We talked about everything and nothing, savoring the meal as much as we did each other. Some might consider our conversations boring, but I considered it normal—so very normal and comfortable. Even though tonight was our first official date, I’d spent the last six months courting her in the most old-fashioned way. We got to know each other so well, conversations came easily now. I already knew her favorite color was purple, and that she like to read classic literature but considered Gillian Flynn and Clive Cussler her guilty pleasures. There was no awkwardness or first date jitters. As I continued to discover new things about her, I learned she was so much more than anything my imagination could conjure. We’d become friends before lovers, and perhaps that’s what had been missing in all of my previous relationships.
Emotion scorched my throat as I began to realize something else.
I was falling in love with her.
Her deep blue eyes were my ocean, and I wanted to drown in her. I wanted to hold her for the rest of my life and never let her go.
However, as soon as the thoughts hit, they suffered a quick and painful death as another reality set in. I couldn’t tell her how I felt anytime soon. She wasn’t ready—not even close. She may have come to trust me over the past few months but she still didn’t trust me enough to tell me one very basic thing—her true name. I contemplated whether I should bring it up but decided against it almost as soon as the thought came to mind. The evening was going great, and I wanted nothing to spoil our first official date. I’d waited months to get her to this point—I could bring up the subject of her name another time.
After our dinner plates were cleared, I reached across the table and took her hand in mine.
“There’s live music up on deck. Do you dance?”
“It depends,” she replied. One side of her mouth quirked up in a knowing smile.
“On what?”
“It depends on if I’m asked properly.”
I grinned and stood. Walking to her side or the table, I made a grand sweeping gesture with my arm and bent at the waist.
“Sparky, may I have this dance?”
“Why, yes, I think you may.”
24
Val (Gianna)
Pressing my palms down on the side rail of the boat, I closed my eyes and breathed deeply. The smell of the shore mingled with the mouthwatering aromas from dinner and the perfumed scents worn by the other guests on the dinner cruise. A pianist’s notes intertwined with the content chatter of those wandering the main deck. Twinkling lights crisscrossed overhead like electric spaghetti, illuminating the moonless night with the city skyline sparkling in the distance.
To describe the evening as perfect would be an understatement. Enjoying Derek’s company in such a tranquil setting was more than I could have asked for on a first date. Our conversation over dinner was an equal exchange, neither of us dominating the discussion, simply sharing pieces of ourselves in balanced harmony. It was as though he knew exactly what to do and say to put me at ease.
In his unassuming, patient way, Derek had gradually shown me what life could be like after Ethan. While we hadn’t officially been dating over the past six months, I had seen him nearly every day. He’d shown me around the city, exploring all the touristy and not-so-touristy spots. We perused flea markets in China Town and watched the fireworks over Coney Island. Never once did he cross a line—a perfect boy scout through and through. He allowed a bond of friendship and trust to slowly develop, and through it all, I had more fun than I’d ever had before in my life.
Standing next to me, Derek took in the sights and sounds of the night. He was so close, his heat stroked my skin. I didn’t know where things were going with us—if there was even an ‘us’ yet. I couldn’t see past tonight, but that was perfectly okay. I didn’t want to look ahead. The simple idea of knowing I could live again would make me forever grateful to the man standing beside me. He made me feel safe.
“It’s such a nice night. This view is beautiful,” I commented. Glancing up, I found him staring at me with an unreadable expression. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
His hand cupped my jaw and lifted my chin. I blinked disconcertedly at him. Coming into tonight, I hadn’t prepared myself for how the simplest of touches would make me feel. I didn’t know I would crave more of it from him. I wanted to lean into the warmth and allow it to dispel all the cold.
“Because you’re more beautiful than the view.”
The proverbial butterflies danced in my stomach again and I couldn’t prevent a flush from blossoming over my cheeks. Thank God it was dark and he couldn’t see.
“I’m sure you say that to all the girls who flock to your doorstep,” I teased and looked away. The thought of him dating women before me caused an unexpected pang of jealousy.
“No, I don’t, actually.”
“Oh, come on! Looking like you do, I find that hard to believe.”
“No, I mean, I don’t have a revolving door for women, Sparky. Sure, I’ve had my share of one night stands just like the next person, but I’m not a fling sort of guy—at least not by choice. I was serious about all the women I dated, even if they weren’t serious about me. And yes, I’ve told women they were beautiful before, but…” He trailed off. I looked back up at him, waiting for him to continue.
“But what?” I prompted.
“My answer is going to sound cliché.”
“Try me.”
“I’ve never told a woman they were beautiful and meant it like I do with you. You’re different.”
I raised a brow. “You’re right. Very cliché.”
He raked a frustrated hand through his hair and looked out over the water.
“I’ve watched you around the gym. If a male gets too close to you, I see how you visibly spook. You’re good at covering it up, but it’s there. You’re very cautious—even with me. It’s why I’ve kept Hana involved in our self-defense classes.”
I frowned, completely perplexed about what this had to do with telling me—or any other woman—that they were beautiful.
“What does that have to do with anything?”
Turning to face me, he placed two cautious hands on my hips.
“There’s always been this undercurrent between us I can’t explain. You’ve kept me at arm’s length for months now, and I’ve been patient. I don’t know what your story is, but I hope you’ll feel comfortable opening up to me one day. Until then, I don’t want to say or do anything that might scare you off. And well…when I say you’re beautiful, I don’t mean it in a superficial way.”
“What way do you mean it?”
My heart began to beat rapidly in my chest. I didn’t know why I pushed him to continue. I was afraid his answer would somehow cause a seismic shift in how we were together, both as friends and—assuming I could make it there—as lovers.
“At the risk of sounding like a damn poet, I’ll say it.” He closed his eyes and sighed. “You’re stunning. The beauty I see inside you is something I’ve never seen before in any other woman. You’re strong and there’s beauty in strength. But there’s fear inside you, too, and I’m afraid that fear will hold you back from exploring this thing that’s been growing between us.”