Page 77 of A Better Place

“Good.”

“Thank you, Jack. I don’t know what I’d do without you,” I tell him while standing up.

“You don’t give yourself enough credit. I’m not the one who got us away from Vince and brought us to Liberty, built a new life, created a new home — a forever home. I’m not the one who found a new job and did all this.” He throws out an arm toward the house. “That wasn’t me, Mom. That was you. Don’t sell yourself short. You are stronger and more incredible than anyone I know.”

By the time he’s done talking, I have tears streaming down my face. He tilts his head back and looks at the ceiling, heaves a deep sigh, and pulls me in for a hug. “You’re such a softie,” he murmurs.

“Well, when you say a bunch of stuff like that, I am!”

“It needed to be said.” He shrugs one shoulder.

“I love you, kiddo.”

“Love you, too. Now, get ready for your date. James will be here in an hour.”

“Oh crap!” I say, pushing him out of the way while I run toward the bathroom to start getting ready.

I turn on the water and strip out of my pajamas. I step into the shower, the steam billowing out when I open the door, washing over me and warming my body before I move under the spray. After scrubbing myself clean, I get out and brush through my blond hair.

I decide to keep everything simple tonight, especially after Jack told me I was to dress casually. I dry and put a few loose curls in my hair then braid my bangs and pin them toward the crown of my head. After applying light makeup, I go back to my walk-in closet where I was recently having a nervous breakdown, and pick out a pair of dark skinny jeans, a white camisole, and a chunky tan sweater cardigan. I put on my camel-colored ankle boots, add gold jewelry, and commence freaking out.

I was fine. Five minutes ago. When I was busy. But I could have won the Olympics in speed getting ready, if that was a thing, because I still have twenty-five minutes left before James is set to be here. And I have no idea what we’re doing tonight.

Is he going to keep it simple and do dinner and a movie? Or will he try and surprise me? Are we horseback riding? Ziplining? I mean, it’s wintertime, so I assume not, but this is where my imagination is going. Do I need to take an anti-nausea pill because he’s about to take me on a boat ride, and I don’t want to risk getting seasick? Again, it’s winter, so I highly doubt it. But who knows! James is an adventurous guy. I wouldn’t put it past him to take me snow-tubing on our first date. I start pacing in the living room in front of the couch, not nervous for where he’s taking me, but because my mind… Will. Not. Stop.

He didn’t tell me to bring snow gear. But what if I need it? What if we’re sledding? Or snowmobiling?

Oh shit.

“I need snow gear,” I mumble out loud and begin walking over toward the front closet then stop myself. “No. That’s ridiculous.”

I start pacing again, wringing my hands together. I look over at the white lights twinkling on the Christmas tree that I still haven’t taken down. The Christmas tree that James helped me put up. And decorate. I glance over at the front window where I can see the lights wrapped around the porch. The lights that James spent an afternoon putting up for me. Without me having to ask.

“Wine.”

“No wine. No alcohol. You had enough alcohol last night, dumbass.”

“Great. Now I’m really losing it because I’m having an argument with myself. Out loud!”

Just as I’m about to start making a cup of tea to try to calm my nerves, the doorbell rings. It’s only 4:45, but I shouldn’t be surprised that he’s early.

“Oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap, oh crap,” I mutter.

“Got it!” Jack hollers as he breezes by me without giving me a second glance, or mentioning my mild panic attack.

“What? No. Jack, I can get the door,” I tell him.

“Nah. I got it. We have to do this the proper way,” he says, puffing out his chest.

“You’re so weird.”

He turns his head and grins at me as he opens the door to Captain James Cole. Because really, there’s no other way to describe him at this point. He’s gorgeous. Wait, can a man be gorgeous? Handsome just doesn’t really do him justice.

“What do you want?” Jack asks, voice strong and mature.

“Hello, sir. I’m here to take your mother out on a date tonight, with your permission, of course.”

“Well, I don’t know. Just what are your intentions with her?”

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