Page 12 of Finding Romance (Romances in the Building #2)

CHAPTER TWELVE

Piper

Why am I nervous? I look at myself in the bathroom mirror for the tenth time in as many minutes. I look fine. I feel like this is my first date. Sighing, I open the door because no more amount of prepping can have me relaxing over this practice dating thing. What was I thinking?

“You look lovely,” Margie says as she walks down the hallway. Margie always appears calm as a cucumber. I wish I had a fraction of her ability to remain unfazed by life.

“Thank you,” I reply as I walk into the living room.

Aunt Cornelia is knitting in the chair Kasen brought her.

I swear between her and Margie knitting and crocheting, they could start a clothing line.

A cup of tea sits on the side table and some horrible reality show about couples meeting on a tropical island plays in the background.

“So, you’re seeing a movie with Kasen?” she asks, her eyebrow rises but she doesn’t look up at me.

Instead, she keeps her focus on the two sticks working back and forth in her hands.

I make a mental note that I should have her teach me how to knit.

She taught me to crochet when I was a kid, so knitting ought to be easy enough.

“Yep. Hey, can you teach me how to knit?” I ask.

She stops and looks up at me. “I suppose so. We can have a lesson tomorrow.”

I smile and she motions for me to come over to her. I walk up beside her chair and she looks up at me. For a long second, I think she’s going to say something important, a piece of grandmotherly advice. But boy am I wrong.

“There are condoms in my nightstand drawer. Take three. Slash that. Take five. Kasen seems…prolific,” she states and then waves me off to her room.

I half cough and half laugh. “I…uh, no. That’s not happening. It’s just a movie and some food.”

She eyes me suspiciously. “Fine, but at least take one.”

She reaches into the pocket of her robe and pulls out a small foil packet and my eyes nearly bulge out of my head.

“Aunt Cornelia! Why in the hell do you have a condom in your robe?” I squeak.

She shoves the packet into my hand. “Because safety first.”

“Oh, honey, I don’t think you want to know the answer to that,” Margie says from the kitchen.

There’s a knock at the door, and before I can put the condom in my purse, Kasen is standing there staring at my hand. He gives me a curious look and I blush.

I’m about to explain, but Aunt Cornelia eyes him up and then me. “Don’t take advantage of my niece, Kase, or I’ll castrate you myself,” she says sharply.

Now it’s Kasen who looks rattled. “Of course not, Cornelia.”

“Alright then. You two young people have fun…but not too much fun. I’m in no condition to go bail your asses out of jail,” she says as she looks suspiciously between us.

“On that note,” I say as I grab my purse, shove the condom in it, and walk out the door with Kasen in tow.

“Have fun!” Margie calls out from the kitchen as Kasen shuts the door.

“Well, that was…uh, interesting,” Kasen states as we walk down the stairs.

I groan with embarrassment. “I’m sorry about that. They are, uh…” I trail off because I lack words.

He chuckles. “Oh, I know.” He presses his large hand to the small of my back as we exit the building. And something about that feels oddly reassuring.

“So, where to?” I ask as I look up and down the street for a clue as to our destination.

“You said a movie and dinner. So first up is dinner,” he announces as he guides me to the right and we begin walking down Hearts Lane.

With the park one building down to the left, it’s quiet in this section of the city.

No cars can pass through here as the street dead-ends into the park entrance with its wrought iron arch at the start of the walking path.

It’s a quiet fall evening. Leaves are starting to turn colors on the trees and fall flowers pop with color in window boxes and planters, giving the street the feel of a sleepy suburb instead of a bustling city thoroughfare.

“We’re walking there?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No, my car is parked just here.” He motions to a very large, black SUV. If I had imagined the car that most perfectly describes Kasen, this would be it. Not flashy. Large. Practical, although not super practical for city parking. And non-descript.

“No garage?” I ask because I know my aunt keeps her car in the garage underneath the building. It’s not enormous but enough for one car per apartment and then a few guest spots.

“I pulled it around front for you,” he says as if the answer is obvious.

He hits the unlock button of his fob and opens the door, holding out his hand to assist me. I accept it and slide into the seat. He waits until I’ve secured my seat belt before shutting the door and walking around to his side.

He pulls us out onto the street and heads in the direction of the water.

I don’t ask where we are going but, instead, take in the city as night begins to blanket it in a comfortable darkness broken up by streetlights.

I look up as the buildings get taller. We drive through downtown and then a block from the waterfront.

He pulls into a small parking lot behind an equally small building.

“Is this the part where you murder me and toss my remains into the water?” I ask.

He leans over the center console, and I can smell his cologne. I take a deep breath. He searches my eyes. I watch the skin around his eyes crinkle as he grins.

“Nah, not tonight,” he says and hops out of the car.

I unbuckle my seat belt and he’s already opening my door when I go to exit the car.

He places his hand on the small of my back again and guides me around the building.

I see that it’s an Italian restaurant. And it has a beautiful deck next to the walkway along the water.

Little fairy lights run in strips crisscrossing the area and space heaters are turned on.

There’s no one out there and I wonder if they aren’t serving outside this evening.

It is a little chilly by the water but still unseasonably warm.

We walk inside to the hostess.

“Reservation for Saddler, party of two,” he says. I see the young woman do a double take of Kasen before grabbing menus.

“Of course. Right this way,” she says as she walks past us and right back out to the patio. I grin.

We follow her outside and she shows us to a table near an outdoor pizza oven along the walkway. We sit and she takes a drink order and then leaves us to peruse the menu.

“Is this OK? Are you too cold?” Kasen asks.

I shake my head. “I was hoping we could eat out here,” I admit with a little shrug.

“I may have called in a favor with an acquaintance. A friend’s brother is the chef here.”

I nod and look down at the menu deciding on my meal. After I make my decision, I gaze out at the water. It’s calm, the crests of the little waves glisten with the lights of the walkway.

“You like the water?” he asks, following my gaze.

“Yes,” I reply.

“But you said you don’t swim well.”

I nod. “I’m not a strong swimmer. If you dropped me in the middle of the ocean, I wouldn’t last long.

” I look back out at the water. “I was just remembering snorkeling in Belize a few years ago. Mom took us there. She ran a small race on an island and then we got to go out to the reef for two days. I used a floatation device. It was beautiful.” I pause and smile at him. “It reminds me of your tank.”

He grins. “Belize has a great reef. I’ve gone there to dive a few times.”

The waitress brings our drinks and takes our order, and we go back to a comfortable silence as we watch a boat go by in the distance.

“I miss having a boat,” he admits.

“You had one?” I ask, enjoying the fact that he’s sharing something with me.

“I did. But I’ve been traveling so much that it didn’t make sense to keep it dry docked year-round. So, I sold it last year,” he says, his voice tinged with a little sadness.

“Sorry. Maybe you could buy another one,” I suggest.

“Maybe, someday.”

“So…” I look around. “What should I be practicing?”

“We are practicing. This is just the part where we get to know each other,” he explains as he reaches for the bottle of wine he ordered and pours himself some. He offers me his glass and I take a sip. It’s surprisingly good for a red wine. I’m more of a white wine drinker.

“It’s good,” I declare.

He smiles again and takes a sip. Setting down his glass, he pours some for me.

“You said you were staying with your grandmother for a while. Do you speak to her often?” I ask.

I can see a flash of something cross his face. I can’t quite tell what he’s thinking. Did I overstep? Does he not want to talk about his family? He hasn’t said much about them.

“I do,” he finally says after a beat.

“So, Scotland, huh?” I ask.

He nods. I wait for him to continue.

“Isle of Barra,” he states. “It’s a small island in the…”

“Outer Hebrides,” I finish.

His eyebrows twitch a little as if he’s trying to not react to my knowledge.

“Yes,” he says. “My grandfather was a fisherman. Both of my grandparents grew up there. We had to take her to Stornaway to get her treated when I was there. She needed some treatment for her lungs because she had bronchitis and her foot needed X-rays. She couldn’t do much around the house after we got back home, so I stayed and helped.

I didn’t want to leave until I knew she was strong enough to be on her own, aside from when a young woman comes in to help her out during the week. ”

“I bet it’s hard to live out there alone,” I say as I remember visiting the islands in middle school with my mom after she had run a race in Scotland.

“It is. So, when did you go there?”

Our food arrives and I spend dinner telling the story of my travels, wondering if I met his grandmother when we spent two nights on the island.

“Where to now?” I ask as we finish eating dessert. Kasen didn’t order any but he keeps stealing bites of my gelato.

“Not far,” he says.

He pays despite my protest that I should pay, and we walk back to the car.

We drive back toward Hearts Lane and stop at an old theater close to the apartment building.

He finds a street spot and we walk a block.

It’s showing two old movies. I pick one and we get tickets.

He asks if I want popcorn and soda and I shake my head.

I’m still full from dinner. So we find seats in the theater and settle in to watch the film.

There are only one or two other people in the theater and none near us. I shiver, realizing I’m under an air-conditioning vent.

“Cold?” he asks.

I nod and he leans over, wrapping his arm around my shoulders.

I curl up against him as best I can with the armrest blocking me, but he’s warm enough that after a few moments, I feel less chilled.

The film is a thriller and I think we’ve both seen it, but we sit and watch in silence.

At some point, I feel his thumb making small circles on my upper arm.

I don’t push away, instead, I snuggle up more against his hard warmth, breathing in his cologne as I watch the ending of the film.

The drive back to one-eleven Hearts Lane doesn’t take long. He finds a spot on the street in front of the café and walks me to my aunt’s door.

“Did you have fun?” he asks.

“I did. Thank you,” I say as I look down at my feet unsure of what to do on this practice date. I steal a glance up at him from beneath my lashes. “Did I do OK?”

He nods. “Yes. When you find a topic to discuss, you are very good at talking to people.”

I shrug. “I guess so. I just get nervous.”

“Do I make you nervous, little escape artist?” he teases. I want to scream, “Yes!” But instead, I shake my head.

"Good. We should have another practice date, just to make sure you aren’t nervous.”

“OK. When?” I ask.

“Maybe in a few days? Think about something you’d like to do,” he offers. Kiss you. Maybe make out with you. Oh my God! I need to stop this. We are only practicing dating. And then I’ll be gone in a few weeks. What am I thinking?

“Can I ask you a question?” I say, deciding I might as well take advantage of my dating professor.

“Of course.”

“Are you, like, supposed to kiss on the first date?” I ask and I feel the heat creeping up my neck.

His finger comes out and presses my chin up until we’re gazing at each other.

“You can. If you’re comfortable with that. Not all first dates have to end with a kiss,” he explains as if he knows no one has ever told me this.

“Good to know,” I state as I search his eyes. “I just…”

“Don’t be embarrassed. Just ask me,” he encourages.

I lick my lips, and his eyes drop to watch my tongue darting out.

“I need to know if I suck at kissing,” I say quickly, the words running together.

“I highly doubt that. Did someone tell you that?” he asks with a frown.

I purse my lips and shake my head. “Not exactly, but it’s not like these guys called again, you know?”

“Do you want to practice that?” he inquires, his eyes searching mine.

Yes! I take a deep breath because I need to not appear excited about this.

“I think I should.”

“OK,” he replies slowly.

And without another word, he moves his hand along my jaw and cups it, angling my head a little as he leans down and presses his lips to mine.

My eyes are open in surprise, but as he starts to kiss me, my eyelids fall shut.

He doesn’t force the kiss any deeper, just gently moves his parted lips along mine until I want to crawl up his body.

My hands reach out to grip anything to keep me upright.

They find his biceps and I grip them firmly as I press myself against him.

His tongue gently moves along the seam of my lips.

My lips part in surprise and he slowly slides his tongue along mine.

He tastes of the wine and gelato we had.

It feels right. Like every kiss I had before this one was wrong.

His kiss opens a door inside me that I didn’t know existed.

As he pulls back and looks down at me with hooded eyes and enlarged black pupils, I wonder if he felt it too or if it’s just my inexperience speaking.

“Goodnight, Kasen,” I manage. “Thank you.”

His thumb strokes my cheek gently before dropping away. “You’re welcome. And by the way, you get an A-plus,” he says, his voice raspy.

“For the date or the kiss?” I ask.

“For both,” he answers.

I turn and unlock the door, slipping inside without turning back because I’m afraid I’d literally jump this man for another kiss like that. How am I going to stop myself from falling for my dating teacher?