Jacob clears his throat. “So, have you heard from Lucas?” Marcus fidgets from across the table as he pretends he’s not listening.
“He called me this morning.”
“Oh?” Jacob says nonchalantly. I hold in a chuckle.
“Yep, sounds like he’ll be flying back next week. It didn’t take him as long as he thought to put his apartment on the market.”
I notice a quiet smile pass between Marcus and Jacob. They’re so not fooling anyone.
“Oh,” Alex pipes in. “Before I forget, next weekend is the open house for the shelter. I hope you can all make it.”
“We wouldn’t miss it,” Dom says.
“Marcus, Jacob… I’m hoping you’ll be there, maybe even bring some of the kids from Matthew House.
“Of course, Alex. We’ll be there.”
The room fills with clinking silverware and friendly conversations that bring a smile to my face. Dom’s hand under the table squeezes my thigh, and he gives me a smile that makes my insides go fuzzy.
Sitting here surrounded by my friends… my family, the weight of Dom’s touch releases the fear I’ve been holding. I’ve always wanted to find love, someone to grow old with. I just never knew if it was gonna happen for me. Looking at Dom, I feel it. The possibility. The future.
Before, when Dom asked me about my future, I thought about my physical wants—the cookbook, a house, a dog—but not about the future inside me. The heart. I want to be loved and cherished; I want it to be with someone I trust. Someone who wants me just as much as I want them. Someone I don’t have to play years of games with just to find out they never wanted me to begin with.
I’ve found my footing with a little help from my friends. Now it’s time for me to move forward in life. Continue to grow into the person I want to be and not the person I was in the past. And I want Dom to be by my side as I do it. My heart is already on its way down. I just hope there are gentle hands there to catch me because I’m falling for him.
We leave Dragonfly feelingfull and sated, leftovers warm in my hands. Dom drives with the windows cracked, the night air ghosting across my skin. He’s quiet—his version of content—one hand loose on the wheel, the other drumming a rhythm I recognize from Mazie’s spoon solo.
If I could bottle this night up so I could savor it, I would.
At his place, the porch light clicks on like it’s been waiting up. He holds the door with a hip, and I step through, then stop. The sliding glass door at the back of the house frames his deck—and the deck is bigger.
“The deck. When did you do this?”
“Jaxon’s been helping me. We’ve done a little bit every night this week. It’s still not done, but close.”
We slide the door open. The cool air and the smell of freshwood hit at once. The cedar smells green and new. He flips on the string of lights. They throw soft halos over the boards… over him.
I stop; surprise must be written all over my face.
Dom’s mouth twitches. “It’s a bench. You mentioned you enjoyed sitting outside in the morning and having a cup of coffee. I thought maybe this would be a good spot for that.”
I set the leftovers on the little side table.
“It’s a bench with opinions.” It runs the length of the railing now, cedar the color of tea, corners rounded like he thought about knees. “You installed a drink ledge.”
“Hydration is important.” He sits on the new bench, testing the give with both palms. “You approve?”
I drop beside him, hip to hip. The wood is cool through my jeans. “It’s perfect. It’s exactly big enough for two people pretending to watch the stars.”
“We could actually watch the stars,” he says, tone dry.
“Mm. But then we couldn’t pretend.” I bump his shoulder. “Just admit you built it for after-dinner making out.”
“I’m a respectable homeowner.”
“With a kissing rail.”
“It’s a drink ledge.”
