Page 11

Chapter ten

Chris

I spot Anna the second I open the heavy door to The Roastery. How could I not notice that bouncy dark ponytail right away? I’d already checked in at her work and buzzed her apartment. This was the last place to look before I had to head to family dinner. Mom laid her expectations for my attendance on real thick.

“If only one of my children is going to live on the same side of the hemisphere as me, the least they can do is come for family dinner.” As if I wasn’t there visiting at least once a week anyway.

Isaac’s admonishment weighed heavy on me all week and if I was a better man, I’d have found her that same day to apologise. No, I wouldn’t have walked away from her in the first place. I 'pardon me' myself through the line, my smile erasing the scowls off most of the patrons' faces as I pass. It's not until I'm a couple people back that I notice she's talking to the man behind her. Are they together? My stomach is tense and hot at the idea of someone taking Anna out for a coffee. Is it that guy from her building? My next thought is that it's my own damn fault. I left her in a hallway after kissing her senseless and flirting my way through a haircut. I waited too many days to smooth things over. The thread of her voice is barely audible over the din of conversation around us.

She holds her thumb and finger up in front of her face and catch the words “loosen me up” and then the espresso machine hisses, and I lose the rest of the sentence. Other people within earshot are pretending not to hear, but I see them press their lips together and widen their eyes at their friends. I creep closer and see the narrowed eyes and splotches on the man’s red cheeks and Anna’s spitting mad maneater expression. My bet is that she just insulted this guy’s size in a room full of people. The way his fists are tight at his side has me striding over at my full height and slipping my arm around Anna in a second. Beneath her sweater, her torso trembles, so I squeeze her to me in what I hope is a grounding gesture. Heat radiates off her, my skin still cool from crossing the street in only my henley.

“Hey, baby.” I bend to kiss her cheek and watch her colour change from an angry red to a blushing pink as she glances up at me in surprise.

Good. I’d rather have her slightly embarrassed than mad.

“Um, hi.” She makes no effort to wiggle away, in fact, she leans heavily against me, and I happily shore her up. Her makeup around her eyes is sort of smudgy, bringing out the darker flecks of colour amongst the hazel.

“Chris.” I stick my free hand out in greeting.

What the hell did you do to make my girl so mad?

“Darren,” he says, making a weak as fuck attempt to squeeze my hand like a tough guy.

I sigh and clench my fingers around his until he breaks eye contact.

“What are you doing here?” Anna asks.

“We have family dinner tonight, remember?” The question comes out before I think it through.

She arches her brows. “Right. Of course. I wanted to get a coffee beforehand.”

Her hair smells like the products she used in mine, so I take a slow breath through my nose. If she slept in my bed, would my sheets smell like that ?

“Perfect. We’ve got lots of time,” I tell her, kissing her hair to smell her again.

“Hey, Anna. The regular?” asks the employee behind the till.

“Oh, my turn.” She slips out from under my arm and leaves me with this dumbass.

His eyes flit to Anna so I take a side-step to block his view.

“You’re her boyfriend?” he asks, only able to make eye contact with me for a couple seconds at a time.

Not yet.

“Something like that.”

He nods stiffly. “We used to hook up.”

Something about the way he says it has me calling bullshit. I mean, she obviously has some knowledge of the guy’s dick. Half the people in the coffee shop now have that knowledge second-hand. Anna was mad when I walked in, but she also looked small with her arms wrapped around her centre. That was evidence enough that even if they had hooked up in some capacity, it was not good for her.

“I think they just ran out of coffee, champ. Why don’t you head out?”

His mouth falls open like a fish. “They are not—”

“Wasn’t a suggestion. ”

My stare is cold and expectant when he makes the right choice and storms out. Anna's holding two to-go cups when she returns, passing me one, and scanning the crowd.

“He’s gone,” I say. “Are you okay?” I blow the steam off my drink.

She gives a frustrated scoff from the back of her throat. “Yes. Fine. No ."

Oh, so all of the above. Got it.

I look around for a table. “Let’s sit.”

“Oh, we don’t have to…”

“Yes, we do.” I steer her to some empty lounge chairs with my hand on her lower back. It’s slightly quieter away from the coffee bar, the ceilings are an exposed, industrial style painted black so the ducts blend in.

She takes a small sip of her drink and lets out a huge sigh.

“Better?” I ask as she settles into the amber coloured leather.

“I didn't have sex with him,” she blurts at the exact same time I take a sip of my still-too-hot drink.

I’m about to tell her that I don’t care who she’s been with but then she continues.

“Or anyone for that matter. I’m a virgin.” She presses her lips tight together like she’s already said too much.

My mouth is full of hot coffee and I'm going to spit it all over Anna. Grimacing, I swallow it down and gasp for air despite the burn. “I'm sorry, what?”

She crosses her arms over her chest in the same way she did in front of Darren and I absolutely, positively will not stand for her feeling small in my presence. I grasp the leg of her chair and yank it toward me. We're knee to knee now, and I spread my legs so I can scoot her even closer. If we weren't in a crowded coffee shop, I'd drop her right into my lap so she could hear me real good.

“I don’t know what that guy did to you, and you don’t have to tell me, but you should never sleep with someone who won’t do it exactly how you want.”

Anna’s eyes are watery, but they have some fire in them again and that’s good enough for me. I try to ignore the way my jeans are getting tighter at the idea of Anna telling me what she wants in bed.

Should have squeezed his hand harder.

“How did you know that he wasn’t…that things didn’t end well between us?”

“It was written all over your face.”

I wonder what she can tell by looking at my face right now. How obvious is it that I’m crazy about her?

Clearing my throat, I try to get us back on track. “So, you’re a…” Damn, I can barely say it without picturing her laying beneath me. “You’re a virgin?”

She examines a pale pink fingernail.

“Yes.” She rolls her eyes. “Hence my shitty kissing outside my apartment. If you changed your mind about us, about me,” she corrects. “It’s fine.”

“Changed my mind?” I say slowly, trying to figure out what she’s on about.

My mind has been so far from unchangeable it’s not funny.

“Anna, since that kiss, you’re all I can think about. Before I found you here today, I went to your work and tried your house. I came here to apologise for walking away from you like that.” I squeeze her hands, encouraged when she returns the pressure. “I still want your number. If you’ll give it to me.”

She blinks down at our joined hands.

Her lower lips trembles, her chin dimpling like she could cry at any moment. “You do?”

It’s killing me to see the insecurity on her face, to know that asshat who I sent out of here played a part in putting it there. I reach up, dragging my thumb across her lip. She’s so damn soft. Her jaw relaxes, eyes beginning to take on some of that heat again.

“That kiss…” I move my thumb to the side so I can feel that softness with my lips.

I should probably care that we’re in a busy coffee shop, but I don’t, the noise fading as all my senses work to catalogue her warm mouth and the surprised moan she makes. She pulls back.

“Do you think we could, maybe, if it’s okay with you…take it slow?”

An orb of excitement glows in my chest. Slow? I’m currently the king of slow. I’ve been at a dead stop for five months. This is the loophole I need to get to know Anna better without ruining my promise to myself. This potential relationship has a chance to be different.

I release her hands and run my thumb over her bottom lip, noticing in the late afternoon light that there’s a freckle in the centre.

“Anna,” I breathe, leaning back in. “We can go as slow as you want.”

A tiny whimper escapes her and my cock twitches in my jeans. We are going to have to keep busy, and not in the fun sense of the word if we’re going to stay out of each other’s pants. I stand, somewhat abruptly, and she does the same. We walk out onto Main Street with our barely touched coffees in hand. Anna scans the street and makes for my Jeep .

“Where are you going?”

“It’s where are we going, Chris. Family dinner, remember?”

I have a vision of my dad giving her a detailed tour of his garage before asking her if she knows how to change her own oil.

I hesitate in the middle of the sidewalk, apologizing to someone I block before catching up to her.

“What? You don’t have to come to that.”

Anna leans against the passenger door, wrapping her coffee-coloured cardigan so tight around herself that it stretches across her chest.

“Why not?” Her gaze drops to my lips for moment. “I’m hungry.”

Fuck . I’m hungry too, but not for family dinner.

“Let’s go.”

I unlock the door, smiling when she takes my hand to help her up.

Shit. Okay. We are really doing this.

I blow out a breath as I walk around to the driver’s side. I’ve never brought a girl home to meet my parents.

I wanted something different. I got it.

** *

“You know, I was really confident about this fifteen minutes ago. But I think I changed my mind.”

Anna’s nails tap out at a quick rhythm on her thigh as she stares out the window at my childhood home.

“It’s a simple meal,” I remind her. “My dad is probably going to get distracted talking to you, and he’ll burn something on the grill. My mom will gauge your interest level in invasive species–”

“My what?” Her head whips toward me.

“Plants that shouldn’t be here. Ivy bad. Salal good.”

“Ivy bad, salal good, ivy bad, salal good,” she mutters under her breath.

“You’ve got it.”

“Chris. We’re barely friends. No offence,” she adds, “but meeting your parents?”

“First off, ouch. We are friends. I like you.”

I unclick her seatbelt and turn so we’re facing each other. The sun is setting, the deep orange hues highlighting the clouds rolling in. Wind forces its way through the almost bare branches of chestnut trees that line either side of the quiet street.

“It doesn’t really matter to me if we are friends or not, though, because I’m interested in more than that.”

Her eyes are round as she lets me say a bunch of words that, in all honesty, are surprising to me .

“God, this day has been weird.” She makes a sound between a laugh and a groan.

“This morning, all week , I thought you didn’t like me at all and now we’re going to family dinner.”

“Yep. We are.”

Before I can get my key in the brass lock, the weathered oak door swings inwards.

“C’mon,” I lean into her ear, “pretend they’re hairdressing clients.”

***

“Well, I know West Isle is small, but this is too funny!”

Seeing Anna in my childhood home is weird enough. Knowing she’s been cutting my mom’s hair for who knows how long is mildly unsettling. It’s like two very different parts of my world are converging.

Anna slices a tomato while wearing an apron I’m fairly sure belonged to my great grandma.

“I can’t believe I never put two and two together, Sam.”

“Guess I should have shown you his picture sooner, hmm?”

My mom turns around and gives me a cheesy wink while I sit at a barstool next to my dad and drink a spiced rum and coke .

Fifteen minutes ago, I was soothing her nerves in my car and now she’s assembling a salad with ease.

Dad looks up from his new issue of Classic Cars magazine, “How long have you worked at that salon, Anna?”

I can’t help but interject. “She’s actually the owner of the salon, Dad.”

“A business owner! And where is it located?”

Mom rolls her eyes.

Anna wipes her hands on a cloth and has a sip of her wine. “On Main Street. The storefront of those studio condos they built. I own one of the condos above.”

Dad’s eyebrows are in his hairline, clearly impressed by the fact that she’s both a business and property owner. I realize I’ve got a dumb smile on my face too. I’m proud of her.

“Do you like to hike?” Mom asks her next, carrying the finished salad toward the dining room where I already added another place setting for Anna.

Everyone grabs their drinks and the rest of the dishes and follows.

“Oh, um, I’ve never really done it. Not properly anyway.”

I pull out Anna’s chair and my mom puts her hand over her heart like some sort of swooning southern lady .

Dad waves his hand, taking his normal spot at one end of the table. “No such thing as improper hiking. Just feels nice to get out in nature. Are you going to take her out soon?” He looks at me, nodding expectantly.

“We haven’t talked about it. Maybe.”

Beneath the red and orange plaid tablecloth, I squeeze her thigh.

“Mmm!” Mom’s eyes sparkle as she chews her bite of food before finishing her thought, “Maybe you could find some good rocks on a hike.”

“Mom…why would Anna want to find rocks?” I shake my head at her.

“Yeah, rocks are heavy,” Dad pipes in.

I drop my fork on my plate.

“Thanks for that, Dad.”

I look over to Anna and, honestly, I’m surprised she’s still here with my parents suddenly acting like total weirdos.

“For her painting, of course.”

My brow is furrowed. “Her painting?”

I feel dumb. My mom knows more about my…about Anna than I do.

Anna takes a sip of her wine and places her hand on my arm. I involuntarily flex my bicep.

“I’ll show you them later. Just a hobby. ”

“I have some of them in the garden, Chris.”

I truly have no idea what she’s talking about.

“Right, right.”

I don’t want to admit that I don’t already know about her, um, rocks. After this, I want to know everything.

My parents start a side conversation about a car show and I’m about to open my mouth to tell Anna how much I like having her here when the front door slams open. Dad and I stand so fast our chairs wobble. Anna’s eyes are as big as her supper plate as she twists in her seat. Mom drops her butter knife and says a word I’d rather not have heard from her mouth.

“Isn’t anybody going to help me with this pack?”

There’s a thud on the hardwood of something heavy falling and then a curly blonde head ascends the steps.

Mom squeaks, hands covering her mouth.

“Carolina?” I ask.

She beams at us, glancing at each stunned person around the table.

“Well, look who it is!” Dad says, like it’s not weird at all that his daughter just showed up for the first time in three years.

This is, without a doubt, the weirdest family dinner ever.