Page 21 of Finding the One (River Rain #7)

The server came to set our mains in front of us and Dair—being honest, let-it-all hang-out Dair—expelled a frustrated breath when she did.

She glanced at him and her cheeks went pink, because he was glorious, and he’d just shared he was annoyed she interrupted us.

“We’re having a difficult conversation,” I explained to her.

“I’m sorry to intrude,” she mumbled.

“No intrusion. Maybe feeding the beast will make him more patient,” I joked.

The woman smiled at me and ducked away.

“Now that you’ve made our waitress feel better,” Dair said. “How about ye do a wee bit of that for me?”

“Can we just have normal date?” I requested.

“How are we to accomplish that if you’re sitting across from me making up shite to keep distant from me?”

I skewered him with another look, because his continued logic in the face of my determined illogic was highly vexing.

“Blake, I think you can see why this is important,” he pointed out.

“I like you,” I stated sourly.

“And?” he pushed.

“That’s it,” I said, cutting into my tenderloin and scooping polenta onto the bite before eating it.

So good.

When I refocused on Dair, he was staring at me like I was crazy.

“What?” I asked.

“You don’t want us to give this a go because you like me?” he asked like I was what he was looking at me like I was.

Crazy.

I put my cutlery down on my plate and leaned toward him.

“You want honesty, bucko?”

His eyebrows shot up at “bucko,” and under them, his eyes lit with mirth, but I ignored both.

“Here it is. I’ve had two dates in four years since Chad, mostly because everyone in the world knows what I did and the heterosexual male component of that wants nothing to do with it.”

“Except the one sitting across from ye,” he corrected.

“Yes. And you’re handsome. And you’re tall.

And fit. And you like my cooking, you don’t put up with my shit, you think I’m worthy, and I know you threw that second game so Dad could retain his winning streak.

I saw your cards. You could have made several much better plays, and you didn’t. For my dad.”

“Blake—”

But I’d picked up cutlery and was angrily sawing at the tender piece of meat that fell apart at the mildest pressure.

And I kept blabbing.

“So…what? You realize I’m a waste of space and you dump me?” I shoved the bite I prepared in my mouth and aimed my eyes at him, chewing irately and swallowing. “Or, for whatever reason, this doesn’t work out, but still, you dump me? Where does that put me?”

“What I want to know, love,” he said carefully, “is why you’re in that place when that place is not this place. That place might not even happen.”

I rested my hands on the table beside my plate.

“Dair, listen to me. I like you .”

“I like you too, hen,” he whispered, watching me closely.

“Clue in.”

“To what?”

“You know what.”

“Enlighten me.”

“When I lost Chad, I didn’t pine, and I liked him too. I thought I loved him. It came to me quickly, however, that he was more Mum’s choice than mine. I thought he was the key to me finally winning her approval. And maybe he was, and I blew that?—”

“Ye didnae blow fuck all,” he stated angrily.

“I get that, but?—”

“You remember Signe?”

“Of course.”

“She was a mess.”

I thought it prudent to say nothing.

“Once she had my ring on her finger, she drove me fucking mental. She was a disaster. She married me because I played rugby, made good money and came from even more. She didn’t even try to hide it.”

Oh God.

That had to feel terrible.

“I’m so sorry, Dair,” I said quietly.

“I am too,” he replied. “The thing I’m most sorry about is that I didn’t see that in her. Everyone around me did. Mum. Davi. My mates. Even Dad wasn’t fond of her, and we both know he likes a good-looking woman.”

We knew that for certain.

“I felt like a bloody fucking fool,” he continued, and now my heart was lurching, because I hated that he felt that.

“It didn’t occur to me until a lot later that she played me.

I saw none of that before the wedding. I thought I was the love of her life.

I thought she was mine. I was twenty-five and got my hands on a pretty woman who was great in bed, and full truth, my dick was more interested in marrying her than I was.

We were all over everything when we were together.

Gossip rags. Social media. We were all over everything again when we split. I felt like a fucking moron.”

“Well, I think I know a little bit about being played and that happening publicly.”

“That’s my point,” he returned. “That guy played ye, and he had game, but ye won the match. Ye don’t take yourself out of play, especially when you’re winning.”

“It didn’t feel like I won.”

“Well, you did, baby.”

“You haven’t been serious with anyone since Signe either,” I pointed out.

“Reckon the fates were telling me to hold until I could get back to you.”

Whoosh .

All my breath left me.

Because…

Did he just say that to me?

It was like he didn’t realize he just rocked my world.

He kept talking.

“My mother and your father like and respect each other, but they’re not mates, though I think they could be. My sister is growing more and more fond of ye the more you feed her.”

That made me crack a smile.

He continued, “In other words, I know there are things to lose, Blake, especially between you and me. I understand what you’re saying.

Ye thought ye lost something when ye scraped him off, but ye figured out ye didnae.

But you like me, and ye ken already it’ll be worse if it dinnae work out.

Hen, understand this. I’m feeling the same. ”

Oh God.

He was feeling the same.

Did that make me feel better, or more scared?

Definitely more scared.

Dair went on, “But I’ve got the balls to give it a go because it feels damn good and might get better.”

“I don’t have balls, Dair.”

“Thank Christ, but you get me. Are ye going to wimp out on me?”

Oh no he didn’t.

“I’m not being a wimp,” I snapped. “I’m trying to protect you and me.”

“From what?”

“Heartbreak?” I asked sarcastically. “Emotional trauma? Another social media onslaught. Have you thought of that? Everything my crew does is plastered all over the place and you’ll be along for that ride if you’re with me. Trust me, it’ll be way worse than what happened with Signe.”

“Now you’re making shite up,” he muttered while spooning up chicken pot pie.

“I am not,” I stated heatedly. “As I’m sure you know with what you just mentioned about Signe, it’s not fun.”

“Ye dinnae have any records to sell or movie tickets ye want people to buy. Why do ye give that first shite about what people say about you on social media?”

“Well, you have a job in the public eye.”

“Baby, I got my trust fund when I was twenty-three and I haven’t touched it. I could lose my job and get a job coaching somewhere and be more than comfortable. I was young back then and felt like an eejit. Now, I dinnae give a fuck what millions of people addicted to their screens say about me.”

“You have an answer for everything,” I sniped, swiping more polenta on pork.

“Because there are answers.”

I shoved the food in my mouth and chewed angrily.

“Does it occur to ye, you’re being entirely irrational, and I haven’t bolted to the door?” he asked before shoving pie in his mouth.

Oh no he didn’t.

“I’m not being irrational, Dair,” I said low.

He leaned over his pie to me. “This is how I see it. If that kiss is any indication, you’re going to be fucking amazing in bed.

You’re funny. You’re full of cheek, and I like it.

Ye cook great. You’re kind to my mum. My sister thinks the world of ye.

You’re not boring in the slightest. Ye love hard and show it effortlessly.

And you like me. So much, you’re terrified of losing me before we’ve even tried.

With all of that, what I know is, this could be everything.

It could be wedding, children, our whole futures.

And I’m determined to explore that. So worry all ye want, baby.

Your arse is still going to be on a plane in a week and a half.

And dinnae book a hotel. You’re staying with me. ”

What did you say to that?

I said nothing, just angrily kept eating.

“It’s dead already, ye ken,” Dair quipped while watching me.

I shoved more pork in my mouth and chewed ferociously.

He busted out laughing.

Was there no distancing this guy?

Bah!

“I’m not terrified of losing you,” I groused as I speared a baby carrot.

“Sick with it, love,” he said jovially over his pot pie. “Not to worry. I’ve got the cure.”

Oh my God!

He was unspeakable .

“Dessert here or go to that ice cream place Mum and Davi were raving about?” he asked.

I was intent to give him the silent treatment for the rest of the date.

But we were talking about ice cream.

“Ice cream,” I grumbled.

His tone was vibrating with humor when he said, “Whatever you want, lassie.”

I wanted him.

And that was the problem.

Because it scared the shit out of me.

But, what could I do?

I was no wimp.

I was a Sharp. A Bernhard. Even a Coddington (from what I could tell, they were all assholes, but they didn’t back down or roll over for anybody).

So we’d give this a go.

He’d see.

I ate more pork and polenta.

Delicious.