New Point (15 page)

Etta hums, and I hear her pen scratch against the notebook in her lap. “What else?”

“They’re honest, pure. Kids emotions aren’t hard to decipher and that can be refreshing in a world full of adults and hidden motives.”

“Did hidden motives hurt you in the past?” Etta drops her pen, focusing on me.

“It goes back to what I said before about my brother and his father. Guys found out about them and wanted to date me so they could get tickets to games or a job at the organization. Girls just wanted to meet celebrities or they lusted after my brother. It could be lonely. And then, the one dear friend I did have…” My stomach twists as I remember the look on Stella’s heartbroken face when I begged her to stop trying to save me. “I pushed her away after Clarkes, and I don’t know she’ll ever forgive me.”

I don’t realize a tear has trickled down my cheek until Etta hands me a tissue.

“Sometimes the first step is the hardest.”

I nod jerkily.

“After you’ve taken that step, the next tend to come naturally.”

“Picking up the phone is what I should do,” I say more to myself than to Etta.

“Homework assignment time.” Etta perks up, and I grimace, crumpling the tissue in my fist.

“There’s homework?” Now I sound like Duke.

“Write your friend a letter. Tell her everything, anything you held back. Don’t worry about the format of the letter, just write it. Bring it next week.”

“You have a thing with writing,” I tell her.

She shrugs. “Analyze me after you’ve tried it.”

“Okay.”

“Let’s circle back on something you mentioned before about working with kids. You said you’re attracted to the honesty of children.”

“They don’t hold anything back.”

“Say that one more time.”

Slowly, I repeat myself.

“From this chair, it sounds like you value honesty and forthrightness.”

“Sure,” I answer reluctantly.

“All I’m suggesting is that you think about the candid approach when you consider your relationships.”

Without saying his name aloud, I know she’s referring to Miles.

I
’m changing into non-work clothes for the evening when my phone vibrates with a text from Miles. He’s inviting me to a barbecue and bonfire on his patch of beach with his friends. He wants me to come over as soon as I’m ready.

I wiggle into a pair of denim shorts and an oversized sweater, eager to meet him. Foregoing shoes, I make quick work of crossing the beach and climbing the steps of his deck. I tap the back door with my knuckles because he’s nowhere to be found outside.

“Little lady, what a surprise.” Jake answers the door with a teasing twinkle in his eyes.

“Hey, Jake.” When I walk inside, he ruffles my hair affectionately.

In the kitchen Miles and Jake’s girlfriend Tess are piling meat onto a serving platter. At Blue in Green last week I was introduced to a group of Miles’ friends, including Jake’s girlfriend Tess and two guys – Brandon and Kyle.

“Get over here and give me a kiss,” Miles demands when he spots me.

“Needy much?” Tess teases, tossing a wink my way.

Who am I to deny the man who brought me out of the darkness? I stride across the kitchen and press a smacking kiss to cheek.

“What are we eating and what can I do?”

“Everything’s pretty much under control. We’ve got hamburgers, hot dogs, and I made macaroni salad. The other guys are bringing beers,” Tess tells me, referring to a few other members of their close-knit group of friends. As if they heard her speaking of them, Brandon and Kyle appear through the deck door where I had a few minutes earlier. After a chorus of hellos we gather in the kitchen, helping to finish the preparations for dinner.

“Zoe, I have to ask, how do you know Blake Campbell?” Tess asks as she flits around the kitchen. Like her boyfriend, she’s easy to get along with and full of good cheer. There’s only genuine curiously in her tone.

Miles appears by my side and places a comforting arm around my shoulder making me jump slightly. I’ve fielded this question many times before. “We’re related,” I answer vaguely.

“Does that mean you know his dad?” Jake chimes in.

“I do,” I hedge. “You a fan of his teams?”

Jake scoffs, “No, those fuckers blocked us from the playoffs last year and then had to win the whole thing.”

“Maybe it was those four interceptions that kept you from the playoffs,” I tease.

“You wound me,” Jake tosses back.

Miles tucks me against his side. “You have to admit, the girl knows her football.”

I look at the collective group all wearing friendly, relaxed smiles.

I fit in here.

Then, because it’s such a comfortable atmosphere, I offer something I haven’t since high school. “I could get us tickets to a game in the fall.”

“Yes!” Jake cheers, lifting his beer. “Zoe, I don’t know where you came from, but you need to stick around.”

Miles chuckles next to me. “I second that.”

Later, before the sun disappears completely from the night sky, Miles lights a bonfire and the small party relocates to the lakeshore. Tess and I spread blankets around the flames for us to comfortably sit. I’m dropping to my knees when a hand hooks around my waist. Miles settles me between his legs and wraps his arms protectively around the top of my chest. One of my hands drifts up automatically, covering his.

“Hi,” he murmurs against my temple.

“Hi yourself.”

I feel his tongue flicker out and taste the patch of shoulder revealed by my dipping sweater. “Two,” he says, continuing the freckle count he started on Sunday. Another trace of his tongue causes me to shiver in delight. “Three.” His voice is low enough that no one else hears him.

“Obviously any girl who knows her sports is hot. But how did you do it, Zoe?” Miles’ friend Brandon takes a swig of beer and then stares at me in amazement.

“Do what?”

“Reduce the big, bad Miles into a weak-kneed wuss.”

“Seriously dude?” I feel Miles shake his head behind me, but there’s humor lacing his words.

“You’ve got it backward, Brandon.” I nuzzle back into Miles’ embrace. “He’s the one twisting me up in knots. Before I moved to New Point I knew how to play it cool. My game now? Obliterated.”

“If you ever need to practice, I’ll gladly volunteer my services,” Brandon says.

Behind me, I hear a rumble emanating from Miles’ chest.

“Was that a growl?” I ask incredulously.

“This girl is all mine,” Miles says, and this time he’s serious. To hear him say that I’m his melts the edges of my heart a tiny bit.

I want to be his.

“Find someone else,” he finishes gruffly.

Laughing, I angle my head back to kiss Miles’ jaw. “He’s messing with you,” I whisper.

Miles dips down, locking lips with me in an obviously possessive kiss.

“I get it, I get it,” Brandon says with a chuckle.

“Good because I’m not letting her go.” Miles words are soft, only for me to hear. He squeezes me gently, emphasizing how much he means the words he says.

Like I’m struck by a bolt of lightning – realization jolts into me.

I’m ready to take the next step with him.

I
t’s Friday after work, and the date of my next outing with Miles. I rush home from work and spend an hour vacillating between delicious anticipation and uneasiness. Etta’s words from our last session hound me relentlessly. Whenever I’m alone or daze off at work, I remember her highlighting the reason I chose to spend my career with children—they don’t hide their emotions.

I wonder who am I to pursue a relationship with Miles when I refuse to be fully honest with him. There’s a pit of darkness lurking beneath my sunny disposition that won’t keep quiet forever.

What if he can’t handle my story?

There’s not much time to consider the possibilities because a knock sounds at my door. I smooth down the skirt of my dusky rose dress. There’s a drawstring to accentuate my waist, sweetheart neckline and slim spaghetti straps to display my newly tanned skin. I’ve curled my hair and pulled it off to one side, exposing my neck.

Miles lets out a low whistle when I appear from behind the door. “Are you trying to distract me?”

I raise an eyebrow, crossing my arms underneath my breasts. “The same could be said for you.” He’s wearing dark jeans that hug his long legs and hips in all the right places. The sleeves of a white button-down shirt are pushed up to his elbows.

Miles captures me around the waist, pulling me forward into the circle of his arms. I brace my hands against the hardness of his chest, my smile breaking free. “There are plans, you see. Careful arrangements organized for us this evening. We could stay here and forget about them, but that would ruin my fun.”

I consider his statements carefully. “Between a surprise dinner and staying here with you? That’s an easy one.”

“Oh, yeah?” He’s playing right along with me. “What does the lady prefer?”

“Dinner, of course. What would we do here, play checkers?”

Miles shakes his head slowly, a rumble coming from his throat. “You think I’m only good for checkers.”

I try to wiggle out of his grasp, but it’s no use, he lunges closer, lifting me off my feet with one hand while the other attacks my ribs in a vicious tickling spurt. “Okay, okay! Chess, too.”

“What are they teaching you about dating up in that city?” It’s a rhetorical question, and I only laugh in response. Still supporting my weight, Miles carries me to his massive, off-roading Jeep. Though he sets me flat on my feet, he doesn’t release me from his grasp. Leaning down he presses a kiss to the base of my throat.

“Four.” He counts another freckle, but really there’s a large patch of the little dots across my chest. My heart jumps in my chest at the attention, body craving more from him. With a knowing wink, he opens the door with a flourish allowing me to enter the vehicle.

The drive to the restaurant takes us through two towns, but it goes by quickly with our easy banter. Miles stops the car in a gravel parking lot with scarce amounts of other cars. The building in front of us looks more like a cozy bed and breakfast than a restaurant. The exterior is modeled after a Victorian style home with two stories of balconies framed with ornate white railings.

Miles fingertips touch the small of my back as we ascend the limestone staircase. It’s a soothing reminder that he’s present in the moment with me.

“This place looks lovely,” I tell him almost bashfully. I can’t remember the last date I went on like this.

He smiles softly, eyes shining with an emotion I’m unable to name. “Glad you think so, Zoe.”

Inside the décor matches the façade’s architecture. Sage green colors the walls, and the rich mahogany furnishings would make Ron Burgundy proud. The hostess leads Miles and me through the cozy, but quiet, dining room. It’s warm outside, but there’s a muted fire crackling in the hearth. To my surprise there’s only one table in the center of the room, set for two.

I glance at Miles questioningly as he pulls out the back of my chair. “Where is everyone else?” He doesn’t answer as I carefully sit down and he helps move my seat into place. Still silent as the hostess provides our menus. Once she walks away he smiles at me tenderly.

“I haven’t known you long, Zoe, but ever since I met you, I sense the best is yet to come. And I haven’t figured out what that all means yet; except for I want to be around you as often as I can. It may seem like I went through hoops to arrange something special for you, and maybe I did, but it was no sweat off my back to give you some of the sweetness you’ve shared with me.” He settles back into this chair confidently, not an ounce of insecurity in his words.

Does he notice me melting into a pile of breathless mush across the table? Miles doesn’t hold back his emotions. It’s refreshing and comforting. But more than that, I trust that Miles is as committed to this relationship as I am, even if we are only in the early stages. I want to move forward with him, deepen the intimacy between us.

He is so getting laid tonight.

Before I can respond, a waiter arrives to take our drink order.

“I meant what I said at the bonfire. Before you came along, I had all sorts of moves when it came to dating. The funny thing is, I don’t care about the games. When I’m with you I want to be myself,” I tell him earnestly.

Except for one huge part,
a nasty nag reminds me.

Miles’ expression softens. “Me too.”

The waiter halts the conversation again when he sets our drinks on the table and asks if we’re ready to order. Neither one of us has looked at the menu. We quickly decide what we want to eat, and he departs.

“You know, I’ve never asked you what your job was before you came to New Point. I always assumed you were a librarian at a public one in the city.”

My palms grow clammy and I fiddle with the stem of my wine glass to buy time. “No, you never asked.”

“I want to know everything there is to know about you. Let’s start with your last job before you became the town’s favorite new librarian.”

My cheeks heat with pleasure and maybe a touch of anxiety. He wants to know
everything.
If he knew it all, he might not want to deal with my baggage. Who would? None of my friends, except for one, hung around after it all happened…