Page 8 of Sideline Sweetheart (Greenville Generals #4)
Chapter Eight
Mackenzie
Once we are seated, Theo, our server for the evening arrives, fills our water glasses and offers Bryce a wine list. When he makes his choice, Theo retreats to obtain the bottle Bryce ordered and gives us time to browse the menu.
Once Theo returns with the wine, he fills our glasses and takes our order leaving us alone to wait for our meal.
With his gaze fixed on me, Bryce picks up his wine glass and takes a sip.
The intensity in his eyes causes my mouth to go dry so I do the same, taking a moment to savor the robust flavors of the rich red wine.
As I set my glass back on the table, a slow grin appears on Bryce’s lips. “Favorite movie?”
He knows I was apprehensive about going out with him, I made it clear the day we met in my office. I can’t help but appreciate his willingness to put me at ease. “I have several, do you want the list?”
His smile widens. “Top three.”
“Okay. Jurassic World, Age of Adaline , and John Wick .” He laughs and I smile in return. “Not what you were expecting, was it?”
“I’m a bit surprised. I mean I get Age of Adaline , it’s hard not to love a movie where the plot shows how love transcends time. But I didn’t take you as a fan of assassin flicks.”
I give a light shrug. “Sometimes a girl wants a movie where the bad guys are defeated and the good guy wins.”
“Understandable. Why Jurassic World ?”
“It was the one movie I saw at the theater with my dad. We usually waited for the DVD and watched at home, but that one we saw on the big screen.”
Bryce quietly assesses me. “So Jurassic World is your sentimental favorite.”
I tilt my head considering his statement. “Yes, I suppose it is.” He smiles seemingly pleased with himself. “Your turn. What are your top three movies?”
“Well, my sentimental pick would be Fast and Furious . My dad has been a car guy his entire life, so it’s something we watched together. Wolverine and We Are Marshall .”
I smile at his choices. “I should have known there would be a football movie in there. We Are Marshall is a great choice.”
Surprise lights his eyes. “You’ve seen it?”
“What can I say, I’m a sucker for an underdog sports movie. I will admit I haven’t seen the others you mentioned.”
“What? I can, maybe, understand not seeing Wolverine , but you haven’t seen any of the Fast and Furious movies?”
I laugh at his reaction as I shake my head. “Nope, not a single one.”
“We are definitely going to have to rectify that.”
I can’t help but tease him a little. “Are you already planning a second date before the first one ends?”
Bryce grins, and I feel a flutter in my belly. “A guy can hope,” he replies tossing me an easy wink before taking another sip of his wine.
I feel the blush creep onto my cheeks and opt for a change of subject. “How long have you been playing football?”
Bryce smiles softly, “Since I was eight years old. Growing up in a small town, our school didn’t have funding for sports, but the community had football and baseball teams.” He chuckles while recalling the memory.
“I begged my parents to let me play and I was hooked after one season. When I started high school, I tried out and made the team, then moved on to college ball at the University of South Carolina until I was drafted by the Generals.”
“Wow, eight years old and you still love the game. That’s impressive.”
Bryce grins and tips his chin in my direction. “What about you? When did you decide you wanted to be a doctor?”
“Well, I wasn’t eight, I can tell you that,” I reply with a laugh.
“I was twelve when my little sister had chicken pox. She had a more severe case than either me or my brother. She developed sepsis, which in layman’s terms is an infection in the bloodstream.
She spent a few weeks in the hospital getting antibiotics.
That’s when I decided I wanted to be a doctor. ”
“Is she okay now, your sister, I mean?”
I smile as I think about Maddie, “Yes, she made a full recovery and is now pursuing a nursing degree.”
“And you chose sports medicine instead of pediatrics. Why?”
“I did a pediatric rotation which proved to be much more emotional than I expected. When it came time to apply for a residency, I matched with the sports medicine program at Clemson.”
“Well, if I have the chance to meet your sister, I’ll have to thank her for putting you on the path toward me.”
Before I can reply, Theo returns with our meals, and Bryce and I fall into an easy conversation.
I tell him about my family and growing up in North Carolina and he in turn tells me about his parents and growing up in Kentucky.
Once I learn what his dad did for a living, his love for the movie franchise featuring cars makes much more sense.
The love Bryce has for his parents is evident when he talks about them and rivales the way I feel about my family.
The biggest difference between us is I have siblings, and he doesn’t.
When we finish our meal, Theo returns and clears our plates while presenting us with the dessert menu.
While I am ready to decline, Bryce enthusiastically makes his selection, bread pudding with cranberries and pecans topped with a bourbon cream sauce, while I opt for the crème br?lée topped with fresh berries.
When the server retreats to the kitchen to place our order, , a fondness fills Bryce’s eyes.
“I blame my mom for my love of desserts. I grew up having a slice of cake or pie each day after school.”
I laugh. “Me too. Specifically, my love of ice cream. I keep ice cream in my freezer, no matter the time of the year.”
“Right?” Bryce says tossing his hands in front of him. “Who says ice cream is only for the summer? And for me, it’s a must for fruit pie but not for cake.”
My mouth falls open in disbelief. “What? Are you telling me you don’t eat ice cream with your birthday cake?”
He leans back in his chair, his amusement of this conversation causing him to fight a grin as he shakes his head. “Nope. Cake and ice cream are two separate desserts. Besides, the ice cream melts and gets the cake all gooey.”
I can’t help but stare and slow blink as I try to understand this anomaly. “I’m stunned. I don’t think I’ve met anyone who didn’t like ice cream with their cake.”
Bryce throws his head back in a laugh. “Well, I’m glad to see you can still be surprised.”
The server returns, placing our desserts in front of us.
I pick up my spoon and look up at Bryce from under my lashes.
“This is my favorite part. Listen closely.” He quirks a brow and watches as I crack the burnt sugar on top of my dessert.
“Hear it? The crunch is the most satisfying sound.” I load my spoon and take the first bite of the creamy, decadent dessert; a moan escapes me as the sweet vanilla hits my tongue.
Bryce shifts in his seat and clears his throat as he pours the warm bourbon cream sauce over his bread pudding. “I think we have differing opinions on what’s a satisfying sound.”
I glance up at him, the heat in his eyes evident and causing me to clench my thighs together in an effort to relieve the ache building in my core.
What is it with this guy? I can’t remember ever being this affected by a man before.
I don’t bother to hide my grin hearing him admit he was as affected as I was.
“How’s your bread pudding?”
“Not quite as good as my mom’s, but it’s good. Want a bite?”
“Sure,” I say as I load my spoon with crème br?lée. “I’ll even share a bite of mine with you.”
We trade spoons, his gaze not wavering from mine as we simultaneously slide the spoons into our mouths. I fight the urge to close my eyes and savor the cacophony of flavors his dessert provides not willing to break the connection. “Well?”
“Delicious,” I say, my voice far breathier than I expected it to be.
Bryce’s tongue sweeps out across his lip, and I press my thighs together to contain the ache flaring unexpectedly as I track the movement.
“So creamy,” he says. His voice is low and rough, and I want to hear it whispered in my ear along with all the naughty things he wants to do to me.
I shift in my chair and a ghost of a smile tips his lips.
He knows exactly what effect he’s having on me.
I reach for my water and take a sip before returning to my dessert.
Our server arrives and places a folder on the corner of the table. “Can I get you anything else?”
“No, thank you,” Bryce says as he slips a credit card into the folder and hands it back to him.
“Thank you for choosing The Lake House. We hope you enjoyed your dining experience and hope to see you again.”
He scurries off and returns as promised, leaving the folder once again without a word.
Bryce signs the receipt, tucks his credit card back in his jacket and stands, offering me his hand.
Placing my hand in the warmth of his palm, I stand, eliminating some of the distance between us.
His thumb caresses my fingers, and his eyes flutter closed as he kisses the back of my hand before tucking it into the crook of his elbow and escorting me to his car.