Whiskey and Country

15

NICHOLAS

It’s just a friendly date,I repeated to myself an hour later. For the one-hundredth time. Why was I so nervous? Because I wasn’t really a date person. And the last woman I kinda dated turned out to be crazy in her own kind of way.

I had a good feeling about Dahlia, though. Over the years, I’d fine-tuned my crazy-radar. It should work fine now.

But still, I didn’t want to screw things up with Dahlia. For some reason, it got me fretful. I wanted everything to be perfect. We got along great last week. But a formal date sounded more official. Like a real deal. Like I had no room to mess it up. Not that I had a track record of bad dates, but still. Dahlia Ellis wasn’t the kind of woman you let down.

In a swift movement, I discarded the towel wrapped around my midsection and rummaged through my wardrobe to find something decent to wear.

Casual, but not too casual. Dressed, but not too dressed.

Those were the words Greta used when she sent me the link to the restaurant.

That sounded easy, right? It should. But right now, her dress code tip confused me instead of helping me.

I scanned every piece of clothing I owned, trying to come up with the best outfit possible. And yet, nothing seemed nice enough. I ended up picking a pair of dark jeans and a black shirt. I couldn’t go wrong with that.

Buddy, who’d been spending all his time over at my place, neared me and sniffed around. “It’s called aftershave, old pal.” I patted his head, and he snuggled next to my feet. “You know you’ll have to move out by the time I go, right?” He snored as a reply. Great.

Half an hour later, after I fixed my hair away from my face and grabbed the bouquet of daisies I’d bought earlier, I made my way to my truck. Jitters invaded my belly. I sucked in a cleansing breath. Dahlia and I hit it off the other day. Except I hadn’t gone on a date in a while. How could Tuck do this all the time? I hoped for his sake it got easier with lots of practice.

My stomach tightened in a chain of knots at the idea that Dahlia and I could be much more than friends someday. Even if I tried to ignore it, tangible attraction simmered between us when we spent the afternoon together last Friday, and I couldn’t stop thinking about it all week. No, I hadn’t imagined the connection we shared.

No need to lie to myself. All my conclusions ended with the hope that we could evolve into something more.

“Okay, bro. Wish me luck. I still can’t believe tonight is happening,” I said, glancing at the sky. “I’m going on a date with one of your idols. Or rather, his best friend. Maybe you have something to do with it. Or not. In either case, if you do, thank you for watching over me. Now go play and let the adults be.” I winked, kissed two fingers, and raised my hand over my head toward the sky.

The door opened, and Dahlia stood on the other side, radiant in her blue dress, her wavy hair cascading over her shoulders, her eyes twinkling, and her smile disarming. My shoulders relaxed at the sight of her. “Hey, you look beautiful,” I said kissing her cheek.

Her eyes roamed over me in a torturous, slow motion. “You don’t look so bad yourself.”

Carter Hills appeared in my peripheral vision. He was much taller than I’d pictured him to be. For a second, I prayed Derek could see this moment from that cloud. Or wherever he was. I still couldn’t believe this was my life at the moment. The musician towered over me by a few inches. My back tensed again at the way he stared at me as if he could burn me alive only with his gaze. Flickers of apprehension woke up inside me. I felt so out of my element. Seeing him next to Dahlia, it all seemed surreal. She told me about his protective side. Right now, he looked like he was about to blow a gasket.

Ignoring him, I focused my attention back on Dahlia’s face. She was even more beautiful than I remembered. Her smile soothed my angst. Only she mattered. No one else.

A little boy, no older than three, with a mop of dark hair, the one I saw her with on the day we met—and a spitting mini-version of Carter Hills—wrapped himself around one of her legs. His grin was as contagious as his mother’s. He looked my way with the tiniest of smiles, and the simple curve of his lips sewed back another loose part of my heart. We watched each other for a moment as if we could communicate without words. The boy averted his gaze, and Dahlia kneeled to talk to him. The entire time, Carter’s eyes stayed on me. Laser beams. Not once did he blink or look away. He wasn’t how I pictured him in my head. Or how I imagined our first encounter. After a moment, he unfroze and padded toward the child and picked him up. No trace of friendliness was etched on his somber face. Anger undulated from him. Or was it annoyance? I couldn’t tell for sure.

Once close to me, he held out his hand. “Hi. I’m Carter. Nice to meet you.” He squeezed my hand hard. And I offered him a steel grip. I was from Chicago, not Chicken Town. His broody attitude had no effect on me. If he thought I would get fazed by his famous self, he was wrong. So damn wrong.

“Nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about you,” I said, standing tall.

“Please treat Dahlia with the respect she deserves.”

“I wouldn’t do anything less. I’ll be a perfect gentleman,” I assured, holding his gaze.

Dahlia spun around to face him and backhanded him on the shoulder. “Really, Cart?”

They exchanged a silent look. Something passed between them. Carter’s eyes turned to slits. Dahlia cocked her head as to say, “Are you kidding?”

He then offered her a wide smile, and she batted her eyelashes at him.

Whatever they told each other silently, Dahlia won, because Carter relaxed his stance, nodded at me, then stepped back.

“Good night,” he said before retreating somewhere inside the house with the boy.

Once away from her best friend’s inquisitive stare, I handed Dahlia the flowers I got for her earlier. She brought the daisies to her nose and took a big whiff.

“There’s something about flowers that makes me happy,” she said. “Thank you.”

Every time Dahlia and I texted in the last week, the conversation flew easily, and I hoped tonight wouldn’t be any different.

“Jack is the cutest.”

Dahlia laughed. “He has more of the Hills genes in him than any of mine. He’s a replica of Carter and Jeff when they were his age.”

“He has your face. It’s just hidden under that tuft of black hair.”

“My Mama says the same thing. And she says he’s easygoing like me.” She shrugged. “He’s my entire world. And he livens up my days. The most caring boy I know.”

We drove for the next few minutes in silence. I rounded the car to open Dahlia’s door when we parked in the restaurant lot.

Inside, the hostess led us to a black leather half-circled booth. Just as I requested, thanks to Greta’s advice. “Can we order wine on a friend-date?” I asked in a teasing tone as the server handed me the wine list and left after promising to be back in a couple of minutes.

Dahlia snickered behind her menu.

“I think it’s allowed. Except with Carter—when he’s in town—and Addison, my girlfriend, I rarely ever go out. My nights are usually low-key, spent at home with my son. I’m not really aware of the friend-date rules. But wine sounds really good right now.”

Her enticing smile widened.

And it vibrated through me as it exuded glee.

I winked, and Dahlia let out a heartfelt laugh. “Guess we could make our own. Rules, I mean.” She paused. “I’ve decided, and wine it is.”

Radiance painted her face.

“I like that. Dressing up and eating in a restaurant with wine is allowed. Dressing down and fixing a house too. I’m putting it out here since that day will come soon.”

Her cheeks turned a flaming shade of red, and she rested her joined hands on the table, zest animating her eyes. “What about kissing? Is it allowed between friends? I love when the boundaries are set and clear.”

I blinked. Did she really go there? When every minute spent in her company made it harder for me to picture her as just another friend. Like Tuck and Jace.

“Yep,” I said, taking a piece of bread to swallow the words that longed to be spoken out right now, but I knew shouldn’t. “Kissing is okay. If we both agree.”

She nodded, her stare fixated on me.