“Where are we going?” Lainey asks, snapping me out of my Lainey-fueled spiral.
Coughing to clear my throat, I reply, “There are only a handful of places here in Fox Grove, but I thought we could order from Gino’s and then take it to one of my favorite places. If that sounds okay with you?” I was hoping that a casual, relaxed date would be the best thing for tonight. I wanted to get to know Lainey, and also have time alone without the pressure of the gossiping grandmas and anyone else that might be out tonight.
“Oh, I love Gino’s!” she exclaims with a genuine smile. “They have such a great menu for a small-town family place, but my guilty pleasure is the cheese bread. Sometimes I just order a box of that and have it for my dinner.” She covers her face as she finishes her sentence, seemingly embarrassed, like she admitted something she shouldn’t have.
“Damn that bread could be the only thing that Gino’s sold, and I think that they could still stay in business. There is nothing to be ashamed about admitting that you have excellent taste.” I look over at her, and she looks at me with eyes that almost shimmer with tears. I have no idea why my simple comment makes her have this reaction, but I want to know why, and then kick the ass of the person that hurt her. Or likely more than one person ... but hell, she could order ten boxes of cheese bread, anything she wanted.
“What is your favorite thing to get there?” Lainey asks.
“You mean besides the kick-ass cheese bread?”
Laughing she says, “Yeah, Remington, of course! Besides the bread, what’s second place for you at Gino’s?”
“I’d have to say the chicken parm. I think they put something in the breading, some kind of secret spice that is so good. I tried to replicate it at home, and it’s disappointingly not the same. I can never get it right.” Sighing, I think about the failed attempts. My parm turned out fine, but I didn’t wantfine,I wanted Gino’s.
“You know how to cook?” Lainey asks with a healthy doseof surprise as I swing my truck into the restaurant’s busy parking lot.
“Of course I do, I am a grown-ass man. I cannot live on boxed mac and cheese, takeout, and cereal. Also, we take turns cooking at the fire station. So, even the guys that don’t necessarilyliketo cook know how to cook a couple dishes for their turn. But Iactuallyenjoy it. It’s relaxing, and I like cooking for people I care about.” I say the last thing, giving her a pointed look, hoping she can tell that means I would like to cook for her someday. The French toast fantasy comes to mind, and I shut that shit down immediately. I don’t need to get out of this truck and freak Lainey out with a hard-on after just talking about cooking food for fuck’s sake.
“I think it’s really nice that you know how to cook and enjoy it. I like to cook, too. My mom and I spent some time cooking together, but we didn’t get to do much experimenting,” Lainey explains with a frown, fidgety in her seat and looking out the window.
Huh, definitely more there to unpack. This woman is an onion, and I want to peel back all the layers. She opened up to me in so many ways, told me a lot of things that I think even surprised her so far, but there is obviously so much more. Underneath the cheerful, sweet, caring demeanor there is also a layer of hurt, mistrust, and pain. I am not a therapist, but I have a feeling it had very little to do with limp-dick Brett and their split. Whatever pain Lainey was harboring was much heavier, carved from places in her past that went back way further than a couple of years.
With a double order of chicken parm, three boxes of cheese bread, and Lainey’s shock, protests, and laughter, we headed out to one of my favorite places—Eagle Point. People around here had a real affinity for naming shit after animals, but this spot actually fit its name better than most. The lookout point gave a panoramic view of the town, and we made it just in time for sunset. I pulled the stack of pillows and blankets from the back seat of my truck that I had packed and made a cozy spot in the bed of my truck. After helping Lainey up and making sure she was comfortable and warm enough, I grabbed our food and joined her.
The few locks of hair that were not in her bun blew gently in the wind, and she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. I couldn’t look away from her if someone paid me. The soft glow of the sunset kisses the apples of her cheeks, warming her skin even as the temperature around us started to drop. A shiver goes over her skin and she pops her eyes open, finding mine already locked on hers. And then she smiles at me, fully, without any kind of hesitation or shyness, which I was expecting.
“Hi,” she says.
“Hello, beautiful.” I smile back at her. “Are you still warm enough?”
“Yes, I am, thank you. I can’t believe how much thought and effort you put into all of this. I have never been up here. Heard about it but have never made the drive up to see what all the fuss was about. I definitely get it now,” Lainey says looking out at the pink and orange clouds blanketing our small town.
“It’s been a while since I have been up here,” I admit, “and I forgot how much I used to love the peace and stillness. And as far as the effort, there wasn’t much. It’s just grabbing a few things to make sure that you’re comfortable, anyone would do that, Lainey.”
“Remington, you aren’t anyone. And nobody, and I really mean it ... nobody, has taken the time to do thoughtful things like this for me, take my comfort, wants, or opinions into consideration. So these things that seem really small and easy to you are actually huge for me.” Lainey peels back another layer of herself and slices me to my very core as she does it. How is it possible that nobody,nobody,has treated this woman with the most basic effort, let alone anything extra?
Reaching out, I take her hand in mine, still a perfect fit, and say, “If there ever comes a day that I don’t do these things for you like it’s second nature, not because it’s just a habit, but because it’s what you fucking deserve, then we will have a serious problem. I will never give you anything less than what you should get. And to be honest, I hope to exceed that as much as I possibly can. I understand we are still just getting to know each other, Lainey, but I feel that every ounce of time and effort I put toward whateverthismight be is exactly how I should be spending it.”
I let my words sit with her, a soft and peaceful silence hanging between us. I will prove myself over time with my actions toward her. That’s the only way a woman that has been treated like Lainey has in the past will ever believe me. Words mean a lot, but actions often speak so much louder.
Determined to shift the mood, I ask, “What was your favorite memory growing up here?”
“Actually, I didn’t grow up here,” Lainey says. “My mom is from here, both my parents were from here.”
“Oh, I assumed you grew up here and I just didn’t know you or your siblings? Somehow I missed you, which seems unlikely. Chief said he knew your mom, and she was happy you were back?”
Lainey sighs. “Yes. Well my dadhatedthis town. Hates this town. He said that anyone that stayed here was a loser and would never make anything of their life. So when he and mymom left for college, and then eventually got married, they never came back.” Lainey picks at her food, taking a small bite of chicken, not looking at me.
“Geez, that is a bit of a harsh view of small-town life,” I say, trying not to take my offense from her dad’s words out on her.
“I agree,” she says soothingly. Surprising me, she reaches out and rubs her hand over mine. “My mom likes this town, didn’t want to leave, and always dreamed of raising me and my brother here. That is what I am working with in the sibling department, by the way. One brother, Calvin. He’s five years older than I am.”
“Are the two of you close?” I ask her, keeping her hand in mine.
“Ha! Definitely not, and thank God for it. We were not friends growing up, or now. I have very, very limited contact with him. He is cut from the same cloth as our father. They both don’t like that I am very much like my mother as far as wanting to live here. She came back to Fox Grove my senior year of college when they finally got a divorce. When I moved here, my dad and brother both threw a fit. Threatened me, told me I was making the biggest mistake ofmylife.”
My protective instincts were beyond a simmer, and now my lid is about to blow. “They fuckingthreatened you? What did they do, Lainey?” I needed to know as much as I needed my next breath of air.
