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I nod. “I’ve got an obvious statement of my own. You’re on the island a month early and living in Dogwood Cove.”
Riley winces, and I immediately reach out and cover her hand in mine. The instant we connect, our eyes jump to each other, and something settles inside of me. And in that instant, one thing is certain. I’m not the only one blindsided by the crazy connection between us.
“I wanted to tell you,” she starts softly, her gaze dropping to our hands, still touching on the table. I thread our fingers together, and finally, she looks at me with a twinkle in her eyes. “But I also kind of wanted to surprise you.”
“Well, you did that.” I chuckle. Squeezing her hand, my voice turns serious. Because she needs to know I mean this. “Riley, I’m thrilled you’re here.”
Her chest lifts in a deep inhale and she lets it go in a slow exhale before once again giving me that stunning smile I’m growing addicted to.
“Since you are here, and here to stay, at that,” I start, suddenly nervous. I’m pretty sure she’ll say yes? Yeah. She’ll say yes.
I hope.
I clear my throat. “I was wondering if I could take you out for dinner tomorrow night. Like, on a date, I mean.”
Her fingers tighten in mine.
“I’d like that.”
Thank. Fuck.
CHAPTER5
Riley
As excited as I am that Dean clearly has similar feelings for me like I do for him, that excitement does next to nothing to diminish my nerves as I get ready to meet him tonight.
“I swear to God, Riley. You’re going to make a permanent wear mark on my floors if you don’t stop. Tonight is going to be amazing, and don’t worry about letting me know if you aren’t coming home after your date. I’ll just assume you aren’t.” Mila winks, and its all just so ridiculous — Dean asking me out, me being so nervous, and Mila being so certain I’m going to have sex — that I just start laughing, then crying.
“Riley, what’s wrong?!” Mila drops down beside my chair, one hand resting on my shoulder, the other tucking an errant curl behind my ear.
“N-nothing,” I hiccup through a fresh wave of tears. Great, at this rate I’m going to be a splotchy mess when I see Dean. “Maybe I should cancel.”
“You’ll do no such thing,” Mila says firmly. “Dean is amazing, and so are you. And two amazing people should be together.”
She makes it sound so simple.
“Mila, you know I don’t date much. This is why I’m crying. Because the stress of it all is so high. What if he wants to be spontaneous, but it turns out wherever we go or whatever we do isn’t accessible for me? What if he gets weirded out if people stare at us? What if my leg twitches and I kick him under the table? What if —“
“What if you go out with a guy whose heart is as big as yours, and you have an amazing time with someone who is compassionate, understanding, and genuinely interested in you, chair or no chair?”
That manages to stop my crazy spiral of self-doubt, and I look at her through bleary eyes. “Do you really think he is?”
“Girl, I know he is,” comes her enigmatic reply. “Now let’s get those tears cleaned up and you in your car, because you have a dinner date to go to.”
Ten minutes and a fresh coat of mascara later, I’m in my car, giving myself a mental pep talk on the way to Bella Mia, the Italian restaurant where I’m meeting Dean. He wanted to pick me up, but I needed to feel like I had some control over my situation, and having my own getaway car is the best way to do that. I’m all too familiar with guys quickly realizing they don’t really want to date a girl who needs a set of wheels to get around.
When I pull up to the restaurant, Dean’s waiting, standing beside the accessible parking spot out front. He’s looking drool-worthy handsome in a black collared shirt tucked into dark maroon pants. I wouldn’t have thought a manly man like him could pull off pants that colour, but they look good. Tailored to perfection. I may spend longer than necessary turning off my car and gathering my things, just so I can cast surreptitious glances his way.
But apparently, I’m not as subtle as I thought.
Dean lifts my wheelchair out of the back, unfolding it with an ease that surprises me before bringing it around to my door.
“Need me to stand back so you can get a better look?” he says, laughter evident in his voice, making me roll my eyes in return.
I lift myself into my chair, get settled, then finally look up at him. But I’m not prepared for the warmth and respect I see in his eyes. Or the open desire.
“You look amazing, Ri.”
