Give Us a Chance (12 page)

"That the kiss I gave you was the best kiss you've ever had. That I kiss like a fucking pro. An expert. Someone who could give lessons to all the idiots you've kissed before who didn't know what the hell they were doing."

"You're awfully full of yourself, you know that?" Her lips tick up.

"I know when I'm good at something and I'm not afraid to admit it." I step forward, backing her against my SUV, my eyes on hers. "And I fucking know how to kiss."

"You really think so?" She leans back but there's nowhere for her to go.

"I know so." And with that, I grip the back of her head and bring her mouth to mine and kiss her hard. She grabs my coat and yanks me closer and I thrust my tongue in her mouth. It lashes with hers in a heated frenzy, and then we both slow down, parting just enough to breathe each other's air, our bodies relaxing. And then I kiss her again, softly, gently, my hand still cradling her head, and we continue on as if we're not standing in a parking lot in the middle of winter. As if we're the only two people here, despite the cars driving down the street and the people walking by. We're completely lost in the moment, lost in each other. It's surreal, and I don't understand it because I've never experienced anything like this before.

Ivy lets go of my coat and I look at her and see that her face is expressing exactly what I'm feeling. Uncertainty. Doubt. Fear. Because we both know there's something here. There's something between us. Something we haven't felt with anyone else, and never in a million years expected to find with each other.

I don't know what I was expecting with Ivy. Maybe she was just an experiment to see if I could really date a girl without it being about sex. Or maybe I was just determined to convince her to go out with me since she's the only girl who's ever said no. But when she finally said yes, I never expected THIS. This overwhelming need to make her mine and never let her go. Where is this coming from? It can't just be from a kiss, can it?

"Jake. I um..." She can't find the words and neither can I, so we both remain silent. I'm not ready for this. It's too much. It's too serious. It's freaking me out. So I interrupt the awkward silence and try to lighten the heaviness in the air.

"You ready to go?" I ask. "Or would you like to offer up more commentary about my kissing abilities?"

"We can go." She smiles but it's a devious smile.

"What? What are you hiding behind that smile?"

"Nothing."

"Just tell me. Are you saying that kiss wasn't good enough for you?"

She shrugs. "It was fine." She's such a liar. She wouldn't even look at me when she said it. But I'll play along.

"Fine? That's it?" I step back. "You don't know what you just signed up for."

"What do you mean?"

"If you don't think my kisses are the best you've ever had, then I'm going to keep practicing until they are. And I'll be practicing on you. And to make sure I'm covering all my bases, I'll be kissing you different ways, and in different places." I lean down and run my tongue over the delicate skin just below her ear, then press my lips to the spot and talk softly in her ear. "If you'd like to avoid all that, you might want to reconsider your assessment of my kissing skills."

I back away and notice her eyes are closed, her chest rising and falling as she breathes.

"Ivy?"

Her eyes blink open and she clears her throat, seeming embarrassed by her reaction to my words. "What?"

I smile slightly. "Would you like to reconsider your assessment?"

She pauses to think. "My assessment hasn't changed. I think you could do better."

My smile widens because she just agreed to be kissed anytime, any place, anywhere. I kiss her once more before she gets in my SUV.

On the way to the restaurant, I tell her about my day and about the meeting I had this morning. I hadn't planned to talk about work because I assumed she'd be bored by it. But she was actually interested. She kept asking questions about the building and the project and of course she wanted details about the woodwork, which made me laugh. Only Ivy would ask details about the window trim in an old building. But I love that she did. It shows how much she likes what she does. Carpentry is her passion, just like I have a passion for construction. We both like to build things, restore things, create things.

"This is it," I say pulling into the parking garage. "It's on the top floor and I reserved a table by the window so we'd get a good view of the city."

"How fancy is this restaurant?" she asks as I'm helping her out of the car.

"It's kind of fancy but the food is amazing and I had to make up for taking you to Rodeo Freddy's last night."

"I should've dressed nicer."

"Don't worry about it. You look beautiful. I love that sweater." I take her hand and walk her to the elevator and we ride it to the top floor.

"Does this place let you wear jeans?"

"They don't on the weekends, but during the week they're more casual. And I'm friends with the owner's son, so we're good. They won't kick us out." I give her a kiss but just a quick one. "How was that? That was my in-a-hurry kiss."

"It was okay, but why are you in a hurry?"

"Because we're here." I point to the open elevator doors, then lead her into the restaurant, stopping at the hostess stand. There's nobody there so we stand and wait.

"This place is really nice," Ivy says, going over to peek inside the dining room. It's dimly lit and windows line the walls, showing off the city views.

"Sorry you had to wait," a woman says, hurrying back to the hostess stand. She's a tall brunette wearing a white blouse, tight black skirt, and extremely high heels. I take my eyes off her and put them on Ivy, who comes back beside me.

"Jake?"

The hostess said it, and when I look over and see her face I mutter under my breath, "Shit."

I slept with this girl. Just last week. Fuck. Why didn't she tell me she worked here? Probably because I talked to her for less than an hour before we had sex.

"Jake Wheeler," she says, smiling. "Didn't expect to see
you
here."

I force a smile on my face and say, "I have a reservation."

"I see that. When I saw the name Wheeler, I assumed it was a different one. I didn't know you took girls to dinner. If I'd known that I would've insisted you—"

"Can you just show us to our table, please?" I put my arm around Ivy, who looks pissed. She knows I had sex with this girl but I hope she doesn't think I did this on purpose, trying to flaunt my exes in front of her.

"Right this way," the hostess says. I don't even know her name. I don't think she ever told me and I didn't ask. I met her at a bar and we did it in the back of my SUV. She was one of those girls who had seen me on TV last year and assumed I was some kind of local celebrity. All I did was talk about a Victorian mansion on the local news and somehow that made me a celebrity. So when Hostess Girl saw me at the bar, she came on to me, made her intentions clear, and less than an hour later we were doing it in my SUV.

"Enjoy your meal," she says, giving me a wink and a smile.

We're seated at a small, white linen covered table by the window. There's a candle flickering between us and jazz music plays softly in the background. It's the perfect romantic setting, except my date is pissed.

"Hey." I reach over and touch her arm because she's hiding her hands under the table, gazing out at the city. "I didn't know she worked here. I swear to you, I didn't know. If I had, I wouldn't have taken you here."

Ivy whips her head back to me. "You said you're friends with the owner. And you didn't know one of your exes worked here?"

"I said I know the owner's
son
, not the owner. Jason doesn't know who his dad hires. He has nothing to do with the restaurant. He doesn't even live here. He's in med school in Minnesota."

"How long ago?"

"Are we seriously going to do this? We're here to have a nice dinner, not talk about who I've been with."

She sighs. "You're right. I shouldn't have asked. I just...never mind." She picks up her menu. "So what do you recommend?"

"I usually get the ribeye. But I've heard the salmon is good too. That's what Austin always gets."

"Austin is your youngest brother, right?"

"Yeah. He's a health and fitness freak. He eats salmon all the time because he thinks it's good for him."

"It
is
supposed to be healthy." She closes her menu. "But I'd rather have the steak."

"The ribeye?"

"I think I'll get the sirloin. The ribeye's really expensive."

"I don't care how expensive it is. If you want it, order it."

The waiter approaches us. "Can I get you some drinks?"

"You want to split a bottle of wine?" I ask Ivy.

"Sure."

I order a bottle of red that's more expensive than I would normally get but I want this to be a nice dinner. It didn't start out so well thanks to Hostess Girl but I'll get it back on track.

When the waiter returns, he pours our wine, then asks if we're ready to order.

"We'll both have the ribeye," I tell him.

"Actually, I'll have the
sirloin
." She glares at me when she says 'sirloin'.

"If you don't mind my input," the waiter says, "I would recommend the ribeye. It's a much better cut."

She forces out a smile. "Fine. I'll have the ribeye. Thank you."

He leaves the table and I hold up my wine glass. "Should we toast?"

"Could you please not order for me again? And if you do, at least get my order right."

"You wanted the ribeye."

"I wanted the sirloin."

"Because you were worried about the price. Now would you stop arguing with me? You're bringing down the mood."

"ME? I think your little reunion with the hostess was—"

"Ivy. Can we just start this date over? " I nod at my raised wine glass. "I'm still waiting to make my toast."

She holds up her wine glass. "What are we toasting to?"

"To our third date. May it be just as magical as our first." I say it dramatically, like I'm in some Shakespearean play.

She bursts out laughing. "Magical? That's how you'd describe our first date? At Hoedowns and Rodeo Freddy's? And why are you toasting to our third date? What about our second? It's not worth including in your toast?"

"Our second date just started. There's not much to say."

"Okay." She's still laughing as she clinks glasses with me.

We sip our wine, and I lift my glass again. "Actually, I
would
like to make a toast regarding our second date."

"Go ahead." She holds up her glass.

"May my skills in the art of kissing improve to a level you find acceptable." She goes to clink my glass but I pull it away, smiling. "Correction." I lower my voice and lean toward her, my eyes locked on hers. "To a level that makes you weak in the knees. Wanting more." I pause. "
Begging
for more."

She backs away and I see her swallow, then she clears her throat, clinks my glass, and takes a big gulp of wine. Her face is flushed, and I know it's not from the wine, but from my words and the images they conjured up in her head.

"It's good wine," I say, setting my glass down. "Don't you think?"

She's quiet, still hung up on my words, but then she snaps out of it and says, "It's excellent. But you didn't have to take me here. It's too much money. This is a really expensive place."

"What good is money if you don't spend it?"

"I guess. If you have it." She looks down at the napkin in her lap, then adjusts the fork next to her plate.

"Is Nash not paying you enough?" I ask.

"What?" She looks up at me. "No. He pays really well. That's not what I meant when I said that."

"Then what do you mean?"

"I just...never mind." She takes another sip of wine.

"Ivy, I'm trying to get to know you here. So tell me what you meant."

"I don't want to talk about money problems during dinner."

"You have money problems? Then Nash isn't paying you enough. I'll talk to him tomorrow."

"Jake, don't. I mean it. He pays me more than any of the jobs I had before I started working for you guys. It's just that I have a lot of expenses and sometimes it's hard to keep up. I pay for my own bills, but I also pay for some of my dad's because his disability checks aren't enough. Liza said she could probably get me a job at Hoedowns for a few hours a week but—"

"No," I blurt out, the thought of guys leering at her in that tiny outfit making my blood boil. "Don't work there. The guys who go there are assholes."

She grins. "You're saying you're an asshole?"

"Just tell me you're not going to work there."

"I couldn't even if I wanted to. If some guy touched my ass, I'd yank him from his chair and kick him in the balls, which I'm guessing is frowned upon by management. I'd be fired before I could even finish my first shift."

I smile. "Is that my warning to never touch your ass?"

"Only if I'm your waitress at Hoedowns, which will never happen."

I'm taking that to mean she wouldn't mind me touching her ass. But not tonight. I need to take this slow.

"So going back to what you said earlier," I say. "Your dad's having trouble paying his bills?"

"I don't want to talk about it." She looks out the window at the skyline. "It's a nice view."

"Ivy." I touch her arm and she looks back at me. "Tell me what I can do to help."

"You can't help. I just need to find some more work. Do you know of any?"

"No. Sorry. If I had some extra hours to give you, I would, but right now, we don't have any."

She nods. "That's fine. I'll figure something out."

"I've been there, you know."

"Been where?"

"Struggling to make ends meet. The company hasn't always been successful. When I was younger, my dad struggled to pay our bills.
 
My mom had to take care of us kids so she couldn't get a job. It was up to my dad to bring in the money, and sometimes he had to work day and night just to put food on the table. I know our situations are different but I'm just saying that I know how tough it is, so if you need help—with anything—just let me know."