Ryan
I drove to Sam’s house to pick her up for our date, and I was more nervous than I’d ever been to take a woman out.
Sam wasn’t just any woman, though, and winning her over meant way more than just another notch in my bedpost. I didn’t want to mess this night up.
When I arrived at her house, I parked the car in the street, got out, and made my way up to her front door. I took a moment to take a deep breath and steel my nerves before I hit the doorbell. I told myself to play it cool, to use my charm.
Finally hitting the doorbell, I held my breath. A few moments later, the door opened, and that breath left my lungs in a rush.
“Sam, holy shit…”
She was stunning in a black bodycon dress that hugged her curves. It had a sweetheart neckline that showed off a tasteful amount of cleavage, and she’d let her dark brown hair fall loose around her shoulders. She was gorgeous, and I could only stare at her with my jaw dropped for several long moments.
Her cheeks turned pink, and she gave me a shy little smile.
“What are you staring at?” she asked.
Blinking, I shook my head and cleared my throat. So much for cool and charming.
“You look incredible,” I told her.
“Thanks.” She tucked her hair behind her ear. “Should we go?”
“Uh, yeah.” I nodded. I glanced over her shoulder into the house. “Has Henry got a sitter?”
“He’s at my parents,” she said, stepping out onto the porch and shutting the door behind her.
I felt a stab of disappointment, but I swallowed it as quickly as I could. As much as I’d wanted to see my son, Sam was my focus that night. Turning, I led her down to my car and opened the passenger side door for her like the gentleman I was.
Hurrying around to the driver’s side, I slipped in next to her and started the engine. I’d paid to have a rush job done to get my tires fixed, so I could show up to pick her up in my car and not a rented one. That would’ve only raised questions on her part, given how perceptive she was, and I didn’t want to lie to her face to avoid talking about my slashed tires and possible stalker.
“Where are we going?” she asked, looking up at me cautiously.
“That little bistro on the square.”
“Oh, Winona’s. It’s really good.”
“That’s what I was hoping.” I chuckled.
We fell silent as the drive continued. I drummed my fingers on the steering wheel, my mind trying and failing to come up with anything to say. I felt like I was blowing it, and we were barely five minutes into the evening.
When we reached the restaurant, I nearly sighed in relief. We got out and went inside. I’d reserved a table, so we were seated right away at a small table tucked away in a somewhat secluded corner. We’d have a modicum of privacy, though I wasn’t sure if that was a good thing or not.
We sat across from each other, and the waitress brought us menus.
“So,” I began, clearing my throat, “what’s good here?”
“It’s all pretty good,” Sam assured me. “I really like the chicken parm.”
“Sounds tasty.” I just managed not to groan out loud at how lame I sounded. I was normally really good at dating, if I could call this a date. Sam might object to that label, but what else could it be? A friendly dinner between potential co-parents? Then why would she wear that dress?
I realized my thoughts were rambling, and I quickly shut them down. The waitress returned, and we gave her our orders. She poured us wine and then left us alone again.
“So,” Sam said after taking a drink of her wine, “this was a bit unexpected.”
“Dinner? Well, honestly, I wasn’t expecting you to agree to it so easily.”
She grinned and shook her head. “You caught me off guard.”
I chuckled. “Oh, is that it? Well, I’ll have to catch you off guard more often.”
She dropped her gaze, and her cheeks turned pink.
“That’s all you seem to do,” she murmured.
Hoping that it would hide the flush in my own cheeks, I took a long drink of wine.
She didn’t look back up at me and instead gazed around at the rest of the restaurant. She was nervous, I could tell. Cautious, even. I needed to find a way to ease her tension and help her relax.
“So, tell me more about Henry,” I said.
Her head jerked up, and her eyes turned bright.
“Oh! What do you want to know?” she asked.
“Everything. Tell me anything you want to share.”
Her whole demeanor shifted, clearly eager to talk about our child.
“He’s such a great kid,” she gushed. “He’s smart as hell and a little charmer. He flirts with all the girls in his class. It’s so freaking adorable.”
“A little Casanova.” I grinned. “I love it.”
“I know I need to correct that behavior before he gets too big.” She chuckled. “But it’s just so darn cute, I can’t help but let him keep going for a little bit. He’s a very respectful flirt, though. I’ve made sure of that.”
I smiled. “I’m sure you have. From what I’ve seen, you’re an amazing mother.”
Her lips parted, and she looked momentarily stunned.
“Th-thank you,” she murmured. “I-I’ve done my best.”
I swirled my wine, staring down into the dark liquid for several seconds.
“I’m sorry,” I said at length. “That you had to do this alone so far.”
She didn’t answer right away. When I looked back up at her, she was gazing at me intently.
“I appreciate that,” she finally replied. “I haven’t been alone, exactly. I’ve got my parents, and Jason. My friends. You know. It takes a village.”
“So I’ve heard.” I chuckle dryly.
There was another beat of silence before she asked, “Why did you leave? Honestly. What made you run and never come back?”