Page 52 of Reaching Gavin

“It feels like we’re moving fast, doesn’t it?” He’d read my mind. “I don’t know what to say, Cassie. I can slow down. It just feels right to me. Normal.”

“Honestly? Me too,” I whispered. So I’d moved fast in relationships before, but deep down, I’d always known I was making mistakes. I just wanted to believe that everything would work out in those instances. Mostly, because I’d been so eager to find the one. It was time to confess that to him. “It’s just that I’ve moved fast in relationships before and that’s not always turned out well. Usually, I’m more into it then he is. It’s just that I’ve wanted to find the right person for so long. I watched my parents be in love my whole life. They met when they were sixteen, and they’ve shared everything together.”

I stopped, realizing I was unloading a whole lot of emotional baggage on to him. But Gavin handled it as well as he had handled carrying our bags up that hill earlier today. “I know exactly what you mean, actually. My parents are the same way. I can’t say that I went out actively looking for love. I just kept waiting for the right person to come along. My dad told me something once and it stuck with me.” He shook his head and took a sip of wine. “I won’t scare you off with that one.”

I leaned forward, my interest piqued. “If I haven’t scared you away already, then you should feel pretty safe that I’m not going anywhere.”

“You’re amazing,” he said, as if I’d just handed him a winning lottery ticket. “I told my dad that I didn’t know when I would have time to find the one. It was a couple years ago when I was just getting NorthWest Investments up and running. I dated a few girls off and on in college, but nothing stuck. I’d confided in him that I didn’t think I would ever have what he and my mom had. He said to me that life wasn’t about finding the right one, it was about reaching her. I’ll never forget that.”

I sat back and digested his words. Not finding the one—reaching the one? Somehow it made perfect sense. I thought back to the first day of my internship running into Luka and then Danny and then Trevor—a string of boyfriends past to remind me where I had been—and then meeting Gavin.

I hadn’t found Gavin. I had reached him.

“Are you sure I haven’t scared you off?” He asked after a few moments of silence.

“No,” I said softly, “I think you’re stuck with me.”

“That’s the best news I’ve heard all day.” He kissed my hand again as if sealing his words as a promise.

“So, you’ve never brought another woman here?” I tried to emphasis here as in this restaurant, which was not at all what I wanted to know. Thomas had made a big deal about my presence, which had left me with a few questions.

“No, I haven’t. I’ve never felt like bringing anyone I dated to Friday Harbor,” he admitted.

I preened a bit at this revelation. Reading between the lines that meant our relationship was different. It also meant…

“Why do you have a drawer full of condoms?” I blurted out, shutting my mouth quickly as our appetizer arrived: a pile of oysters on a bed of ice.

“You really do say whatever comes in your head, don’t you?” Gavin mused as he picked one up and slurped it back. “I put them there when we arrived while you were in the bathroom. I didn’t want to seem presumptuous, but I, uh, presumed.”

“Oh.” That made a whole heap of sense. It was the gentlemanly thing to do and as long as he was being responsible I should be, too. We were sleeping together after all. “I’m on the pill. Well, the shot. Less to remember.”

“Good to know,” he said, sounding genuinely relieved.

“No little Cassies or Gavins.” For now. Had I actually just thought that? Had the thought of having this man’s babies just appealed to me? Sure, I was picturing like twenty years from now, but still. What was he doing to me? I scrambled for any change in topic before I overshared those thoughts with him. “I don’t get oysters.”

Yes, Cassie.I internally rolled my eyes. Insult his friend’s food. That will win you points.

“Don’t eat a lot of oysters in Texas?” he guessed.

“To say the least. I never know what to do—and how are they an aphrodisiac? They’re just chewy,” I confessed. “There are no oyster eating lessons on a ranch.”

“Let me show you.” He picked another up along with a tiny fork and gently moved it around in the shell. “So, you take it like this and you suck it in your mouth, but don’t swallow. Just bite it once or twice. You don’t have to chew it up. You just want to get all the flavors. Really savor it.”

He demonstrated, a look of revelation coming over his face, as he tasted it. I blushed a little recognizing that was how he looked after he’d gone down on me. I gulped some wine and did my best not to get lost in thoughts of that.

“Here.” He handed me one.

I took it with some trepidation. Yes, it looked easy. But I had a spectacular ability to make an ass out of myself. I did exactly as he did, except I closed my eyes to try to concentrate on the experience, hoping I could see why he loved them so much.

I sucked it onto my tongue then chewed once. Twice. A salty, sweetness flooded over my tongue. I let it linger for a moment before swallowing.

“It tastes like the whole ocean in your mouth,” Gavin said softly. “It’s mysterious and unexpected every time kinda like making love.”

Oysters were not taking my mind off sex. The rest of the meal was less suggestive. Although still full of foods known for their more sensual qualities: salmon in a butter sauce with a hint of chili pepper, long spears of asparagus, and for dessert a tray of ripe, red strawberries, locally grown, with a pot of melted chocolate and freshly whipped cream. Thomas was one hell of a wingman.

I left pleasantly full but not overly stuffed. By the time we walked back to the house, I’d be ready for more dessert. Gavin offered me his arm and I took it, marveling at the subtle electricity I felt whenever I touched him.

“Look,” he said, pointing to the sky, which was clear and full of stars, “a shooting star. Make a wish.”

I hoped it would always be like this. Simple and magical. I wished it would be.