and I kissed. I just left out the details about it being the best kiss I've ever had, and that it wasn't just one kiss, but several minutes of deep, passionate, uninterrupted kisses in which our lips only parted long enough to take a breath.
But Liza doesn't need all those details.
"So you really like this guy," she says with a smile in her voice.
"I was able to tolerate him for an evening. I'd hardly call that liking a guy."
"I'm your sister. I can tell when you're lying. You like Jake, more than you're willing to admit, even to yourself. And he obviously likes you."
"Why do you say that?"
"Because the guy never dates a girl more than once. And he's already been out with you twice."
"Only because he's waiting for me to say yes to having sex with him. If I did it with him, it'd be over. I'd never see him again."
"So I guess the way to winning Jake's heart is to keep telling him no. That way, you'll keep going out and getting to know each other and maybe you two will end up together."
Give Us a Chance (Wheeler Brothers #2) Page 10