January felt her body recoil as Deckard softly pressed his hand at the small of her back to guide her from the store. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to feel Deckard’s touch, but anyone’s touch simply felt unfamiliar to her.
She could tell that Deckard felt her body flinch, and she murmured an apology, but January knew that her reaction only caused more questions to arise.
He grabbed a dark gray wool coat on their way out the door and wrapped his large frame in its warmth as they stepped over the threshold. She thought better than to let him know that she missed his touch already, but she didn’t have to wait long before he seemed to miss touching her as well.
Deckard slid his hand down her arm to capture her free hand in his. Had anyone ever taken the chance to merely hold her hand, share a quiet strength with her? For some reason, January couldn’t shake the feeling that if she needed someone, Deckard would be there.
“So, where are you taking me?” January inquired just as her stomach grumbled in response. Luckily, there were too many people milling about on the sidewalks for Deckard to hear.
“My grandmother mentioned a new sushi place a few blocks over. Is that okay?”
She was surprised he asked. Most men didn’t care about her opinion on where to eat. She was more or less just a trophy on their arm – a pretty thing for them to look at.
“Sushi sounds great, actually. I don’t go out to eat very often unless it’s somewhere with Samantha, and she’s not a very adventurous eater.”
“Really? You seem like a worldly woman,” Deckard pointed out as they waited at a crosswalk for the light to change.
“I wish. I actually get pretty homesick when I go away to follow a lead on a story. I work for the newspaper, by the way.”
“I see. So leaving Pineville for, say a boyfriend, isn’t something you’d be interested in?”
She looked up at Deckard after his assessment. His face didn’t show any emotion, except maybe a hint of curiosity.
“Um. . .I don’t know. I’ve never given much thought to it, and I’d like to say that I’d follow my heart wherever it may take me. But honestly, you’re probably right.”
He squeezed her hand gently as they crossed the street toward the next block.
“Good to know,” he said, then winked at her. Freaking winked with that same knowing smirk that he had given her this morning. It had the same effect on her as watching a sexy man wear gray sweatpants. January wanted to see Deckard in a pair of gray sweatpants with nothing else on underneath. She was confident that he had that deep V-cut on his hips that guided onlookers to the best part of his maleness.
January’s cheeks heated at her dirty thoughts of the man walking beside her just as snow flurries began to lightly fall around them.
“Tell me about where you’re from,” January prompted, trying to distract herself from her heated thoughts.
Deckard told her that he grew up in Atlanta, Georgia and how he had always wished that he had grown up in a small town like Pineville. When his grandparents moved up this way a few years back, he had been the first one to hop on a plane to visit them. He had fallen in love with the town at first glance.
His dental practice operated as a partnership, which he explained meant that he could always leave to open his o
wn practice if he wanted. Deckard told her that was what he had been saving toward, but as he crept toward the age of thirty his mother had been on him to settle down.
“She would like you.”
Curious, January asked, “Why do you say that?”
“Because you don’t seem to be the kind of person to take shit from anyone. And from what I can tell, and what my grandparents have said, you’re honest and caring. And quite beautiful.” She blushed again this time at his words and not at her internal musings. She didn’t know what to say. Compliments always made her feel uncomfortable, even when she won prom queen her senior year of high school, she barely looked up at the crowd when she crossed the stage to get her crown. “Hey, we’re here.”
“Thank goodness. I’m starving.”
Together Deckard and January shared a platter of sushi and enjoyed a Japanese beer as they shared little anecdotes of their time as children. January felt that she shared more of herself than Deckard had. But it wasn’t that Deckard was holding anything back, January could tell based on her instincts, he just didn’t have any thrilling stories as an only child. She had three other siblings, and as the youngest by almost ten years, she had numerous stories where hilarity ensued. She also enjoyed watching his face morph with each story she divulged. He was an expressive listener, and she liked that about him.
The sun had set a couple hours ago and the snow had fallen steadily while they ate. As the server took away their plates, Deckard and January both glanced out the window and watched as the streets lit up with Christmas lights and decorations. Deckard’s face morphed into utter happiness. His smile widened and eyes began to sparkle, January witnessed it all in his reflection in the glass pane. Then she took in her own expression, her downturned lips with a slight snarl and her narrowed eyes. She was the complete opposite of Deckard. January silently wished that she could understand how Christmas could bring people so much joy and happiness – she had hated the holiday for so long that it seemed impossible to change.
“Hey,” Deckard called out as he reached his hand across the table to grasp hers. “Want to talk some more about the bomb you dropped this morning?”
“Do I have to? It’s not really something that I share with anyone.”
“You never have to do anything that you don’t want to do, January, and I’d never force you to. But I like you and I’d like to know everything.”
She liked him too. . .a lot, she just realized.