We walk in together and I swear that I see a few heads turn. Everyone in town knows us, the diner owner and the sheriff. This is also what I’m afraid of — everyone knowingaboutus. And the rumors that will swirl if we don’t get this right and this…whatever this is, fails.
His hand finds the small of my back as our waitress leads us out onto the patio, per his request. It’s a beautiful summer evening; the setting sun paints the sky a stunning mosaic of colors. The air is warm but not stifling, and the patio is inviting and cozy. Fairy lightstwinkle above us, casting a soft glow across the patio, and there’s potted plants all around.
Charlie pulls out my chair at the table, a true gentleman, before he sits in his own.
“You have to admit, this is a little weird,” I say, trying to break the ice. “I mean, us…here…” I gesture between us.
He laughs. “It’s different, yes, but it’s a good kind of different.” His eyes linger on me for a moment and I feel my cheeks start to burn.
“Don’t look at me like that,” I warn him.
“Like what?”
“Like you’re undressing me with your eyes.”
Charlie looks at me innocently, a smug smile on his face. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
It’s not lost on me how extraordinarily handsome he looks tonight. He undoes the buttons on his wrists and rolls the sleeves up, exposing his muscular arms. I hadn’t really noticed before how chiseled he is.
Or rather, I didn’tletmyself notice.
Either way, I’m noticing now.
I lose myself in looking at the menu before my face gives my thoughts away. I bite the corner of my lip as I imagine those tan arms sliding along my skin—
“Beth Ann,” he repeats.
“Yes?” I ask breathlessly, shaking my head to get rid of the fantasy within. I feel the flush creep down my neck.
Charlie cocks his head slightly and smirks as he narrows his eyes.
“White wine or red?” Our waitress asks. I hadn’t even noticed her arrival.
“Red is fine,” I say, blinking rapidly.
The waitress nods and says she’ll be back with our drinks in just a moment.
I settle in my chair and look at Charlie. “What are we even supposed to talk about? We’ve known each other for so long, I mean, we know everything about each other.”
He leans back in his chair, settling his elbows on the armrests. “I guess that means we’re free to talk about anything. You nervous, Beth Ann?”
“Maybe a little,” I admit.
Our waitress returns with two glasses of red wine, breadsticks, and salad. She arranges the table nicely before disappearing again.
Charlie raises his glass in a toast and I do the same.
“To old friendship and a new beginning,” he says. I echo him and we clink the glasses together. I’d forgotten how good the wine is at Regiano’s. I don’t get over here often, but it’s a nice treat every now and then.
Through salads and entrees, we rehash the glory days, laughing over inside jokes and the woes of being broke college kids. The wine flows as easily as the conversation does, making me feel as light as a feather. Charlie and I laugh and laugh; edging into something more than just friends. It’s so much easier than I thought it would be.
Why did I fightthis for so long?
He orders a piece of Italian creme cake for us to share. Our forks scrape against the china plate and we take turns devouring it. I make a mental note to ask Thea to add it to her menu of baked goods at the diner.
“You can have the last bite,” he says.
I shake my head. “I’m okay. You can have it.”
