CHAPTER 16
Itug at the hem of my sundress as I walk toward the restaurant where I'm meeting Henry.
Golden light spills over main street, highlighting the beautiful red hues of the old brick buildings. I loved this time of night.
It was nearing seven o'clock in Honey Grove when things quieted down for the evening.
Summer was my favorite time of year in our small town. Everything was bursting with life and color, giving me a new appreciation for our small town—an appreciation that felt palpable inside my body with each step toward him.
The corner of my lip tilts up in a slight smirk when I think of how irritated Henry was when I told him I'd meet him here. I had to drop Milo off at Colt's, and it didn't make sense to drive back home before our date.
It was adorable how much he grumbled about it, his brows furrowing in that endearing way as if it was some grand affront to chivalry. "But I'm supposed to pick you up," he'd protested, his voice tinged with genuine exasperation. It was sweet.
I shift my purse on my shoulder, trying to grasp the ideathat I'm going on an actual date. I hadn't been on a first day since I was sixteen, and I could feel the nerves pressing down on my chest. A nervous energy coils inside my body, radiating outward in little sparks that vibrate over my body. My palms feel damp to the point where I press them against the fabric of my dress, willing myself to relax.
After a few more feet, I approach the restaurant where I've been many times. I spot Henry instantly like I always seem to, and my breath catches for the millionth time this summer. He looks different tonight, somehow. Or I'm looking at him differently.
I don't ignore how my pulse beats uncontrollably when I see him tonight. His usually tousled hair is neater like he had spent hours trying to tame it. His navy button-down complements the deep golden tint in his eyes, and his sleeves are rolled up to his elbows, exposing forearms that are now my weakness. And here I am, hopelessly trying to steady my breath before I walk inside.
Half-hidden by the restaurant's entrance, I linger for a moment, letting myself take him in. It's ridiculous how one person can make me feel like this—like every nerve in my body is firing all at once, an unpredictable mix of anticipation and vulnerability.
I step out of the shadows almost simultaneously as he glances toward the entrance. Our eyes meet, and his expression matches how I'm feeling inside. He offers a hesitant smile, and I return the sentiment.
I straighten up, forcing my feet to move forward. "You look nice," I manage, the words escaping me before I can overthink them.
Henry's smile widens, and he rubs the back of his neck in the way he does whenever I give him a compliment. “Thank you,Pajarito.” His gaze sweeps over me, and something flickers in his eyes, warm and genuine. "Te ves hermosa."
His rich voice wraps around me, and for a second, Ihonestly forget how to breathe. I may not know much Spanish, but I know enough to piece those words together. Beautiful. He said I look beautiful.
My cheeks flush, and the warmth spreading down my neck makes my heart pound even harder. "Thank you," I say, my voice quiet and almost shy.
Henry leans closer, his hand gesturing for me to follow him. "Are you ready?" he asks, the slightest trace of a smirk tugging at his lips as if he knows the effect he's having on me.
I nod, walking past him and into the main seating area without tripping over the strappy sandals, which seemed like a good idea then. The familiar scent of garlic and fresh bread wafts through the air, mingling with the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. I've been to this place countless times, but tonight, it feels different.
Henry follows closely, and I can feel him behind me. The ghost of his hand hovers just above the small of my back as the hostess leads us to a quiet corner table.
We sit down across from each other, and for a moment, I'm hyperaware of everything—the smooth fabric of my dress against my legs, the way his fingers brush against the edge of his menu, the faint dimple in his cheek when he glances at me with that easy, disarming grin.
"How was dropping Milo off earlier?" he asks, breaking the silence as he sets his menu down.
I relax at the mention of Milo, a familiar and safe topic. "Good. He was excited because Colt is taking him to his parent's house. Colt's dad has a tractor, and Milo is obsessed with that thing."
Henry laughs, making me lean into the conversation. "I noticed he has a lot of tractor toys, so that makes sense. I think I almost stepped on one the first time I was at your place.”
I smile at the now-distant memory. "Consider yourselflucky. I have stepped on one and can confirm that it hurts more than stepping on a Lego."
He laughs again, and I smile at how effortless this feels. I wasn't sure why I was so nervous because being here with him felt right.
When the waiter brings our drinks, Henry leans back in his chair, his eyes fixed on me in that steady, unflinching way that makes me feel like he can read my mind. "I still can't believe you agreed to this."
I raise an eyebrow, glancing down at the menu. "What? Dinner with you?"
"Yes,Pajarito. Dinner with me," he confirms, a playful smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "I was sure you'd find some reason to say no."
I laugh, shaking my head. "Yeah. I didn't have a good excuse this time, so here I am."
I peek up from the safety of my menu to make sure he knows I'm joking. Sure enough, his endearing smile hasn't faded.
