That makes her crack. Her laugh is a twinkle in the silence around us, and I squeeze her fingers, needing the reminder that she’s really here.
“Are you in disguise again?”
“Would that bother you?” Because I’d take off my glasses and hat if it meant she’d keep laughing like that.
“No. But, if you’re not, then I don’t think you’re right about nobody believing I’m here with you. I’m pretty sure it’ll be the other way around.”
“If you’re trying to butter me up so I’ll take the blindfold off, it’s working.”
She reaches out and flicks my chest. “That’s not what I was doing.”
“We’re almost there, anyway. Two more minutes won’t kill you,” I tease, voice dropping.
“That’s what you think.”
“It’ll be worth it.” I hope.
Without stopping, I bring our hands to my lips and kiss her knuckles, letting them remain in place for a minute. She doesn’t say anything, but I don’t miss the slight hitch in her breath or the twitch of her soft smile. Every step we take is confident, perfectly in time despite her not being able to see. There isn’t a sliver of hesitation in her body language as she lets me lead her somewhere unknown.
She trusts me.
We pass behind a cluster of small businesses, and then the area opens up, revealing our real location. The sun hasn’t set yet, which means the strings of lights strung between all of the different food trucks aren’t lit, but it doesn’t matter. We’ve beenhere more times than I can count over the years, which means she’s already seen how beautiful the giant parking lot looks when the moon’s out.
I’m hoping she won’t hold that against me.
“It smells like hot dogs,” she says.
I snort a laugh and guide her in front of me before releasing her hand. She taps her fingers to her stomach in anticipation as I bring my fingers to her shoulders and let them linger. The heat from her skin radiates through the thin top she’s wearing, and I have to force myself to move on. Slowly, I tuck her hair behind both of her ears and feel the shiver that has her moving against my chest.
“Are you ready?” I ask, dipping my nose to her hair, inhaling the smooth scent of her vanilla perfume.
She hums, tipping her chin.
Straightening my shoulders, I slowly untie the back of the blindfold and ease it off, careful not to drag it over her eyes. I catch her quick blinks as her vision adjusts and then step from behind her to her side, desperate to see more. Sensing me, she turns her head my way, the deep blue of her eyes swirling with what I think must be approval.
“You’re right. This was worth the secrecy. I didn’t know they were open again already,” she gushes before surveying the trucks, her cheeks warming to a soft pink.
“The water was cleaned up a few days ago. I got lucky.”
For the last three weeks, this block has been dealing with a couple of busted water lines, which had the parking lot swimming. I truly did get lucky that they’ve reopened already. This is the first place I thought of when I asked her to go on a real date with me.
Pressing my hand to her lower back, I drop my head and murmur, “It’s nothing fancy. But I figured you’ve had enough of stuffy restaurants and could do with something comfortable.”
“No, it’s perfect. This is exactly what I want,” she argues fiercely.
It’s impossible not to get lost in the clear waters of her open gaze. It’s familiar but, at the same time, completely new. Just like this place, looking at her isn’t unfamiliar to me. But the way she’s holding my stare with her skin flushed and lips rolling together is completely uncharted territory. And when those beautiful blue eyes drop to my mouth before skirting back up, her lashes fluttering, I know I’m a goner.
New or not, all I know is that I want to learn how to navigate this new dynamic. The lingering fear of what could happen if this goes wrong isn’t enough to stop me from gliding my hand up her spine and tucking my knuckle beneath her chin, lifting it further. Nor does it convince me that leaning down and tasting that slippery gloss isn’t the best course of action in this moment.
Her exhale skates across my lips before I flatten them to hers and taste her for the first time in days.
Our phone call at Wes’ was only one of many since. My time in Minnesota was harder than any road trip that I’ve been on in the last seven years, and I’m not going to pretend I don’t know why. Leaving Vancouver—leaving her—was different this time.
I’ve barely been back for two hours, but there was nothing that was going to keep me from being here tonight. Every needy text message we sent and innocent phone call that turned into me locking myself in a shared hotel bathroom every night with my cock in my hand has led to this.
“Where do you want to start?” I whisper against her mouth.
Her small fingers trace patterns on my side as she hovers, blinking up at me. “Your choice.”
