Page 24 of Reece & Holden (Gomillion High Reunion #6)

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

Reece

I knock on Holden’s door a little after seven on Friday. His house is in a neat row of small town houses that look newly built. He opens the door and I catch my breath.

“Hi, handsome,” I say, watching his eyes light up making the urge to kiss him almost impossible to resist. But I do, as we’re standing on his doorstep and I’m not sure he’d welcome a display like that in front of his neighbors.

He’s wearing jeans and a soft button-down along with his customary sweater vest. I’m not sure it has a pattern or a picture, it’s more of a vibe. One that’s totally Holden. It starts out blue-gray, morphing into dark green, and finally into brown at the waist.

“Did you make this?” I point to his chest, only a hair’s width from touching him.

“Yes,” he says quietly as if suddenly shy.

As far as I know he’s always worn his knitwear creations proudly.

It’s one of the things I admire most about him.

So his uncertainty is puzzling. “Do you like it?” he continues.

He doesn’t need my opinion to wear what he likes, and that he’s asked confuses me even more.

“I do, very much so. It suits you.”

“Well, you mentioned a forest after it had rained.” I did, and the need to step in close and catch his scent again nearly overwhelms me.

“This—” I do touch his chest this time. “Captures it perfectly.” A thought occurs to me. “Did you make this since I last saw you?”

“Yes.” If he says anything else it’s lost as I move forward into his space, making him take a step backward into his house. I follow and nudge the door shut behind me; I don’t want his neighbors to see what I’m going to do. I push him against the wall of his hallway, bracketing him with my arms.

“You created this just from a comment I made?”

“Yes.”

I kiss him softly, tasting his lips and his tongue.

“And you made it in just two days?”

“Yes.”

“You’re fucking amazing.” This time I kiss him harder and deeper.

That he would take my words and turn them into something beautiful is so incredibly sexy.

I almost forget my rule to take things slowly, especially when he grabs my hips and grinds into me.

I feel his dick hard against mine and my memory flits back to the motel room.

Has it only been a few days? It feels like forever.

I know he didn’t make it for me, but he made it because of me, and no one has done anything like that before.

Something shifts in my core, like a puzzle piece of my soul clicking into place.

I want to hold on to him and never let him go.

I only stop kissing him because I need to breathe, and he tips his head back against the wall panting slightly.

It’s a beautiful sight, and I start to kiss his jaw when I hear a low rumbling sound.

“Did you spend so much time knitting it that you didn’t eat?”

“Maybe.” He says it like he doesn’t remember whether he did or not, and a growl escapes me along with a need to see that he looks after himself—or maybe I can. Yes, I can definitely do that. I usher him out to the car. Feeding him is first on the list.

“Where are we going?” he asks as we head out of town.

“It’s a surprise,” I say, but he guesses as soon as we turn off the highway.

“Oh, are we going to that seafood place on the edge of Lake Keowee?”

“Yes. Have you been before?”

“No, but I’ve heard great things about it, and I’ve wanted to visit since it opened a few years ago.”

I pull up in the lot of Sammi’s Shrimp Shack, a low wooden building that squats on the side of the lake. There are a few cars already parked but it doesn’t look too busy.

“It was my mom who told me about it,” I say.

“Y-you told your mom about us?”

“Sure. I hope that was alright.”

“Yes. I-I guess so. I just don’t know what I’ll say to her the next time she comes into the store.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry about that. She thinks very highly of you. I’m pretty sure she thinks I’m not good enough for you.” I laugh but I’m only half joking.

The restaurant’s more cosy than I would’ve imagined from the name.

There are at least a dozen tables, maybe even more, of which less than half are occupied.

The furniture is dark and the soft furnishings a dark red, and the lighting is low, giving it the ambience of a hunting cabin in the woods.

Minus the heads of deer on the walls, though they wouldn’t look out of place.

I give my name to the server who approaches us, and he wends his way through the tables to a door at the other side.

He leads us onto a covered deck right over the water.

On each side of the door are two sets of tables, and he shows us to one at the end of the deck. All the other tables are empty.

“I’ll be right back,” he says and leaves us alone.

There are lanterns strung along under the deck’s roof and a small sheltered candle on the table.

Dusk is falling, making the sky indigo over the dark water of the lake.

It’s very romantic, and I see the light of the flame reflecting the delight in Holden’s eyes, but the server returns before I have a chance to say anything.

He places a basket of bread on the table and then balances a tray with a bottle and two glasses.

When he pops the cork on the bottle, I realize it’s champagne.

“I didn’t order this,” I say, looking at him.

“Compliments of Mrs. Fisher.” Mom.

“Oh.” Holden pales considerably. “I don’t drink.”

“And I’m driving,” I explain. I might have a glass but there’s no way I’d drink a whole bottle.

The server smiles. “It’s alcohol free.”

We both look on, stunned, as he finishes filling the glasses.

“Did Mrs. Fisher do anything else?” I ask, and the server shakes his head.

“Not even suggest the table?”

“Mrs. Fisher is one of our best patrons.” His smile tells me everything I need to know.

“Here are your menus. I’ll be back in a few minutes for your order.” He hands us the menus and disappears back inside, leaving us alone with the cicadas, frogs chirruping from the lake, and a low hum from inside.

“I’m sorry, Holden, my mom—”

“Is a very thoughtful lady.”

“She’s meddling, she shouldn’t do that. I’m sorry.”

“I think she’s showing that she cares.” He takes a sip of his drink. “And this is really good. Most alcohol-free drinks aren’t great, but this is really nice.”

I try it and can’t help agreeing. It is really good.

“Though how she knew I don’t drink, I have no idea.”

“She has her ways,” I say, thinking back to some of the seemingly innocuous questions she’s asked me in the last few days. I’ve been played, and there will be words, even if I’ll also be thanking her. I wished I’d thought of champagne myself.

We order and talk easily until our food arrives—blackened catfish for myself and crab cakes for Holden.

“To us and our first date,” Holden says, raising his glass, and I join him.

“You think there’ll be others?” I tease.

“Well, I’m asking next, are you going to refuse?” He raises his chin in challenge.

“I couldn’t refuse anything you ask of me,” I reply, meaning every word.

He smiles and drops his eyes to his food. I watch him for a second and decide to tell him my news.

“I was due to return home next Friday, but I’ve cancelled my flight and I’m going to stay longer.”

“H-how much longer?” His tone is wary and I reach across the table for his hand.

“I don’t know yet. But let’s enjoy what time we have and see what happens?” I squeeze his hand.

“Yes, alright then.” He nods but still looks downcast. I guess he didn’t like the reminder that I don’t live here, but it’s far too early to talk about the future.

“I promise you we’ll have as much time as we need.” It’s vague but it brings his smile back. “So, this next date? When are you going to ask me?”

“How about now? W-will you go on a date with me?”

I pretend to think about it until he nudges me with his foot under the table.

“I’d love to go on a date with you. When and where?”

“Tuesday and my house. I want to cook for you.”

“I like the sound of that, apart from the waiting until Tuesday. That seems like a long time to me.”

“You’ll just have to exercise some patience.” He gives me a grin, as if he’s taking delight in making me wait, and I mock groan. The giggle he gives sounds like a freshwater stream and clears the air between us. We finish up our meal and I drive us back to his house.

“Would your neighbors mind if I kissed you here?”

“They wouldn’t care, and neither do I,” he replies and I lean over.

“Good,” I murmur against his lips. It’s a chaste kiss by our standards, but it’s not comfortable in the car.

“Is that it?” he says with a grin.

“Oh, there’ll be a lot more on Tuesday, you’ll just have to be patient until then,” I quip, though the real reason is that if I don’t stop now, then I won’t be able to.

“Okay, goodnight.” He gives me a lingering kiss as if he knows what effect it will have, and I almost cave in. Damn, I can’t not see him until Tuesday.

“I’ll bring you breakfast at work tomorrow,” I call as he climbs out of the car.

“I’d like that,” he says before turning toward his house. I watch until he’s gone inside, hovering in indecision. I told him I want us to get to know each other properly before being physical, and I mean it. Even so, it’s still several minutes before I manage to drive away.