Where Love Finds You (The Unspoken Series) (8 page)

“I’m right there with you. I actually—”

“Are you two ready to order?” Our waitress popped back into the picture.

“Oh, forgive us,” he said. “We haven’t opened the menus yet.”

“No problem.” She snapped her pen. “I’ll come back in a few minutes.”

That’s a good sign. Menus still closed on the table while our hearts were opening up to each other instead. What am I doing? I thought. I scooted back in my chair and looked down.

“You okay?” Patrick smiled. Something so sweet and innocent about his face. From a distance he looked so mature and manly, strong and defined. Up close he still looked his age, early-thirties probably, but the way the lines under his eyes pulled up his smile made me feel like a kid again. 

“I’m okay.” I tried to sit still. “Something about this just seems so weird to me. I always wanted to fall in love in an unexpected way. To meet someone across the coffee shop and end up talking until the sun wakes us out of our stupor. This is so unnatural to me.”

“Maybe that makes it unexpected.”

“That it’s unnatural?” I smiled. “That’s a good point.”

“I never thought I’d be here either. This is honestly the hardest thing I’ve ever done in my life.”

“Really?”

He looked away, across the restaurant, dazed. “Yeah. I just don’t feel ready. And I like you. And that makes me even more nervous.”

“Well, if it makes you feel any better . . . I feel the exact same way.”

The lines around his eyes creased again, lifting his lips into that child-like smile.
Did I just tell him I liked him? I didn’t mean to say that. I can’t believe I just said that.

“We better look at the menu,” he said, opening to glossy images of artistically arranged steak and chicken. 

I opened mine and, well, nothing appealed to my stomach except a reprieve from the butterflies flapping around inside of me. 

“You know,” he said. “Nothing is really standing out to me. How about we go get ice cream instead?”

My heart smiled along with my face. I couldn’t believe the way I felt. Excited. Nervous. The way it felt to look into a man’s eyes and actually feel that promise . . . could this really be happening to me without the coffee shop mystery man? Could someone else be my one? Or could there really be many choices in a sea of fish, and I just had to pick one for me?

He led me outside and we decided to take his car. 

“Excuse the mess.” He opened the passenger door and shoved a few papers into the backseat. “I always have papers in my car. I’m not the most organized.”

“What do you do for a living?” 

He held up his hand, motioning for me to wait. Then he walked around the car, got in beside me, and put the keys in the ignition. “I don’t like answering this question.”

“That bad, huh?”

He laughed as he backed up, his hand about two inches from my shoulder. “I’m a chiropractor.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

“Well, when I tell most people I’m a chiropractor they think I am rich. Fact is, I own my own place, just started it, and even when I worked for someone else I made less than thirty-thousand a year.”

“Money isn’t important.” I looked out the window. “Neither is loving what you do. Honestly, jobs are jobs. Even the things we love the most become just that . . . a job. There’s always a negative or a stress when you have to do something to make money, instead of pure enjoyment.”

“That’s true.” He stopped at a red light and looked at me.

I looked away, unable to handle his penetrating eyes. My emotions were leading my mind. Not used to it. I didn’t like it. Part of me wanted to get out of the car immediately, but I must have enjoyed some part of it. It felt like falling in love, something I waited so long to experience. How could I know he is the one? How could I know whether to let myself fall in love with him? 

He accelerated the car and I looked at him. Handsome, to say the least. 

He looked at me. I looked away.

“You wanna go to More than Just Ice Cream on Locust Street?” he said.

“That sounds nice.” I smiled. “I love their—”

“I love their Candy Land flavor.”

“Wow. That’s exactly what I was going to say.”

Within a few minutes we were standing in line for ice cream. He stood so close to me I could smell his cologne. Light and clean with a hint of citrus. Made me want to lean in closer. 

He ordered two exact ice cream dishes. We moved over to the register and I pulled out my wallet. Gently, he held my hand and put it back into my purse. 

“Ladies never pay,” he said. 

Butterflies. The warmth of his touch lingered on my skin.

After ice cream we went to a local park and sat under the long arms of an oak tree. I took off my shoes, he took off his flip-flops, and we leaned back on the tree trunk together. Everything with him happened so naturally. I couldn’t wait to tell Sarah. She would never believe I let go of my analytical brain for a few hours and actually enjoyed myself. I couldn’t believe it either.

Hours passed. Literally like minutes. We talked about everything from music to what kind of houses we like. The time went too fast, spinning us right into the next morning.

Patrick looked at his cell phone. “You won’t believe this.”

“What?” I smiled. “Is it almost sunrise?”

“Not quite, but close. It’s four in the morning. I haven’t done this in years.”

“I don’t know if I’ve ever stayed up this late.” I rubbed my eyes. “And I have to work tomorrow.”

“You mean today.”

“Yes, thanks for the reminder.”

He looked at me. Silly grin turned serious. We sat close all night, often touching arms or legs, but he never tried to kiss me. The thought made me nervous. I promised myself my lips would never touch another man’s lips until I knew it was the one I’d marry.

I looked away. His fingers brushed my hand, finally resting on top of my fingers. I looked back to his dark eyes. 

“I’m sorry.” He squeezed my hand. “I really want to kiss you.”

I nodded and smiled. He touched my chin and made me look at him again.

“This is so hard for me,” he said. “It’s been a while since she died, but I never thought I’d fall in love again, much less desire it as much as I do now.”

I looked down at our locked fingers. She? He brought up a she in the middle of a perfect first kiss moment? Dee never mentioned a she. 

“I’m sorry.” He squeezed my hand again. “Did I say too much? Are you not interested at all?”

I tried to smile. “You didn’t say too much.”

“Dee told you about my wife, didn’t she?”

I raised my eyebrows. The she is a wife. Speechless, I stared at him, but he said nothing. I put on my shoes. Patrick did as well. The previously married man that I almost let myself kiss. I stood and he reached for my hand. I moved over.

“Patrick,” I said. “I have to be honest with you. I saw a guy in a coffee shop when I was younger. It’s been years since then, but I think about him every day. Dee set me up on this date because, well, I guess because she knew you and I would like each other.”

He nodded. “I haven’t felt like this in a long time.”

“You are a great guy. Attractive, sweet, funny, smart, and creative. You are everything I’d ever ask for in a husband. Of course we don’t know each other well, but I could have easily given my heart to you after this first night.”

He nodded, a mixture of sadness and excitement painted in his brown eyes. “I think that’s a description of a nice man, but not this one.”

“And add humble on top of that. Listen”—I took a breath—“I have loved this guy I’ve never met for the last few years. I’ve promised myself I would wait for him and never give my heart to another person. I know I’m probably crazy and maybe I’ll never meet him. Maybe there isn’t one person. Maybe soul-mates don’t exist. I don’t know, Patrick. I honestly don’t know. What I do know is that my heart belongs to that man across the coffee shop, and yours belongs to your wife.”

“Everyone tells me I need to move on. I understand your point and your desire to wait for this other man, but what if you never meet him? I know I will never bring my wife back to life. She’s lying in the ground right outside of Philly.”

My eyes watered. “You are lonely. I am, too. But that doesn’t change the fact that you have a wife and I have a husband. Just because we can’t kiss them doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”

“You don’t think I should move on?”

The ivory moonlight emphasized the tears in both of our eyes. “I don’t think you should. You just referred to her as your wife. You didn’t say ex-wife. Go put your ring back on. Stay faithful to her even now. There is only one and you found her. Just because life took her too soon doesn’t mean you have to take her out of your own life.”

“That seems impossible.”

“It does. And I won’t blame you if you get married again. I know I’m idealistic. I know I’ll probably spend the rest of my life single, but I’d rather be single forever than married to someone else. Maybe this was meant to happen so that I could see that. Maybe it was meant to happen so that you could see it, or just to know that you can fall in love again if you want to.”

“This has been the most interesting night of my life, hands down.”

I laughed. “I agree.”

We walked back to his car and drove back to the restaurant in silence. We exchanged phone numbers at the end, gave each other a warm hug, and I even gave him a kiss on the cheek.

“Keep in touch,” he said. “I want to know if you ever find this man. He is one extremely lucky guy. Your story should be in the news. I’ve never heard anything like it.”

“Thanks.” I laughed. “Well, it won’t be worth the news if I end up single until I’m ninety.”

“Yes it will.” He smiled. “Trust me, it will.”

"What were you thinking?” I said to Gavin as we walked down the busy city street toward coffee and deliciousness. 

He laughed. “She seemed nice. I had no idea it would be that bad.” 

“Bad doesn’t do it justice, Gavin.”

He laughed again.

“I’m serious, and you expect me to go out this weekend with another one?” I shook my head and squeezed his shoulder. “Don’t think so, man. You couldn’t pay me.”

“You’ll go. I promise this one will be better.”

“I’m not doing it. No more blind-dates. Just let it go and if I’m meant to find someone, that’s great. If not, that’s wonderful. Blind-dates don’t work.”

“What if I allow you to set me up on a blind-date too?”

“Yeah. I can count the amount of girls I know on one hand, and they’re married. Being with someone for the last few years didn’t give me much time to meet single women.”

“Which is good.” He opened the door to Chances. “How about this . . . I will try a dating site and you will go on another blind-date.”

I followed him into the cafe. The sweet aroma of chocolate cake and coffee found its way to my wallet. We only intended to come in and check on his paintings, but by the time I got to the counter I already mentally ate an entire slice of triple chocolate cake. 

“You getting something?” Gavin said.

“Yeah. And about the blind-date thing . . . no, thanks.”

A young man, probably just out of high school, stood at the register. “Can I get you guys something?”

“I’ll get a piece of that cake, and also an iced caramel latte.” I handed him a twenty.

Gavin looked around. “Is the owner here?”

“No,” the guy said. “She was supposed to be here this morning, but she called and said she’ll be in later this afternoon.”

“Okay, thank you.” Gavin glanced at the walls. “I gave her some of my art to look at and wanted to check and see what she thought about it.”

“Can you come back this afternoon? She will be here then. I’m new here and don’t know much about the art.”

“I can try.” Gavin said, then turned to me. “You going to be around tonight? Maybe we can come back for the live music and have a talk about your future dates.”

The cashier guy gave me a brown paper bag and my coffee. We nodded, thanked him, and walked outside and toward our apartment.

“I have a job later, but you should definitely come. This would be a great opportunity for you.” I sipped the refreshing latte and scarfed down the cake in two bites.

“Whoa.” Gavin smiled. “Would you like me to go buy you another piece?”

I grinned a chocolatey grin. “I’m good, but you should get one for yourself tonight. I can’t even describe how good that was.”

“Weird that we used to work there. It looks like a completely different place.”

“Tastes like a completely different place, too.”

Gavin and I passed time playing music together until he left to meet the
Chances
owner and I went to check out a new job site. Normally I did consultations during the day, but this woman worked at home during the day and preferred me to come later. Evening it is, I said to myself as I drove out of the city and into Collingswood, a nice little suburban area in Philly.

I pulled into her driveway and gathered my papers and paint sample books, then walked up to her door and knocked.

No answer.

I ruffled my papers a little, looked at my watch, and knocked again.