Committed (6 page)

“Good,”
I
said. It made
me
happy to hear that. “I’m pretty sure she really likes you
too.”

I
stood on my tiptoes and kissed his moistened lips.

*********

When
I
woke up the next
morning, Braxton had already gone to work out but he had left a note that said,
“Please don’t make any plans for tonight.
I will call you later and explain.”

I
couldn’t imagine what he was up to, his fight wasn’t for two days and it was a
Thursday night. As far as
I
knew nothing special was
going on around town or on campus.
I
spent the rest of
my morning thinking about it when he finally called.

“Hey, beautiful,” he said.

“Hi, what’s going on?”

“Well, I was thinking when I met your mom last night
that I really liked that, and it was kind of like what a “normal” couple might
do. She made
me
think about things like picking a girl
up at the door, meeting her parents and kissing goodnight on the front porch.
We haven’t exactly been the most normal couple since we got together.”

“True,”
I
said. “So are you
trying to tell me that you’re in love with my mother?”
I
quipped.
I
couldn’t resist.

“
Ew
!
No!”

“
Ew
?”
I
asked, still messing with him.

“No, not
ew
about her.
Your mother is a nice looking
lady…just, damn it,
Emmi
!” He was all flustered. That
rarely ever happened and
I
found it hilarious. But
I
also felt a tad bad.

“I’ll stop.”
I
laughed.
“What were you trying to tell me?”

“I was trying to ask you out on a date.”

“A date?”

“Yeah, I want to pick you up at your door, take you
to a nice restaurant, walk you to the door when I take you home and kiss you on
the porch.”

“That sounds great.”
I
literally felt warm and tingly inside. “What time should I be ready?”

“I’ll pick you up at seven.”

“And where are we going, so I know how to dress?”

“Wear something low cut and tight,” he said with a
laugh.

“Just when I thought there was hope for you after
all,”
I
said.

“I’m kidding; just wear whatever you would wear to a
nice restaurant.”

“Okay, will I see you before seven?”
I
asked.

“Nope, I’ll see you then,” he told
me
. Then right before the call disconnected,
I
heard, “I love you.”

That evening as I got ready for our “date” I
wondered where he was getting
ready at.
Wherever he
had gone it worked for him. At exactly seven p.m. he rang the doorbell.
I
felt both silly and overwhelmed with gratitude toward him
for doing this as I answered it. He was wearing a black shirt that looked so
soft
I
wanted to touch it. If
I
knew Braxton, that was probably the point. He was clean-shaven and he had on a
faded pair of blue jeans that fit him…just right. He was also holding a big
bouquet of mixed flowers.

He was turning into the full package.

“Hi,”
I
said, already out
of breath.

“Hi,” he said with the grin
I
loved so much. “You look amazing.”

I
was wearing a short light blue dress. It ended just above
my
knee and although the cut of it was simple, it was feminine and it made me feel
sexy. Even more so when his eyes darted up and down
my
body.

“Thank you, so do you,”
I
told him.

“These are for you,” he said, holding the flowers
out toward
me
.

“They’re gorgeous,”
I
told
him. Then, playing the part
I
said, “Would you like to
come in while I put them in some water?”

“Sure, thanks,” he said. He followed
me
inside and then stood like a gentleman at the door and
waited for me to find a vase to put the flowers in.

When
I
finished he politely
asked, “Are you ready?”

“Yes, I am.”

He held out his arm and led
me
out to the truck. Then, he opened the door for
me
and
holding me by the waist helped me up.
I
kept my eyes
glued right to his sexy ass as he walked around the front of the truck to the
other side. Damn
I
was lucky.

As we drove to the restaurant he said, “So how long
has it been since you’ve been on a real date?”

“Wow, um…a couple of years…”

“Seriously?
That guy must be a bigger sleaze than I thought.”

I
didn’t respond. He was right but
I
didn’t want to talk
about Trent. To Braxton’s credit he changed the subject. He was talking about
his fight, which
I
didn’t want to talk about either,
but it was preferable to Trent. Anything was.

When he finished talking about the things Sam had
him do to get ready for his upcoming fight
I
asked,
“So, where are we going for dinner?”

“Seraphina’s, is that okay?”

“I don’t know it, but I’m sure it’ll be great.”

“It’s an Italian steakhouse. By far one of the best
I’ve been to.”

“I’ll take your word for it.”

As we drove
I
stole glances
at him, trying to size him up as I might on a first date. He was gorgeous, that
was a given but he was also confident and self-assured. He made
me
feel safe.
I
looked at his hands
resting on the steering wheel. He had scars on his knuckles from fighting;
I
shuddered when I thought about it. But otherwise, he had a
nice, thick, masculine hand.
I
imagined how it felt
when he touched my bare skin. If it had been a first date with someone that
I
hadn’t had sex with already I wouldn’t have been thinking
about such things.
That made me giggle
.

He looked at
me
. “What’s so
funny?”

“I was just having a carnal thought, but then I
remembered that this was a first date and the best I should be hoping for is a
good night kiss.”

“That’s open for negotiation,” he said with a
lustful look.

“By the way,”
I
told him,
“I forgot to tell you how good you smell.”

“Thanks.
I
may have laid it
in on a bit thick. I got ready at the gym and that place smells so bad I was
afraid some of the stench might land back on me after I got out of the shower.”

I
laughed. “Well, whatever you did, it worked. You smell great.”

“Thanks and so do you.”

When he parked at Seraphina's
I
opened my door to get out not noticing him coming around to my side. When he
got there he grabbed the door, held it and reached up with one hand to help
me
down.

“Oh, I’m sorry,”
I
told
him. “I’m not used to this whole date thing.”

"Well get used to it. We’ll make it a regular
thing. You deserve to be treated special.”

I
thought I blushed, but luckily it was dark out and he couldn’t really see my
face. He gave
me
his arm again and led me into the
restaurant. The tables didn’t have regular chairs, but instead they had high
backed,
overstuffed couches that stretched along the wall on
one side and big, comfy matching chairs on the other side. Braxton had made a
reservation for us, so the hostess took us straight to our table. As we
followed her, Braxton put his hand on the small of
my
back, and his light touch awakened all my nerve endings. It was like my mind
and my body had accepted that it was a first date and reacted
like
it was his first touch.
We
were led
to a cozy booth in the back, away from the
bar, which seemed to be in the midst of happy hour. The music and noise barely
penetrated through the barrier of the big, comfy couches. The lighting was dim
but there was a candle burning on the table and it added another touch of
romanticism. We sat across from each other.
I
thought
since we had waited so long to have our actual first date, we didn’t have that
weird, first-date awkwardness between us.

Just after
I
had that
thought, we both tried to talk at once. We both smiled and then in unison we
said, “You go first.”

"You first,"
I
told him.
"I'm really glad we’re doing this.
Last night, having
dinner with your mom, and tonight, dinner with just the two of us.
It
makes me feel like we’re a real couple.”

He had a little tremor in his voice as he spoke. He
was nervous reverting back to the days before he was a campus stud.

“I’m glad we’re doing it too.”

“You know something,” he said. “When I was in high
school, you would have been the kind of girl who intimidated the hell out of
me.”

I
snorted. “I doubt that.
I
was such a dork in high
school. I would probably have been as intimidated as hell by you.”

“Okay, we’ll agree that we were both dorks. I’ll bet
you were a hot dork though,” he guessed winking.

Before
I
could respond the
waitress showed up, saving me from having to come up with an answer. She
brought our drinks and took our food orders.

When she left
I
said, “So,
you’ve told me a lot about your dad, what about your mom? I don’t really know
anything about her except that she passed away.”

A frown covered his face immediately and
I
felt bad right away. “You know
what,
I’m sorry, never mind.”

“No, it’s really okay,” he said. “I just don’t get a
chance to talk about her much anymore. It makes Callie too sad and
I
’m not talking to my dad about anything.
I
don’t have to.
My
mom was beautiful. Not just on the
outside, she had this light inside her that shined out all over everyone and
everything she touched. She was a hostess in a restaurant like this one. She
was so good with people. She made everyone feel like her friend. She was the
best mother a kid could have asked for.”

I
felt bad as I saw a tear escape and run down the side of his face.
I
changed the subject and through dinner and then afterwards
we talked about everything. We talked about
my
mom and
dad and his sister, our first jobs, our likes and dislikes. We laughed and
joked, debated politics and religion and scoffed at each other’s taste in
music, but agreed on our taste in books. Then we talked about what each of us
wanted for the future. He talked about his computer business and
me
my photography one. Neither of us mentioned the elephant
in the room, his MMA fighting, or the fact that
I
still hadn’t
really
responded to his
expressions of love.
All the while we talked
my
attraction for Braxton
grew.
I
watched him as he spoke, fascinated by the
simple movement of his lips.
I
couldn't seem to stop
smiling.

I
finally told him, "Braxton, I'm really glad you asked me to go out on a
real date with you. I would have never had the nerve to ask you on a real
date.”
I
was only half-kidding. “This means so much to
me and I'm having a great time." Braxton beamed back at the stupid grin
that was stuck on
my
face.

When the waitress came over with dessert menus we
both politely declined. My chicken
alfredo
was delicious and I had eaten every bite.
I
was
stuffed so full that I could barely move. We were both surprised to hear that
the bar was about to close, neither of us had realized how late it had gotten;
we had so much fun just passing the time talking.

While Braxton drove
me
home, I realized how tired I was.
I
tried to stifle a
yawn behind my hand, but Braxton noticed.
"Tired, huh?"
"Yes. The long week is catching up with me,"
I
said with a grin in his direction. He knew exactly what had been keeping
me
up at night.

"Me too," Braxton agreed, looking at
me
and flashing a grin before focusing again on the road.
When we got to our apartment building, Braxton parked the truck.