He breathed in with a sigh but smiled. “Like I’ve been hit by a truck.”
“We don’t have to go into the city. We could do something else.”
“I’ll live.” He tucked my hair behind my ear and kissed me again, trying to distract me from worrying about him anymore.
Someone cleared their throat from behind the front desk. Not Candice, because she had taken the day off, but my mother. Gathering paperwork and pretending like we weren't there until her eyes flicked up and she looked Dean over with displeasure.
Dean decided to smile at her and lift his hand in a casual wave. “Afternoon, Mrs. Whitmore.”
My mother watched him like she was waiting for an ulterior motive to pop out of him, and then she straightened from the desk. Flattening her hair with her hand as she checked the desk over again.
I looked up at him, offering him a small smile. “We should go—”
“Jane told me about what happened at the party.” Mom stepped out from behind the desk on her way to the hallway but stopped. “While I’m not impressed that she went, I am glad you both showed up when you did... She reported him to the police.”
“She did?” I was filled with pride for my sister, while Dean’s hand gently squeezed my side.
You could still report James, if you wanted to, was what I imagined he wanted to say. Never mind that it risked him getting in trouble too if James blabbed about what Dean had done to him.
“Yes,” Mom said matter-of-factly, and then visibly struggled to get the last part out. “I wanted to thank you. Both of you.”
Before we could reply, she left the foyer and walked briskly back to her office at the end of the hall, leaving us standing alone and a little dumbfounded.
I blinked slowly, and then muttered, “Did that really happen?”
“It did.” Dean looked at me with his eyebrows raised. “Should I go give her a hug or somethin’?”
“Baby steps, Dean,” I laughed, patting him on the chest before we left for his car outside.
The date had no itinerary, we just went wherever the next idea took us.
The first stop was a café for lunch where we sat at one of the small tables outside, tucked in between a pair of topiary shrubs and sheltered from the sun beneath a dark green awning.
We ordered inside, splitting the bill for our drinks and two egg and bacon rolls — with the works. Dean had looked impressed when I said I wanted what he was having. I might’ve been small, but my stomach was a bottomless pit at best.
We had underestimated how small the tables were though. I was able to sit with my legs comfortably tucked on either side of the table leg. Dean however had to sit with his legs apart if he wanted to be closer.
He braced his arms on the table’s surface, taking up half the space.
“I was thinkin’ after this, we should head over to that bookstore,” he said, nodding to the one down the street. “I want to meet some of those book boyfriends you told me about.”
I smiled at him as I brought my arms up to my side of the table, tilting my head a little. “Are you jealous of fictional men?”
“Not at all.” He shrugged and lowered his voice, “I wanna take notes.”
Not that he needed any.
I went to respond with something witty and for his ears only, but the waitress brought our drinks and food out. So I shut my mouth and sat back in my seat. Dean did the same, except there was a little smirk on his face as he dropped his arms under the table to brush a hand over my bare knee. The touch sent warmth spreading up my thigh while I tried my best poker face, smiling politely at the waitress instead as she set everything on the table. She wasn't paying attention to me though.
She tucked her blonde hair behind her ear and patted down the front of her apron. “Will that be everything?”
I swore she even fluttered her lashes a little.
My eyes flicked to Dean to find he hadn’t even looked at the waitress. Instead, he was waiting for me to reply, giving me a subtle nod of encouragement.
“Yes,” I said, straightening confidently. “That is everything, thank you.”
The waitress’s eyes only left him when she faked a smile for me and then turned on her heel to head through the cafe doors.
