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Jesse
I feel like a cad for pumping the brakes the way I did. I’m worried I made her feel bad for kissing first.
I have to go about this delicately. I don’t want this date to end, but I also don’t want to ruin anything by going too fast.
Mariam’s special. I want to take my time. Get to know her. And then I want to marry her as soon as possible. That kiss? That laugh? Those dimples? This woman has ruined me for anyone else.
Outside in the movie theater parking lot, things feel awkward. She’s oddly silent, and I don’t have any charming words on the tip of my tongue.
“Am I … taking you home?” I ask reluctantly when we reach the truck.
I stand with the passenger door open for her, but she’s not moving. Mariam’s staring at me, her face soft, her fingers touching her chin where my stubble left a slight pink color from our kissing. I’ll have to be more careful.
“Do you…want to take me home?” Her lovely eyebrows knit together, showing me her hesitation.
“No,” I say straight. “I’m not ready for this date to end. We haven’t even had the chance to talk yet.”
She hangs her head, and I don’t like that. “That’s my fault for picking a movie instead of going with your plan for dinner.”
“Hey.”
“I shouldn’t have jumped you like that. I’m sorry. I don’t know what came over me.”
This, I really don’t like.
“Mariam, look at me.”
And here I am, telling her exactly how I feel in the middle of a dirty parking lot. “I’m frickin’ crazy about you.”
She looks surprised, and I know I haven’t been doing any of this dating shit right if she’s surprised.
“I should have asked you out the second I met you. I knew there was something there, but I didn’t recognize it. I was coming to apologize, but something happened to me in your bake shop. I left, and I had this weird feeling in my chest. An empty hole. I ate my weight in donuts all the way back to the ranch, but the feeling didn’t go away. The farther I got from you, the more I ached.”
She blinks, unsmiling, still looking shocked. “Indigestion?”
“Mariam, I’m serious.”
“I am too, friend. That’s a lot of donut grease, no wonder you felt sick.”
Why is she not getting it? “I felt pain being away from you because I wanted to stay and talk to you. Look at your dimples. Stare at your face. Make you smile. I thought I was being inappropriate and selfish, feeling so damn attracted to someone who had initially tried to date my son. But I don’t care about any of that shit anymore. I want you, Mariam. And I don’t want anyone else to date you.”
Her pink mouth falls open, her lips still swollen from our kissing. “Oh.”
“Do you want to date other guys?”
She shakes her head.
“Do you want to date me?”
Her perfect brows come together as if I’m talking crazy because it’s so obvious. “Yeah.”
“And do you care that my son is pissed about it?”
Her dimples show, and my body floods with relief.
“No,” she says. “And I don’t care that half the women in town are pissed at me. Real Estate Joyce should have bid on old Harley Pipps while she had the chance.”
“I’m yours to date, then. All yours.”
