And my heart puddles to mush on the floor, because goddamn if that isn’t the most lovely thing I’ve ever heard.
“This is perfect,” I tell him as my eyes flit to the ice-skating rink in front of us.
Because not only has he taken me to do something fun and lighthearted, but it’s also about twenty-five minutes away from Packton. Being two towns over means we probably won’t bump into anyone we know, which is just fine with me. The rink is also suspiciously empty.
“Is it an off night or something?” I ask, looking around.
Truly, aside from an employee or two, I see no one else around. And it’s a Saturday evening.
Walker grins up at me. “So, I may have rented the place out just for us …”
“Walker!” I guffaw, because the gesture is pretty grand. “You didn’t have to do that.”
He shrugs as if it’s no skin off his back. Which it probably isn’t, or a drop in the bucket financially. “I think you’ve been through enough in public the last week, you deserve to have some unchecked fun. Plus, I like it better when I get you alone.”
When he offers me his hand so we can clomp down the bleachers in our skates, I take it. Something inside me gives way to more emotion, if that’s even possible, because he really put thought into this date.
“I can’t remember the last time I went ice-skating. I’m a summer girl at heart, so if I fall, I’m taking you down with me,” I tell him.
“Hawaii, I remember.” He taps his temple as we step out onto the ice. “Do you miss it?”
My feet are shaky, my balance not nearly as good as Walker’s, but he grips my hand in his as we slowly start to make our way around the circular rink. I find it a bit freeing, skating like this, even if I’m not good at it. There is something childlike and romantic about going ice-skating in the winter, especially at this small-town rink that’s outside underneath trees twinkling with fairy lights. It’s a magical setting for a first date, and after all I’ve been through, Walker is kind of making me feel like a princess.
“I do, actually. I mean, I haven’t been back in years, but it’s … there is no place on earth like Hawaii. Have you been?” I ask, loving the closeness between us.
He nods, taking my arm in his so that we’re even closer. “Once, about eight years ago. It was so beautiful, that I do remember. You think you’ll go back soon?”
Sighing, I don’t want to delve too deep. Tonight is supposed to be a fresh start, and if I start talking about my domestic violence case and divorce, it will just put a sheen of animosity over the whole thing. I don’t want doom and gloom.
So, instead, I answer with what I’d like to happen. “I don’t know that it will be anytime soon, but I’d love to take the girls. They’ve never been, and we haven’t gotten back to California to my parent’s house in almost two years. A West Coast trip is definitely in order. My family has a coffee plant on Oahu, it’s just the most picturesque place you’ve ever been. Oceans there don’t look the same as the Jersey shore,” I joke, because I know he’s been there, too.
“Wildwood is definitely not up to Honolulu’s standards.” He chuckles. “How are the girls doing? They’re hilarious, by the way.”
Thinking about my daughter’s just makes my whole face light up. “God, they’re just pistols, aren’t they? I have no idea how they got to be such little personalities, but they’re … thriving, I’d say. One good thing about being an athlete’s kid is that you don’t really notice when one parent is gone a whole lot.”
“I get that. My dad was gone on a lot of road trips, for a lot of my childhood. It makes it hard to miss someone who is constantly leaving for the airport or getting home past bedtime. I always swore I’d never be like that. I guess I’ll have to have kids to put that into practice.” The tone of his voice is a little sad.
“Why are you single?” It pops out in a silly manner, but I’m serious when I ask it. “I mean … don’t take this in a weird way, but I’d totally expect you to carry on the Callahan name, play the super dad role, have some gorgeous wife waiting at home.”
I’ve often wondered why he’s stayed a bachelor. Walker isn’t old by any means, but at thirty, I guess I feel like I’m so much older than those around me. I was a married woman and a mom for most of my twenties, and so when someone the same age as I am doesn’t even appear to be settling down, it strikes me as weird. I don’t say that to be judgmental, it’s just my own experience making my view warped. I know it’s completely normal for a thirty-year-old man to be single, but one like Walker? I’m surprised he hasn’t been scooped up and procreated with.
The lean-muscled giant next to me skates in front, then turns to meander backward while he talks to me. It looks so effortless and easy, though if I tried that I’d be falling on my face.
“I just never put much effort into dating, I guess. Never really found anyone who I thought was worth it. Until you, that is.”
Something unreadable passes over his face and my heart stutters, because it doesn’t sound as if he’s talking about the amount of time we’ve been seeing each other since the night he rescued me from Shane.
“Well, I’m glad I finally came to my senses. And that you were still interested when I finally did.”
“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to take you out. Or to hear you say that.” He’s dead serious, and my stomach flips.
The rest of the night goes so well, I forget to be nervous. Or self-conscious, or patrol what I’m saying. It’s shocking, how comfortable I feel with Walker considering my history with men and relationships. It’s like that strange phenomenon people talk about; when you’re not looking for the right person, or maybe actively avoiding being in a relationship, they’ll just appear and everything will click. That’s how being around Walker and being on a date with him feels.
We talk about everything and nothing. We laugh hysterically as he tries to throw a trick and falls on his butt. He holds my hand, pulls me around the ice, and even throws a Frank Sinatra song on his phone in the back pocket of his jeans. After we’ve exhausted ourselves skating, Walker lays out a little picnic of sorts on the bleachers. He’s prepared spiked hot chocolate to warm us up, with big fluffy marshmallows, and we split a delicious chicken panini, spicy mustard-seasoned brussels sprouts, and some locally made chocolate truffles which I could eat all night.
It’s not the date I would have expected at all, but I think that’s why I love it so much. Just like Walker, it’s unique, small town, but beautiful in its simplicity.
And as he drives me home, with our hands joined on the center console between us and the Bailey’s from the hot chocolate warming my veins, I feel like a teenager falling head over heels for the first time in my life. In one night, Walker has managed to erase a lot of the mistrust and skepticism I have about love and relationships. That in itself is a miracle.
Walker holds my hand all the way up to the door, where the single outdoor lamp on the small porch of my condo is the only source of light. I know what’s going to happen before it does, but it doesn’t make me any less nervous.