Charming as Puck(49)

Maybe this will work.

“Did you want to come in?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “I got us a table at—it’s a surprise. Do the dogs need to go out?”

My heart’s getting melty again, because that’s one of those little questions I never thought he’d ask. A detail I always assumed he overlooked, like me not liking mushrooms. “They just came in. Let me grab my coat.”

Two minutes later, we’re hopping into his Cherokee, which smells like it’s been freshly washed too. There’s a hint of lemon in the air, and the leather seats are cushy and warm.

“How was the shelter?” I ask him as he pulls away from the curb.

He grins again. “Awesome. Those animals are so cool. I took home three cats, a dog, and a ferret.”

“No,” I gasp.

His grin turns to a smirk, and I bat at his arm. “Not funny, Murphy. Because we all know who’d be taking care of your pets.”

“There was a kitten that followed me everywhere. Loud little cat. I couldn’t tell if she was chewing me out or asking me to take her home.”

“Probably both. You can’t pick a cat. It has to pick you. And now she’ll never be adopted since you didn’t get her.”

He darts a quick glance at me. “Seriously?”

I just smile.

Odds are relatively good the kitten’s just social and will be adopted in no time, but it’s fun to make Nick squirm.

“You have an evil side.” The blatant admiration in his voice makes me laugh. “What other secrets are you hiding?” he asks.

“According to your sister, my cousin, and all of my friends, my secrets are things you have to earn.”

We’ve barely gone three blocks, but he pulls the car over into the parking lot of my favorite breakfast diner and looks at me. “Why didn’t you ever call me on my bullshit before?”

Answering that question makes me feel more naked than I ever did when I actually took my clothes off for him. “You know that feeling when you’re on a winning streak, and you don’t want to change anything, you don’t want to shave, you don’t want to need new laces on your skates, you don’t even want to turn in a jersey that’s getting beat up for a fresh one that looks so much better, because you don’t want to mess with what’s working?”

He nods, not breaking eye contact.

“That’s how I felt about finally being close to you,” I whisper.

“What changed?”

“Me.” I lift my shoulders, because I don’t know how else to explain it. “I always thought I’d have a family by the time I turned thirty. And then…”

I trail off, but he finishes the sentence. “And then I was a dick on your birthday.”

“No, you were you. I just decided it was finally time I was me.” I don’t mention still wanting a family, because it’s pretty early in the date to freak him out.

But he wouldn’t have asked me out if he wasn’t willing to consider some of my hopes and dreams…would he?

I ignore the little voice in the back of my head that sounds like all of my friends combined sighing, It’s Nick, and instead, I smile at him. “So, are we going on a date to a parking lot?”

His smile returns, and he shuts off the engine. “Nope. We’re going to breakfast.”

“Here?”

“Here.”

“Elmer’s is…” I trail off, because Elmer’s is usually closed by noon. They’re breakfast-only, and it’s six in the evening. Elmer’s should be closed. But there are a few lights on, and two cars are parked at the back of the small lot.

He grins wider. “You like their waffles.”

I’m speechless for half a second, and then I do the only thing that makes sense.

I launch myself across the center console at him. “That’s so—so—thank you.”

His arms circle around my ribs. I kiss his cheek, and he turns so our lips meet, kissing me gently again, like he did Saturday morning, but I don’t want gentle.

I want Nick.

His stomach rumbles loudly.

“Don’t listen to it,” he says, angling back for another kiss, his hand sliding down my back toward my ass. “It can wait.”

My belly rumbles too, and we both crack up. Nick swats me on the butt. “All right, all right. Let’s get going. If I don’t feed your hungry tummy, I’ll never hear the end of it.”

“From who?”

“Felicity. She knows things.”

“She didn’t know about us for eight months.”

His stomach grumbles again, and we once again dissolve in a fit of laughter.

“Okay, okay,” I say. “If I have to eat waffles, I guess I have to eat waffles.”

“That’s the spirit.”

He grins, and if we laugh this much through our entire date, then it’s already shaping up to be the best date of my life.





Twenty-Seven





Nick



I still don’t know shit about being a good boyfriend, but I know that rubbing my foot up and down Kami’s leg while we devour waffles and bacon and she tells me stories about her family and her patients doesn’t feel like a date.