Page 31 of At First Flight (Coral Bell Cove #1)

It almost feels like a special rite of passage to eat here, and I know that Lila is the one to open that door.

Every eye in the place turns in her direction once they notice our arrival.

Dozens of hands go up in the air, welcoming her home and greeting her like an old friend.

I can’t help but grin as the blush rises on Lila’s cheeks.

I catch a few knowing grins as I escort Lila to a booth toward the back of the restaurant. She slips across the vinyl bench easily, whereas I manipulate my large frame between the back of the seat and the table.

“Smells incredible in here,” I say, offering her a soft smile. She reaches for the plastic-covered menus propped behind the napkin dispenser and slides one toward me, returning my grin.

“It always does. Even when they’re closed, the smell lingers on the sidewalk outside.”

“Seems like you’d want to keep this place a town secret,” I say as I peruse the menu, my eyes instantly landing on a dish I haven’t had in years.

Heather, one of my parent’s kitchen staff, used to make chicken piccata whenever I’d come home for a holiday from boarding school, knowing it was a favorite of mine.

I’ve tried it at various Michelin-star restaurants, and nothing comes close to hers.

But I’m willing to bet Sweet Gum Café knows what they’re doing.

“As hard as we try, it’s even more difficult not to share Aimee’s dishes with the tourists.

Because they’re just that good. And that’s been in her family for almost a hundred years.

They had some hard times a few years back.

Betsy, Aimee’s grandmother, was diagnosed with stage four lung cancer.

It was like she went to the doctor one day, and then she was gone. ”

“I’m so sorry.”

Lila shrugs, but I don’t miss the light sheen on her lower lids. “Her husband wasn’t far behind, which left Aimee to pick up the pieces. Her parents weren’t in the picture, and her grandparents raised her.

“So the entire town chipped in to get the café into shape while Aimee took some cooking classes at a college about an hour away. Ten years later, here we are, and Sweet Gum is thriving. In the summer, sometimes the wait is over an hour. People drive from all around to taste the local dishes.”

Leaning across the table, Lila whispers as if she’s offering me a secret code. “Aimee always leaves a few tables reserved for locals during the tourist seasons.”

Chuckling, I lean back against the bench, hitching one arm along the top. “I like that story.”

Lila beams under my praise, and I reach under the table to adjust myself in my pants.

“And I like you,” I add, to which Lila rolls her beautiful eyes.

“So does everyone else, it seems.” Subtly, I nod toward the group of men wearing dirt-covered gear, the telltale signs of a day of hard work.

Since we walked into the place, their eyes haven’t left my nanny.

I can’t even be mad, as I see her appeal plain-as-day.

From our seat in the back, I face toward the entrance, watching as the sun settles over the line of trees. Streetlamps flick on, dueling against the orange rays to decide who gets to illuminate the sidewalk.

Beneath the table, I’m brought back to the moment when I receive a stern kick to my shin, only to look up and find Lila’s cheeks shifting to a color of red to match the tablecloth checks. She apologizes under her breath just as a harried server rushes to our table, offering her own apology.

“Sorry, folks, we’re a little short-staffed…oh my gosh! Well, if it isn’t Miss Lila Wright? I heard rumors you were back, but I thought, surely, she’d come pay me a visit,” the woman exclaims jovially with a hand settled on her hip.

Lila dips her head before stepping out of the booth, wrapping her arms around the curvy woman. The woman’s keen eyes latch onto me immediately and I feel the weight of their stare.

“And now, who might this be?” she demands, keeping a stern grip around Lila’s waist.

“Sorry, Lisa. This is Dean Harrington. He and his niece and nephew just moved to town. Dean, this is Lisa.”

“Nice to meet you,” I reply, outstretching a hand for her to shake. Not even the jarred up and down movement can shake the thought of Oliver and Evelyn being called my niece and nephew. They feel more like my own than my own sister did.

“Likewise.” Even lost in my thoughts, it’s hard to miss her appreciative tone.

As Lila settles back into her seat, we both order a glass of sweet tea, and Lila requests an appetizer of the she-crab soup and Lynnhaven oysters. Two dishes she claims will change my life.

Seems like most things from this town possess that quality.

“So,” she begins.

“So,” I repeat, settling my arms on the table, bringing my body a few inches closer to her.

“Want to tell me about the phone call?”

Immediately, I tense, my fist reaching for the first thing it comes in contact with, the set of utensils wrapped in a napkin, and clench it for dear life. My neatly trimmed nails dig into the skin of my palm.

Through clenched teeth, I say, “I’d rather talk about you first.”

“Okay,” she replies with a smile, clearly trying to lighten the tense mood that’s fallen over our table.

Thankfully, Lisa arrives with our drinks and promises to return shortly with our appetizers.

“I’ve read a few of your articles,” I begin, and her eyebrows shoot up. “What made you choose to study food allergies? Did I get that right?”

“It’s really embarrassing and sort of sad.”

Lisa chooses that moment to drop off our appetizers at the table, then takes our order, quickly scurrying off to greet another set of guests. I gaze at Lila expectantly as she reaches for her spoon.

Scooping out some of her soup, Lila glances at me, then asks, “How old were you when you had your first kiss?”

That is not what I expected her to say.

“Ugh, eleven?” I respond in question, wondering where she’s going with this.

She pauses, taking a few slurps of her soup, and I do the same, wondering if she’ll change the subject again.

“I was twelve.” Her chuckle is low with a condescending tone as she stares down at her bowl, spoon gripped in her hand. “You know, everyone says you always remember your first kiss, whether it be awkward or clumsy. It’s a moment most girls cherish. Me? Well, I’d rather forget.”

“Why?”

“Because the boy I kissed almost died as it was happening.”

“What?” I shout, my voice echoing off the wallpaper-covered walls. Silence fills the room, and Lila’s eyes dart around. “Sorry,” I say to her just as voices start to rise again. “Please continue.”

Her breathing changes to hurried and unsteady. “You know my family harvests strawberries. In the spring and summer, my siblings and I eat them all the time. I mean, they’re delicious.

“Jacob Jeffries had been my crush since kindergarten. During the town’s spring fair, he kissed me behind the cotton candy stand. I was in heaven. My crush actually gave me my first kiss, right?

“That’s when things went downhill. And fast. In less than five minutes, Jacob’s breathing went shallow until he could barely catch it at all.

“I rushed to find his parents, and then things got even more crazy. An ambulance came and rushed him to Norfolk General. He was barely hanging on, or so I was told.

“Apparently, he had a strawberry allergy that didn’t present itself until then. I was so embarrassed and terrified. Since that moment, I knew I wanted to try to find a cure or fix of some sort for food allergies.”

My fingers curl around the spoon, the metal digging against the rough skin of my palm as I think about the damage that the incident would have caused a twelve-year-old Lila.

“Wha…what happened to him?”

Lila’s shoulders rise toward her ears, then drop as she releases a heavy breath. “I don’t know. They moved away a year later. Mom mentioned that his lungs never recovered fully.”

“I’m sorry, Lila. I can’t imagine how it would feel to believe you knowingly harmed someone even though it was all clearly an accident.”

“Definitely didn’t feel like an accident at the time.” She sits back against the bench and sighs. “Still doesn’t. It took months for the guilt to subside a bit. I kept thinking, what if I’d actually killed him? All for a stupid kiss.”

“I’m sorry, Lila. Truly.”

“The worst part after I knew he survived was that I was terrified of doing anything with a boy ever again. Thank goodness for Ashvi. She’s the one who pushed me to do something good with what happened and dared me to kiss the quarterback of the football team in high school.”

My stomach bubbles in jealousy as I reach for an oyster.

“And…did you? Kiss him, I mean?”

“I never go back on a dare, Dean Harrington,” she says, grabbing an oyster of her own. Her head tilts back, and I take a moment to admire her long, sleek neck.

“Hmm…” I say as her stare collides with mine.

Lisa deposits our main dishes, and we eat in comfortable silence, but my mind keeps looping back to her lingering question from earlier.

I know Lila will drop it if I ask her to, but strangely, I want to tell her about the phone call from earlier.

I want to tell her why I so badly want to give those kids the best upbringing I can. I want to give Lila all my trust.

“Something wrong?” she asks, as she nibbles on a breadstick that came with her salmon dish.

“No…nothing’s wrong. Just thinking, that’s all.”

Gently cocking her head, Lila asks, “What about? The kids?”

“No, just wondering why this, being here with you, feels like something I shouldn’t want or have.”

She reaches out and swirls her finger across the condensation drips on her sweet tea glass.

“Do you still want it?” she asks, as if I didn’t try to flirt with her whenever we are in the same room. Though I have toned it down so I wouldn’t come on so strong. Lila’s like a small bird just learning to stretch her wings again.

“I think about you too much. And not just you with the kids. I think about what you’re doing when they go to bed.

I think about what you do on your time off.

I think about what you wear between your sheets at night.

Just…you’re one of my first thoughts in the morning and the last at night,” I confess, wishing I could press the cool glass against my head without embarrassing myself.

It’s the most open I’ve been to a woman since my last relationship—a chaotic affair that I swore I wouldn’t experience again.

Just as I’m about to brush my words aside and chalk it up to a moment of weakness, of vulnerability spilling out when I should’ve kept my mouth shut, Lila’s voice breaks through, soft and trembling.

“I think about you, too.”

My heart damn near stops. She’s not looking at me, not quite, her gaze dropping to the floor like her shoes have suddenly become the most interesting thing in the room. She shakes her head, trying to catch her breath and her balance, like admitting even that much has taken something out of her.

“We work together, Dean. You’re my boss, and the kids…” Her voice falters, trailing off into the silence stretching between us.

I scooch closer, not touching her, not yet. My hands curl into fists at my sides to keep from reaching for her.

“You were unexpected, Lila,” I say, voice low and raw. “I never meant to fall for you.”

Her eyes flick up, wide, disbelieving. “You have?” I can’t help but shrug because what I had thought was simply like… has turned into something far more meaningful.

God, the way she says that, like she can’t quite believe it, like no one’s ever looked at her and wanted everything.

Her cheeks bloom with color, a soft flush that crawls across her skin and makes my chest ache.

She’s standing so still, but her eyes… her eyes say everything.

There’s a softness there now, like maybe she’s letting herself hope. Like maybe she wants to believe me.

“I didn’t expect to,” I admit, leaning closer across the table just enough that I can smell the vanilla in her hair.

Lila mimics my movement, inclining I speak until there is barely any space between our faces.

“But with the way my chest pounds whenever you're close by, I’m smart enough to know what that means.”

Her lips part just slightly, and I swear to God, if I didn’t think it would send her running, I’d kiss her right then and there. But I don’t. I wait. Because she deserves to be the one who chooses.

Still, I don’t miss the tiny smile tugging at the corner of her mouth or the flicker of something tender in her expression. A spark. A maybe.

And it’s enough to keep me there, heart exposed, hoping like hell she’ll catch it.

Lila’s breathing changes—shallow, unsteady. Her eyes flick toward my mouth.

“I don’t even know what to say to that,” she confesses.

“I know. I’m not saying it to push you into anything. I just wanted you to know where I am with everything.”

“I just need a little more time,” she replies, the corner of her lip tilting upward as she mimics me.

“I know your ex hurt you badly, and you need to heal. I don’t make billions rushing into things, Lila.

I’m a patient man. I might spend every minute of every waking day imagining what it would be like to kiss you, hold you, taste you, have you.

But it will only become a reality when you come to me. ”

The air between us is charged, filled with restraint. I’m sure that if she gave the go-ahead, not even the people in the restaurant or the table between us could stop me.

Wanting her is the easy part. Not acting on my desire is the part edging me toward my demise.

“I’ve never felt wanted like this,” she says, just as Lisa sets down the billfold with the check. I slip a hundred inside without glancing at the total.

“I’m not going anywhere.”

“What about when my time is up?”

“I’ll still be here…waiting.”

“Dean,” she grumbles.

We leave the café just as the last bits of orange leave the sky.

The air has cooled, and the stars are just beginning to make their presence known.

One thing I’ve come to love about this town is the way the stars blanket the sky.

The only other time I’ve experienced their marvel is in Ashfield, Tennessee, visiting Talon, or when I took a trip to Iceland a few years back.

We walk back to my car, remembering I’ll need to drop Lila off at the school to get the SUV.

“Want to ride back with me, and I’ll call someone to pick up the SUV?”

“Do people just do whatever you want all the time?” she probes.

“Usually,” I reply as I press the button for the ignition, then turn to face her. “Everyone except you it seems.”