Besides, how bad could a non-date with this guy be?
9
Nova
Well, this is a disaster.
The pungent smell of aged grapes permeates the air around me. Cold burgundy liquid seeps into my green dress unapologetically.
Grey sits there with his mouth open, eyes guilt-riddled. “Nova, I’m so sorry.” The waiter who just turned over a full glass of wine on me emerges with a stack of towels and our desserts.
“Accidents happen. Don’t worry about it,” I trail off. Tell that to your green dress.
“About that,” Grey starts, cut off by what I’m sure is searing pain. “Holy f—dude, what the hell?”
“I was trying to make it right,” the waiter hisses at him.
“By scalding me!?” Grey cries out, standing by the seat he just vacated. “My God, I don’t know where the frozen skin ends or the burnt skin begins.” He attempts to brush away the steaming blackberry cobbler and cold vanilla ice cream the waiter just knocked into his lap, leaving behind a mangled purple-and-ivory mess.
“I’m still keeping the money,” the waiter grumbles as he storms away to get more napkins. At least, I hope so.
I’m still keeping the money. I ponder his words as my non-date continues to make an even bigger mess on his clothes. “Grey?”
He looks at me, catching the suspicion in my eyes, which causes his own to lower.
Bingo. “Did you pay that waiter to spill my wine on me?”
“I did no such thing.” His denial is stern, but two years in a classroom can teach you a lot about extracting the truth. I school my expression and smooth it into the lie-detector one. He notices—and cracks like an egg. “I paid him to spill your wine on me.”
What the hell? “Why would you do that?” He opens his mouth, but I stop him with a raised hand. “And be honest.”
Drinking in the sight of the dessert stains he now dons and the wine I’m wearing, he falls into the seat and blows a raspberry in frustration. His forearms find purchase on the table’s edge as he gathers his thoughts, bringing his fingertips together. “I just wanted the night to end a little sooner.”
Alrighty, then.
“It’s not that you’re bad company or I haven’t enjoyed hanging out with you, but…”
My lips press together in understanding, causing the corners of my mouth to tilt up. “There’s somewhere else you want to be?”
His blond head shakes back and forth. “Don’t get me wrong, Nova. You’re great.” His grayish-green eyes now carry a burden deep within them. “There’s someone else, though. Maybe. I think...”
“That’s a lot of uncertainty,” I muse.
His mouth purses as an exasperated breath leaves it. “It’s complicated,” he tacks on, his laugh sounding empty. “So damn complicated.”
“I know what you mean,” I nod in commiseration. “And it’s okay. Other than a ruined dress, it’s been great getting to know you better.”
He glances down at his crotch and the mess covering it, a sigh of consignment leaving him. “Likewise.”
Several memories of crazy hijinks and Lincoln’s accident-prone incidents at Baked & Brewed flash before me. Thinking about what I know is waiting on me and what I hope is waiting for him, I offer a solution to end this disaster of epic non-dating proportions. “How about you drop me off by Baked & Brewed on your way?”
His brow quirks. “On my way where?”
“To wherever she is.”
Pearly whites shine in the dim light of the restaurant. “You’re not mad?”
“Nah. I had a fallback plan too.”
“That so?” Mischief drips from his question.
“Yelp. Now Harper doesn’t have to pretend that there’s a burnt biscotti travesty.”
His loud, amused chuckle wraps around us both. “Why would that be such a big deal?”
“Let’s chat as you drive,” I say, grabbing my bag as he tosses several bills on the table. We climb into the truck and get settled, careful not to add insult to injury—or stickiness to seatbelts. Clicking them in place, he starts up the engine. When he pulls into traffic, he motions as if to give me the floor. “So, Grey… How would Kasen Construction like some prime advertising space in a soon-to-be packed hub of community Christmas spirit?”
After chitchatting about the Soiree and what it would mean to Baked & Brewed to have Kasen Construction’s partnership, we fill the rest of the time talking about the kids, Silverton, and several other random topics. Grey even divulges a little bit about the special woman who has him by the heartstrings. Hearing him gush about her the way he does, I sure hope she can see what a wonderful man he is and appreciate him the way he deserves.
Parking a few spots away from the coffeehouse, I invite Grey in to pack him down with two helpings of our daily coffee and biscotti combo—to go, of course. The shop's door is propped open as this beautiful autumn weather has recently given us a chance to let fresh air in during the evening hours. The only people who should be in the shop now is Vera Kay and the family, so when I hear raised voices filtering through the doorway, I give Grey a look before sprinting towards the door.
“You ruined it, Henry!” Clay yells as Henry cowers behind Hadley.
“He didn’t mean to, you jerk,” she bites back, poking him in the chest. “He only dropped it because he was trying to protect it from you two idiots!”
“Well, Griffin started it,” he counters, casting a glare at his big brother.
A big brother who isn’t having any of it. “That was payback for elbowing me in the ribcage earlier, butt lick.”
Clay’s face grows red. “Don’t call me a butt lick, butt munch! I only did it because you waved at him.”
“Boys, you need to calm down right now,” Vera Kay scolds, motioning for Harper to go get their dad, who probably just took the real trash out.
“I like Coach Kasen,” Griffin fusses around the others who stand in between him and Clay. “You’re only mad because you think he’s gonna steal away Nova.”
I share a look with Grey, whose face turns pale.
“I don’t care,” Clay counters. “She’s ours! He can’t have her.”
“Well, she’s out with him, not Dad.” Ouch. “We’ve already had two moms. You wanna lose her too?” The hurt in Griffin’s cryptic words makes my heart ache for him.
Clay, however, doesn’t seem to share my sentiments. “Shut up, you stupid—”
Scott bursts through the door with Harper hot on his heels, immediately placing himself between the two. “Boys, that’s enough!” his voice booms, ushering in a thick blanket of quiet. Time stands still for a moment as we all stare at Scott and the two boys. He puts his hands around their biceps and drags them to a row of tables. Placing one at one end of the section and one at the other, he dares them to say another word or move from their spot, anger rolling off him in waves. “You know better than to carry on like this.” Their shoulders slump slightly, the effects of their dad’s words weighing heavily on them. “And you absolutely will not act like this when Nova and Coach Kasen get back. Am I clear?”