After we’ve showered together, where he gives me one more orgasm, telling me it’s to tide me over for the next twenty-four hours while he’s on shift, he heads to work.
After meeting Lexi for breakfast, where I gush about how amazing being with Chase is, and we share stories about our guys, I go home and spend the next several hours working. When I’m all caught up, I lie on the couch, wishing Chase were here, and binge watch an old show.
As my eyes are closing, a text comes in from Chase: I have to cover for a guy tomorrow morning, so I won’t be home until later, but I want to take you out. Be ready for 5:00.
Butterflies swarm my belly.
Me: Will do.
At five o’clock on the dot the next day, there’s a knock on the door. I groan, seriously hoping it’s not another one of Chase’s sex toy skanks.
Reluctantly, I get up and open the door, mentally preparing myself. Only it’s Chase on the other side, dressed in a pair of black dress pants and a royal blue button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.
Before I can ask him why he’s knocking on his own door, he pulls a bouquet of multicolored flowers out from behind his back, and my heart flutters. “For me?” I ask dumbly. I’ve never been given flowers before.
Chase chuckles. “For you.”
“Thank you. They’re beautiful.” I take them from him and bring them into the kitchen. They’re already in a pretty vase, so I just add water then set them on the center of the table.
“You look beautiful,” he says, his eyes traveling down the length of my body. I’m dressed in a floral print dress that stops several inches above my knee and ties in the front, exposing a bit of cleavage. I’ve paired it with my black Saint Laurent peep toe heels.
“Thank you. Do you keep clothes at work?”
Chase’s expression turns nervous. “I, um, well, I used to leave from work sometimes and go out…” Ah, during his playboy days.
He clears his throat. “You ready to go? We have reservations at six and you know how traffic is around here.”
Flowers… reservations… “Are you trying to romance me?”
Chase throws his head back with a laugh. “Yeah.” He closes the distance between us. “That’s what boyfriends do, butterfly. We romance our girlfriends.”
Not all boyfriends do that, I think but don’t voice out loud.
“Okay, but just so you know, I’m already a sure thing, so if it’s to get in my pants, it’s unnecessary.”
Chase chokes on his laughter. “Good to know.” He kisses the corner of my mouth. “But it’s not to get in your pants. It’s to remain in your heart.” My heart stammers in my chest. I didn’t know love could feel like this, and I’m so thankful I didn’t give up on finding it. If I had, I wouldn’t be here with Chase.
We arrive at Cove 54 a few minutes before our reservation and are brought to our table right away. After the waitress reads off the drink specials, since it’s a bit of a special occasion, I order an Apple Pie martini. Chase orders a Coke.
When the waitress walks away, Chase raises a brow. “An Apple Pie martini?”
“What? It sounds good, and we are on a date… I figured I would adult.”
He laughs. “Okay, adult. How was your day?”
“Good. Yesterday, I met my mom and Lex for breakfast. It was nice. I got a lot of work done. Went for a jog…”
The waitress sets our drinks down and I take a sip. It’s delicious. Fruity and sweet. We order our meals, and once she’s excused herself I ask Chase how work was.
“It’s been unseasonably dry, so the amount of fires have been higher than usual. Hopefully it rains soon.”
We spend our meal flitting from one subject to the next. I love how well we click and how our conversations are comfortable and flow easily. I don’t have to think about what to say, it all just comes naturally.
When dinner is over, Chase declines dessert, telling me he knows a place that has the best homemade ice cream sandwiches. When he was little and he and his sister would get good grades, his mom would take them here. It was a bit of a drive, but worth it.
It’s within walking distance from the restaurant, so with his hand in mine, we walk there. There’s a bit of a line, but it moves quickly.
“One chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream sandwich,” he tells the woman.
“We’re sharing?”
“Trust me, they’re huge.”
After he pays, she hands him the dessert. He’s right. It’s more than big enough for two people. The cookie is gigantic and is bent in half like a taco, with the ice cream in the middle.
“It’s not a sandwich. It’s a taco!”