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Anticipation mounted as I made my way to the diner. I'd already kissed Cole, already slept with him multiple times. Yet somehow, this date felt more taboo than anything else we’d done. How were we meant to act around one another? Would Ida see us together? Would Cole order for me?
For a crazy moment, I thought about slowing down to make him wait. It would have been the kind of thing that Lily would suggest doing—she was into all those weird “How to make anyone fall in love with you” books. It would be a strategy to make him want me more. I didn't really want to do it, though. Cole was such a straight shooter, and I felt like I didn't need to make him want me more than he already did. He had suggested this date, after all.
Stepping inside The Lighthouse, I scanned the faces, disappointed not to spot Cole right away. Obviously, he'd been delayed. Maybe he'd come across a building in dire need of repair and couldn't resist lending a hand.
"Elara!" A figure waved to me from across the diner.
Oh. My. God.
It was Cole. He was dressed in a crisp white shirt that fit his sculpted body like a glove, and a pair of sexy, dark pants. His shoes were smart black Oxfords, polished to a slick sheen. Even in this dressier outfit, he exuded raw masculinity. His beard was shaved back to stubble, showcasing his chiseled jawline. Even his hair looked different. It hadn't been cut, but he'd done something to it, maybe used some wax or gel or whatever it was that men did to make their hair look good.
I approached him, cheeks flushed with a mix of excitement and nerves.
"Holy heck," I breathed, unable to tear my gaze away from him. "You clean up nice, McCoy."
He smelled good, too. Really good. Like pine and the sea and a hint of spice. Expensive yet rugged.
"Thanks," he replied. "Thought I'd make an effort, seeing as it's our first date. You look absolutely stunning, Elara. That dress is perfect on you."
I beamed at the compliment, feeling a thrill run through me. I was out on a date. With Cole.
He leaned in close and kissed my cheek, and I felt a flood of warmth flush through my body like molten honey. He led me to a booth by the window with a view over the ocean. A small candle flickered on the table—a romantic touch I'd never seen at The Lighthouse before. Maybe Cole arranged it personally.
"So. Cocktails!" He held up a menu, but I was too busy looking at his big brown eyes, warm and kind in the soft light.
"Mmhmm," I replied, like a lovestruck puppy.
Cole scanned the menu. "I'm gonna have to get you to recommend something to me. Don't tell anyone, but I've never actually had a cocktail before."
"Never?" I looked at him in disbelief.
"Don't think so. After I finished with the Navy—or the Navy finished with me—I planned on going to college. Maybe I would've gotten into cocktails then, but the kids sort of derailed that plan."
"Well, look, you like whiskey, right?"
"Sure."
"Try an Old-Fashioned. It's whiskey, sugar, and ice with some bitters."
"Mmm. Bitters."
"Trust me!"
I, of course, chose a Negroni. Our drinks arrived shortly after ordering. We clinked glasses, the sound ringing out like a promise.
"Well. I do like that." Cole smacked his lips together.
"It's Don Draper's favorite cocktail."
"That a friend of yours?"
"No, he's from Mad Men. Did you ever see it?"
Cole shook his head. "Mostly just watch Gabby's Dollhouse with the girls these days."
I laughed. "Can't say I'm familiar with that one."
I sipped my drink. My Negroni was well-balanced and satisfying. Gentle jazz music played in the background, mingling with the comforting hum of conversation. I could scarcely believe I was in Bluehaven Beach, on a somewhat fancy date.
