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Her gaze, which had been focused on me this entire conversation, immediately hits the floor. “I know a thing or two about compromising yourself to please others.”
It’s quiet for a few moments until the silence grows heavy between us. I want her to offer more, to unload on me every memory she’s experienced that made her so insightful, but I can tell by the distant look on her face she’s recalling something she doesn’t want to.
“Lainey,” I whisper.
She lifts her head, immediately plastering on a smile.
“Thank you. I hope you know I appreciate this.”
“The coffee?” she teases, pushing off the wall to smooth out the invisible wrinkles in her scrub top. She quickly checks her watch before looking back at me.
“Coffee, right.”
“It’s my pleasure,” she says, using my previous words back at me.
I lean back, relaxing into the chair and spreading my legs to balance, doing everything I can to invite her into my space, feeling a playfulness take over after the serious conversation. “You say that like you care about my pleasure.”
She gives an exaggerated eye roll, quickly turning to hide the blush that I knew would cross her face. “Enjoy the rest of your day, Dr. Ryan.” She exits the door quickly without a second glance.
I turn back towards the desk, lift the cover off the cup, and already know this coffee is going to be a thousand times better than the shit I’m used to. I take a slow sip. “Holy shit,” I blurt out, not expecting it to be as good as it is. Might even rival what Imake at home with fresh ground beans. She was right about the coffee. Right about my mom. Everything about her is just right.
Chapter Thirteen
Lainey
Golden leaves crunch beneath my shoes as I make the short walk to Quartino’s. I tug my jacket tighter, wrapping my arms around my core to keep out the fall chill. Each step I take matches an anxious exhale, my mind still coming to terms with the fact that this is my first date inyears, literally.
Whoever I meet tonight might be a fine man, with no glaring red flags for the average woman. It’s been years since my ex, but I still feel the weight of the baggage I carry with me. A sad sack filled with the broken pieces that I so badly want to fit back together. It nauseates me to think of adding a man into my life, of opening myself up to commitment.
But then there is Dr. Ryan. Handsome, smart, supportive Dr. Ryan. I can lie to Jenna until I’m blue in the face, but I’d be lying to myself if I said he didn’t consume my every thought. If I didn’t wonder how his shift was going, let my mind wander to him and imagine what he does on his days off. I wish I knew why he isn’t married off to some ridiculous Miss America queen right now with a cluster of beautiful, dark-haired babies to come home to.
With a heavy exhale, I pull open the large wooden door to the dimly lit restaurant. My eyes adjust to the change in lighting as I admire the hand-painted tiles that line the entryway wall. The hostess stand sits at the mouth of the restaurant, a view of the large bar trailing behind. Heavy wooden chairs belly up to the sleek, mahogany bar top, nearly full of patrons as the dinner hour approaches.
“Lainey?” an unfamiliar voice calls my name as a tall, slender, and very handsome man stands from the waiting bench.
“You must be Colton.” I reach an awkward hand out for him to shake, and he chuckles, stepping closer to wrap his arms around me for a too-tight hug.
“I’m really glad you’re here, I’ve been looking forward to this for weeks.” His grip slides down my arm to grasp my hand, leading me past the hostess stand and into the bar area. His hand a cold concrete slab in mine. His brazen confidence with a first-time meeting, combined with how much he’s touched me in the forty seconds I’ve known him, leaves my stomach in knots.
A server walks by with a full tray of food propped on their shoulder, and my mouth waters at the sight of chicken parmesan. I had an early lunch and didn’t have time to snack this afternoon. I’ll sit through any date just as long as we get to eat.
To my surprise, he leads us to two open bar stools, pulling one out and ushering for me to sit.
“Is there a long wait for tables?”
He shrugs. “I didn’t ask. I’m not hungry. I figured we could sit and talk over a bottle of wine to start.”
Well, shit.
“A glass of wine would be great.” I shimmy off my jacket and hang it along with my purse on the arm of the chair. “In full disclosure, I’ll have to eat at some point. I’m starving and after a glass of wine I’ll probably be drunk.”
I pull out the drink menu from the pocket on the bar, perusing the white wine list for whatever is the lightest. And cheapest.
He flags the bartender over with a snap of his fingers. “We’ll have a bottle of Rosso Di Montepulciano, two glasses.”
The bartender nods once, leaving us to disappear around the corner.
“What’s that?” I lean over to ask Colton.
