He obviously put a lot of thought into this. Not to mention he’s doing exactly what I wanted. He’s trying. Hard, as it would seem. So, no, I don’t want him to cancel. At this point, us reconnecting is more important than a few hundred dollars.
I thread my elbow with his. “What are we waiting for? Lead the way.”
Pleased that I’m not thwarting his plans, he opens the door and escorts me down the stairs, out the back door, and around the corner. He stares up at the giant Lloyd’s Steakhouse sign. “Did we come here often?”
“I wouldn’t say often. A few times. Your thirtieth birthday. Our tenth anniversary. Things like that.”
I purposely leave out the first time we came here figuring that falls under the category oftoo much. It was the night he proposed. He didn’t propose at the restaurant, he’d done it earlier. But he took me out to celebrate. We couldn’t afford it then either.
Like a tried-and-true date, he opens the door for me and puts his hand on the small of my back as we make our way to the hostess stand.
“Table for Criss,” he says.
“Right this way, sir.”
A few heads turn as we walk through the restaurant. Whispers—gossip most likely—come from tables as we pass. Several people wave or nod hello. I don’t take the time to stop and engage in any greetings. I’m too eager to get on with our night. Or maybe I’m impatient about what I’m fairly certain will happen at the end of it.
“As requested,” the hostess says. “A table for two by the window.”
Trevor pulls out my seat for me then takes his own.
“You requestedthistable?” I ask, voice low.
He nods out the window. “I know how much you like the park.”
“It’s not so much the park I like. It’s what’s beyond.”
“The tree. Right.” He fiddles with his water glass. “I suppose if I was trying to be really romantic, I’d have taken you there.”
“You don’t have to do things like that. You know, force things to mirror how they used to be.” I smile, then tell a little white lie. “Bowling sounds much more fun.”
“I’m glad you think so,” he says, sounding amused. “I just hope I don’t suck at it.”
“I’m sure you’ll excel at it just as you have everything else.”
His eyebrows smash together over his nose. “What exactly have I been excelling at?”
My chest heaves slightly when I think of the one thing he seems to be an expert at: making me come.
“Why, Ava. It’s dark in here, but I do believe you’re blushing.”
The moment is interrupted when the waitress comes to take our drink order.
“Should we get a bottle of wine?” Trevor asks. “Red?”
I shake my head. “I’d just like an iced tea.”
He turns back to the waitress. “One glass of merlot and one iced tea please.” When she walks off, he asks, “You don’t drink much, do you?”
I’m saved from having to serve him yet another lie when Hunter and Willow approach our table.
“Hey, you two,” Willow says in a sing-song voice that lets me know she’s amused to see us here. Out on an actual date that doesn’t involve Goodwin’s bacon mac-and-cheese.
“Trevor, this is Hunter and Willow McQuaid.”
Trevor’s head cocks to the side. “Hudson’s brother?”
Hunter nods. “That’s right. Heard about your accident, man. Sorry you’re dealing with that.”
