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Between Him and Us Page 7
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Easton laughed and shook his head. “Name one.”
I thought about it for a second. “I’ll have to get back to you on that.” I hid behind my menu, smiling with a giddy feeling in my chest. Easton’s sense of humor was another similarity to Tyler and a quality I found attractive.
“I think I’ll have what you’re having.” He closed his menu, and a few minutes later, our server approached our table. It took all but another minute for her to take our order and pass it along to the kitchen staff.
“This place is cozy.”
“It is,” I agreed, looking around at the pub that doubled as a sports bar. Dark mahogany wood dominated throughout, walls of mirrored glass, with the pub’s logo decorated majority of the space.
Our server came back with our sweet teas. I popped my straw in and took a sip.
“You never got to finish telling me your story last night,” I said while I held the straw at the corner of my lips.
“What if I finish my story after you tell me something about yourself?”
“Hmm . . .” I tapped my nails on the side of my mason jar. “What can I tell you that would be remotely interesting and not make you run for the hills?”
“That bad, huh?”
“I’ll let you be the judge of that.”
“Why don’t we start off with something easy, like oh, I don’t know, something you’ve never told a single soul.”
I let an easy smile pull at my lips. “Are you for real?”
“Why not, can’t be that hard?”
“Well, why don’t you start it off then? Let’s hear something you’ve never told a single soul.”
“All right, but if I tell you, do you promise you’ll tell me something?”
“Scout’s honor.” I bit the inside of my cheek to refrain from laughing.
“I bet you’ve never sold a single box of Girl Scout cookies in your life.”
“Maybe.” I shrugged. “Maybe not.” Easton shook his head, and I got another glimpse into the man I was starting to have a fondness for.
“Okay. Promise you won’t tell a single soul?”
”Promise.”
“No one in my family knows that I declined a full-ride soccer scholarship to the University of Washington.”
He leaned back into his seat, and our server broke the moment when she set our plates down and then asked if there was anything else we needed. Easton shook his head and thanked her. He grabbed the pepper shaker, and I didn’t like how he avoided looking at me.
“I feel like what I have to say will sound really silly now.”
“I don’t know, Lilly. I feel like I can talk to you, tell you anything, you know? I’m not sure why it feels this easy, but it does.”
I did know—sort of. It was easy to be around him, but then I felt bad. There he was, opening up and sharing something deep and personal, and I was going to tell him something that didn’t really matter one way or another.
“Your turn.” He dipped his sandwich in the au jus.
“Easton, why wouldn’t you share this with your family?”
“No way. You first. A deal’s a deal.”
“All right. Do you promise not to laugh or think I’m stupid?”
“Scout’s honor.” I narrowed my eyes playfully at him and then shrugged.
“Okay, okay. Ever since the trip I took to Vegas for spring break, I’ve wanted to become a casino dealer.”
He raised his eyebrows, slowly displaying a cocky grin. “We’ll have to make it a point to play poker sometime.” He winked. “We can start the stakes off low if you like.”
“You’re crazy if you think I’m going to play poker with you. Besides, blackjack is more my speed.” I pointed my finger at him. “I’m on to you, mister.”
The air around us went from heavy to light in a matter of seconds, and that was enough. We fell silent as we ate, but we did sneak glances between bites. For once in my life, the weight of my troubles seemed bearable.
After Easton took the last bite of his sandwich, he wiped his mouth with his napkin and glanced at his watch.
“Did you need to head back?”
“In a little bit.” He rubbed his stomach. “That was a really good sandwich, thanks for recommending it.”
“You’re welcome.” I pulled my wallet from my purse.
“I got it.”
“But you got our drinks last night.”
“And?” He smirked, and I knew I wouldn’t stand a chance at arguing with him. “You know, if you really want to make it up to me, you could always come over and hang out with me. I could cook us something. Do you like tacos?”
I loved tacos. Who in their right mind didn’t love tacos?
“Actually, that sounds great.”
“Yeah?”
“How could I pass up an offer of tacos?”
“Well, I wasn’t sure. I mean you don’t like coffee. So that right there tells me you aren’t normal.” He laughed again then tucked the bill and some cash under the corner of his plate. He stood and waited while I slid from my seat. Easton’s hand went to the small of my back; a gesture I was starting to look forward to.
Our walk back was quiet and comfortable, until we rounded the corner and stood in front of the flower shop.
“Did you want to come over tomorrow night, or is that too soon?”
“Tomorrow night is great. Is seven good?”
“Seven is perfect. Why don’t you give me your number?” Grinning, he pulled his phone from his back pocket and handed it to me.
I entered my number and sent myself a text before handing it back. He took a step backward.
I nodded and turned around, but then I smiled and tossed over my shoulder. “Seven o’clock.”
“Just buzz or call when you get here, and I’ll come down to let you in.” He took another backward step and held the door handle.
“I will.” I waved over my shoulder and then walked three blocks back to my car, wondering what in the hell I was getting myself into.
The buzzer sounded with a minute to spare. I did a quick survey of the area, making sure it was decent for a guest, for Lilly. Satisfied that there weren’t any stray articles of clothing anywhere, I headed down to let her in.
“You look nice.” Actually, she looked hot in a pair of tight black jeans and a white top. Simple but classy.
“Thank you.”
I turned the lock, secured the alarm, and naturally laid my hand on the small of her back. “This way,” I ushered her toward the stairs.
Having her walk up in front of me was either the best or the worst idea I’d ever had. The sway of her hips and how her tight jeans accentuated her petite figure made me want to sink my teeth into her backside. It was brutal having that sexy part of her body at eye level the entire twenty-odd stairs we had to climb.
“Make yourself comfortable.” I gestured to the stools lining the breakfast bar. “Would you like a beer or a glass of wine?”
“Shit,” she mumbled. “I forgot the beer in the car. I didn’t know what kind of dessert would pair well with tacos, so I got beer instead.” She turned as if to go back downstairs, but I waved her back and headed to the kitchen. “I have white wine and Stella. If those don’t sound interesting, I have water and”—I pulled the fridge open and peeked inside—“Coke.”
She slid onto a stool and smiled. “A glass of wine would be nice, thank you. Is there anything I can help you with?”
“No, thank you. I got it covered.”
I poured her a glass and grabbed a beer for myself. She touched her glass to my bottle, and there she went analyzing me again. The weight of her stare did something to me. I had half a mind to ask her why she looked at me the way she did—with such intensity.
“You know, I’ve lived in this city my whole life, and have been in the flower shop hundreds of times, but I never knew this place existed.” She looked around, taking stock of the small and cozy place I had remodeled. It wasn’t much, but it was mine.
“It w
as mostly used for storage since they never got the chance to finish building it. It’s almost an act of congress to get a permit. When we moved here, my aunt offered it to me, said I could do whatever it is I wanted and make it my own.”
“You did all of this?” She looked around, and I knew she was taking in the tiny details that I put in with my own hands.
“I did. Why? Is it hard to believe? Like how it was hard to believe when I said I worked in a flower shop?” I smirked.
“No. It just seems like a lot of work for one person to do.”
I shrugged. “It kept me busy.” I didn’t have a huge circle of friends in this town, mainly acquaintances. I kept to myself most days, working for my aunt in her shop with whatever handy work or delivery she needed done. It paid the bills, and I actually enjoyed taking a step back from the rat race I was accustomed to.
“Well, you did a nice job. I like it.”
“Thank you.”
She looked around some more, and my eyes traveled with her every move. When she opened her mouth, but when no words came out, I asked, “What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“You aren’t a very good liar.”
“Well, I was curious. Since your grandmother is no longer living, are you planning to stay in the area?”
And there was the million dollar question.
“That depends.”
“On?”
“I’m still trying to figure that out. You hungry?”
“Starved.”
“Good. Why don’t you make yourself a plate? We can eat in the living room if you like.”
I appreciated that she didn’t press me further on if I was staying or heading back to New York. I hadn’t made up my mind yet, but aside from my mother and brother, there was nothing for me to go back to.
She slid off the stool and came to stand next to me, but not as close as I would have liked. Regardless if we were still getting to know one another, I was already thinking about the next opportunity to spend more time together.
Lilly grabbed a plate, and a flash of color on her wrist caught my eye. I stared, trying to make out the design. It wasn’t until she scooped some meat into her taco shell that I saw it was a compass.
I grabbed a plate and started to build my own taco, but even as I did, I purposefully put myself a bit closer to her. I wanted her body to brush against mine. To see her skin prickle and flush as we made contact, to see if I had an affect on her.
“Wow, is that the river?” She pointed out the backsplash wall of glass.
“It is. When I saw the view, I knew I wanted the kitchen to be right here. I like to cook and spend quite some time in here.”
I had designed the space so the kitchen ran along the entire back wall. When I saw the view from a small window, I decided it needed more light and that was where the idea for the wall of glass came in. Since I had limited space, I added an island between the kitchen and living room, and used that as my dining table.
We filled our plates with all the fixings, grabbed our drinks, and made our way into the living room. Lilly sat on one end of the couch facing me while I sat on the other.
“So, where did you learn to cook?” She scooped some shredded lettuce, tomatoes, and cheese into her taco shell.
“My grandmother taught me.”
“Not your mom?” The question was innocent enough. What wasn’t innocent was the way she closed her eyes and moaned after her first bite. The sound almost made me lose my shit. I looked to the side and cleared my throat.
“Not so much.” I took a bite and took my time chewing and swallowing so I could decide how much to tell her. “My parents had me when they were young; they were both in high school.” Her eyes widened a bit. “My mom’s parents didn’t like the idea of their daughter being a teenage mother, so my grandma and grandpa moved her in with them. And no, even though she was already pregnant, she wasn’t allowed to sleep in the same room as my dad.” She giggled softly. “Anyway, the plan was that once they graduated, they would stay in New York and both go to college together. That way, my grandparents could help raise me. Then my dad decided he didn’t want to stay in New York. Nor did he offer to take my mother with him.”
“Wow. So your mom stayed with your dad’s parents even after he had left?” I watched her reaction, noting the lack of pity and abundance of concern in her eyes, and relaxed a little.
“She did for a while. When I was three, she signed custody over to my grandparents.”
“Oh my god, Easton.” She reached over and held my forearm. She’d never know how much her touch made me feel like she cared. Not too many people outside of my family knew about my situation. Not that it was tragic by any means, a minor technicality, which actually turned out for the better. My grandparents were great people, and I don’t think I would have traded them for anything.
“It’s all good. My grandparents gave me a life I don’t think either of my parents could have at the time.”
“Do you talk to your parents at all?”
“I do. I’m actually pretty close with my mom and little brother. I would love to be closer to my sisters, but they live in Seattle with my dad and stepmom, so I don’t get to see them as often. What about you and your siblings?”
“I’m really close to my sister.”
“Are your parents still married?”
“Yeah, going on thirty-five years.”
“You should feel lucky. That’s really hard to come by these days. Not that there’s anything wrong with blended families or anything.”
Something almost painful flashed over her features, and it took her a second to tuck away what thought she just had. “I guess you’re right, it’s probably for the best if both parents raise their children together.” Lilly turned away and cleared her throat. Then she went back to eating her food in silence. I did the same until I couldn’t stand the awkwardness. I turned on the stereo, scanning the stations and when a familiar tune came on, I stopped.
“Get up.” I stood with my hand held out.
“Where are we going?”
“Nowhere, dance with me.”
“I don’t dance.” And she thought I was a terrible liar. At least I could fib without my grin giving me away.
“Oh, come on, everyone dances, even if they’re no good at it.”
I waited with my hand held out until she laid her palm in mine, and I brought her around to the small open space. Not expecting me to spin her around, Lilly laughed and grabbed on to my waist for balance.
“I got you,” I whispered and made the mistake of flicking my gaze to her lips. The need to taste her came on strong. Instead of acting on it, I twirled her again and then reeled her back to me as she laughed.
“Hey!” She pulled back in my arms. “I just thought of something.”
“And what’s that?” I brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. It really was cute how she tried to hide her body’s automatic response to me.
“If you work for your aunt’s flower shop, why did you want to buy those sunflowers from me the day in the cemetery?”
I smirked. “I was wondering when you were going to ask me that.”
“Why?”
“Besides the fact that they were my grandmother’s favorite?”
“Yup.”
“It was the only reason I could think of to go over and talk to you.”
Our first encounter, which wasn’t much of an encounter at all, was powerful. An unknown force had drawn me to her, and ever since that day, I couldn’t shake the feeling we were meant to be in the same place at the same time. That we were destined to meet.
“Oh.” Her cheeks grew a deep shade of pink, and my man pride beat against my chest.
“Are you getting all shy on me, Miss Lilly?” I paused, letting my eyebrows draw down. “I just realized I don’t know your last name.”
I lowered her into a dip. Her mouth curved upward, and the outer corners of her eyes crinkled.
“Let me up, you nut.” She laughed,
clutching on to my arms for support. She caught her breath and smiled. “It’s Crenshaw-Gibson.”
“So, Miss Crenshaw-Gibson, how come a beautiful woman like yourself is not snatched up already?” I pulled her close, erasing any distance between us. Her warmth mingled with her sweet scent of orange blossoms had me tuning out the music and solely fixating on her. The flawless skin of her shoulders and chest, her eyes, and her petite frame summoned the man in me.
When her tongue darted out and she wet her bottom lip, I lost all good sense. My hands trailed from her hips upward to her neck, where I caressed her delicate skin. My breathing was strained, and I leaned in, gently pressing my lips to hers, never having tasted anything sweeter.
A groan rumbled from my chest, and her lips parted, silently allowing me access. I slipped my tongue in, and her body melted into me. Everything in me said to take this slow. That she was not the kind of woman to give in easily, but her taste had me tossing common sense out the window.
“Lilly,” I breathed against her warm lips. With both her hands fisting my shirt, she whimpered, pushing herself just the smallest fraction closer to me. It was all I needed to push further, to tangle my fingers in her hair, pull back, and tilt her head to the side. I delved in deeper. I held on in fear of her letting go.
Losing track of time, I could have stayed connected all night if she’d let me, but she didn’t.
“Easton.”
“Yes?”
“We shouldn’t.” Her forehead dropped to my chest.
“Why not?” I was confused. Did she not feel the pull between us, the heat, how perfect we fit?
Every muscle in her body stiffened, insinuating I had done something wrong. Five seconds ago, I had been convinced she wanted this as much as I did.
“Lilly.” I lifted her chin, needing her to look at me—to see me. “Did I misread . . .” She bowed her head. “Please look at me,” I whispered, carefully lifting her chin again, gazing into those beautiful brown eyes that had a way of unraveling me and my good sense.
A single tear slid down her cheek, and my nerves rattled off like rapid fire. “Lilly, please tell me what it is that I keep doing wrong here.” I brushed the tear away as her hands balled and she took in a staggering, broken breath.