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“Are you dying?” Rosie asks while walking past me with a cart full of empty dishes.
My eyes narrow on her while she continues laughing on her way to the kitchen. My family must think I am losing my mind. Maybe I am, but I don’t care. I’ve had flings with women before, and dated a time or two, but most of them lose interest in the town, or they want more than a guy who owns a family restaurant. Becca was interested enough in the restaurant to help it get fixed, she’s even paying a hefty portion for it. Which reminds me, I still need to call back Chris and have him stop her deposits to my account. Becca has already helped more than she needs, and with the deal I worked out with Leo for the window, I don’t want her money. In the beginning I was upset and overreacted. She, on the other hand, handled the whole situation with grace and forgiveness.
With about five minutes to spare before she should be here to pick up her Calzone I duck in the back and grab the single red rose I had picked up in town earlier today. I catch a glimpse of blonde hair out of the office window and instantly stop in my tracks. Becca is getting out of a vehicle with a man I haven’t seen before. His black hair is styled back, the ends hitting the collar in his matching leather jacket. They look like they’re in a serious conversation, and I hope nothing bad is happening at her job. I’m about to keep moving when he suddenly grabs her arm. She raises her fist and she jerks his arm away. Okay, so maybe they aren’t co-workers. Her face turns icy, and his eyes glare at her. He’s saying something, but I don’t catch what it is before he gets back in the car and speeds away. Once the car is out of sight, Becca rubs her arm and red stains her cheeks. She shakes her arm out, then runs her hands over her face. Her gaze moves to the restaurant and I watch as the anger and frustration leaves her face and masks it all with a serene look and a smile.
Something about what I just saw doesn’t sit right in my gut and my hands clench into fists at my side. What the hell was that? Are they co-workers like she said? Why would he hurt her and then drive off? Becca starts moving toward the front door so I take a few deep, calming breaths. Tonight is not the time to pry. I have her all to myself on Friday, and I can ask her then. I want to learn about her life, her secrets, and let her be able to confide in me. I know if I ask now, she would feel defensive, and I don’t want our time together to start out with more tension that it already has.
“Rome!” I hear my sister Regan yell and finally snap out of my own thoughts. I grab the rose and walk fast back to the kitchen. I pop her calzone in a to-go box and meet her out front.
All eyes touch on us, and I can practically feel the eyes of all my siblings and my mom on me. Becca seems not to notice, her smile and eyes landing only on mine. I want to ask her if she’s okay, if her arm is bruised, to know how she’s getting back to where she’s staying. Instead I find myself smiling back at her.
“Hope you’re hungry,” I hand her the box and slide the rose on top.
Her sapphire eyes light up, and her hand moves to the red petals on the flower. “Is this for me?”
“Mmhm,” I nod, and a blush coats her cheeks. “I’ll pick you up Friday?”
“I have work first. How about I meet you somewhere?”
I instantly want to know if it has anything to do with the guy from earlier that she wants to meet, but then I have to remind myself maybe she is really just busy. I want all the answers, and that is what dates are for. To learn about each other. “Okay. I’ll text you the address.”
“Perfect,” She answers and her smile grows wider. “Well I better let you get back to it.”
“Yes, it's been pretty busy.”
“That's great though. I’m glad we got everything done in time,” She glances around and I hope she doesn’t catch on to my family peeking at us every two seconds.
“I’ll see you Friday.” She backs away, and with a smile and little wave she leaves the restaurant, and I’m back to missing her again.
* * *
Call me impatient but the days following Calzone day were horrible. I was anxious, on edge, and just wanted it to be Friday. That many days without seeing her face was a like taking a punch to the stomach. In such a small amount of time, I’d become addicted to her. Needed to see her, hear her voice, and know what she was doing. Texting wasn’t enough, and the minutes in between when she would respond to my texts, felt like hours.
It was finally Friday though, and I had a plan. A grand gesture of a plan that was hopefully going to clue Becca in on my feelings for her. I wanted more than one date. I want a dozen, I want to learn everything about her, I need to answer that call of attraction between us, and finally taste her lips with mine.
I end my shift at the restaurant and leave the closing to my oldest sister. She decided to have her boyfriend help her so he could learn, and for once, Joseph’s presence didn’t bother me. I actually felt better about leaving earlier knowing he would be there with her to close up and drive her home. I had started the prep for this date yesterday so there wasn’t much left to do tonight except warm up the lasagna, flick on the lights and make sure the candles were lit. When I sent Becca my home address I wasn’t sure how she would take it. My goal for the evening was not to end up in my bed together, but rather show her myself, and the exceptional view of the island from my rooftop.
I’m just lighting the very last candle when the doorbell buzzes. I fix the cuff on my button up shirt before heading back inside and downstairs to let her in. My heart was not prepared for the sight of Becca dressed up for a date. Her hair is down, in loose curls I want to run my hands through. Her long black dress hugs her body in a way that makes my blood heat. She looks gorgeous, and when she smiles at me I swear my heart stops.
“It is your house,” She laughs as I invite her in and her eyes touch on the furniture, the family pictures, and probably the kitchen where I had the food a while ago before bringing it to the rooftop.
“It is,” I confirm and close the door behind me, “But the reason I asked you here is actually the rooftop. I have dinner for us up there.”
Becca’s brow lifts, “Rooftop?”
I take her hand in mine and lead her up the stairs and outside. A slight November breeze cools the air, but not so much that we aren’t comfortable. It’s just enough to cool off from the sun which is now setting. From here, this view, it can all be seen. And in the distance the turquoise waters turn a deep blue, the color of her eyes.
“Wow,” she breathes out, her hands gently resting on the railing and looking out at the horizon. “This is seriously beautiful.”
I bite my lip, watching her enjoy the scenery and fall in love with this island, just like I am. I could watch this with her every day. That one thought has my chest squeezing and pangs of want and need roll through me. “Are you hungry?”
Becca turns wide eyes to me, almost like she forgot we were here to eat too. “Starving, actually,” she laughs right as her stomach growls in agreement.
I lead her over to the table I set up. Once we’re both seated, our plates are full of food, and wine glasses topped off, I ask the one question that's been plaguing me the most. “What do you do for work on a normal day?”
Becca’s lips part in a smile, but I catch a hint of something in her eyes, something like sadness. “I work at the docks. I help unload cargo.”
Not at all what I had thought she was going to say. Somehow I can’t picture it. “Is it seasonal work?”
