Jameson (Face-Off 4)

I tense a little from her touch, avoiding her gaze for a few seconds.

“Just as handsome as before.” She doesn’t say another word, and neither do I.

She bites into her sandwich, groaning in delight with each bite. The sounds she makes cause me to chuckle under my breath. But she doesn’t seem to notice, too consumed with how good her food tastes. For close to five minutes, we sit and enjoy each other’s company. This is nice. It’s not often you get the chance to do something so laid back with a woman, and on a date nonetheless.

After I finish the cheesesteak, I crumble the paper in my hand and look to Regan, who has just taken her last bite. I hold out my palm for her to give me her trash, and she does without a word. I push myself up from the ground, find a garbage can, and then sit back to down next to her.

“Sorry, this sucked so much. I’m sure when you’d asked me for three dates this was not what you had in mind.”

“This was perfect, Dimples,” she says, joking. “Any time I get to spend with you is better than none at all. I will take what I can get. Between your schedule and mine, we will probably have many dates similar to this one. It’s unfortunate, I know, but some things are out of our control.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re not pissed, Foxy.” I wink as I say the nickname I decided to give her the other night. “I don’t know many girls who would settle for eating on the ground outside a takeout restaurant.”

“I’m not like most girls. You should know that by now. I grew up mostly around men. I hardly ever had any friends that were girls. This is not the first time I sat on the ground to eat a meal, and it certainly won’t be the last, especially when it comes to you.”

“I guess anything I plan for our next date will be better than this one.”

“Way to set the bar,” she says, nudging me in the side with her elbow. “We can only go up from here.”

“That shouldn’t be too hard to do. I have a few things in mind for breakfast and dinner, if you don’t mind waiting until the end of the week. I wish I could do it sooner, but my schedule is killer.”

“If all goes well with the Flyers tonight, they should be home in a few days for game six. How about we plan our next date around it?”

“Charlie will be there, as well as Rico and thousands of other people, cheering in the stands. That might take the romance out of the equation for our dinner date.”

Regan peeks up at me, with a closed mouth smile. “There’s nothing romantic about eating greasy sandwiches wrapped in paper on a street corner, but this was one of the best dates I’ve ever had.”

“Now, I just feel sorry for you,” I say, with laughter in my voice. “Because while this is also one of the best dates I’ve ever been on, it’s not the nicest, by any means.”

“Is that sad or what?” She deadpans. “I need to pick better guys, huh?”

“You chose the right guy. I have to come up with something better. I hate that my job and Charlie take up so much of my day. And you have similar issues getting away from the office. We will make it work. I promise. I don’t care if I have to test my game in your office while we eat Chinese takeout.”

That earns me a smile that reaches up to her wide, blue eyes. “This week is going to be hell for me if the Flyers force a game six.”

“I can only image. The entire city will go insane. You won’t be able to go anywhere without a crowd of lunatics.”

She leans forward, using her elbows to prop herself up on her knees and cups the side of her face with her hands. “My dad was already having a stoke about it earlier. Everything has to be perfect for their homecoming. He stressed that about a thousand times. Poor Murph was running around the building when I left like a chicken with his head cut off. My dad is driving him crazy along with everyone else on the staff.”

“Win or lose, we will have another date this week. That much I can guarantee.”

“We can recreate our first date,” she says, her tone serious.

“This is our first date.”

“Well, I guess it wasn’t our first date, but it was our first encounter.”

Thinking about the night we had met, I la

ugh once. “You want to have nachos and soda for dinner?”

“Who cares,” she says, nonchalant. “The dates are not about the quality of the meal or the location. They’re about us getting to know each other. Whether you realize it or not, that’s exactly what we’re doing right now.”

“I’m glad we’re doing this. I like you more every time I see you. But I need to step up my game for our next date. Nachos will not do.”

“You could always throw in a pretzel or hot dog,” she says, joking and with a wicked smirk.

“Now, you’re talking, Foxy.” I wrap my arm around her back, taking in her sweet scent, as I hold her against my side. “I wish we weren’t in public right now.”