Page 61 of 28 Dates

I squeeze her hand. “It doesn’t matter. We’re here.”

She nods and I let her go, pressing my hand to her back to get her moving toward the table with the high-back couches that will further cocoon us in our own private oasis.

She heads that direction, and I move to the kitchen, thankful as hell for Tucker and Paul. They worked their asses off today once I told them I was closing. They still clocked out at their normal hours and kept helping with the damn lights and flowers. At some point, Tucker messaged Sara to let her know what was going on, and she showed up and took over with the flowers and finishing touches. Thank goodness. I shudder to think what the restaurant would look like without a woman’s touch to make sure the details were perfect.

And yet, as thrilled as Caitlin is about all of it, I’m not sure she cares too much. Had I shown up in jeans and my regular polo shirt, I still think her response would have been the same, because while Caitlin might have come from money, she’s never let it define her.

I grab the platters Paul had completed and left under the warmers a few minutes before Caitlin arrived, and set them on a tray. I take it to the bar, grab a beer for me, and mix up an extra-dry martini for Caitlin.

Her eyes are on me the entire time, and mine are barely able to drag away from her.

She’s here. And not only is she not pissed. She loves me, too. All of this, even the pain of losing her the first time, has been totally worth it to hear those words fall from her lips. I’d go through it all over again, knowing how much it would hurt, to have her back in my life, exactly how I’ve wanted her for years.

—

I’m sitting next to her in the curved booth. The table is too much space between us. In between bites of our food, my hand falls to her knee. Our conversation has been stilted, with so many things to say, and I can’t figure out how to move us past this awkward beginning I wasn’t expecting.

But what was I thinking? That we’d profess our love and everything would be smooth sailing?

Hardly.

Caitlin is playing with her food more than she’s eating it, and as she chews, she glances at me nervously.

I can’t bear this anymore. We’ve always been able to talk. “Talk to me. What are you thinking?”

She laughs, that soft, lyrical laugh I’ve been missing. She twirls her fork in her noodles and then drops it. “I was thinking about last week when you walked me home.”

She pauses, and her gaze doesn’t meet mine. My hand on her thigh tenses. “What about it? Are you bothered I didn’t stay? You know why I couldn’t.”

“No, it’s that the next morning when Trey was there instead of you, I cried after he left. I wanted it so badly to beyouthat stayed.” She turns to me, and there’s pain in her eyes, a vulnerability that makes my heart ache for her. “I’m so sorry it took me so long to realize how much I care about you.” Tears fall from her eyes, and I wipe them away before she can reach them. “I keep thinking about how much we’ve missed. What we could have been or done.”

“Hey…hey.” I cup her cheeks with my palm and lean in, brushing my lips over hers. “I think it’s worked out the way it was always supposed to.”

“I have regrets, that it took me so long to realize you’ve always been it for me.”

“Caitlin—”

“Also,” she says, cutting me off. Her sadness disappears, and a glimmer of mischief lights her eyes. “I do have another question for you. Something I’ve been wondering about since you messaged me and now I can finally ask you.”

“What’s that?” This could be anything, and my interest is definitely piqued.

She turns her face and kisses my palm on her cheek. Her hand comes up and wraps around my hand on hers and she squeezes. With a wink, she asks, “So you really watchedThe Vampire Diaries? I thought you didn’t like it?”

She’s a nut. This is what we need, and I laugh, shaking my head at her silliness. Leaning back, I take a drink from my beer and grin. “I’m still on season four. But I so really wish Damon would turn back into a crow.”

She chews on a bite of food and swallows. “And fly away because he’s horrible for Elena?”

“No, because it was fucking cool.”

Twirling her fork in the air, pointed at me, she says, “You’re such a guy.”

“Thank God.”

—

We’ve finished dinner, and I made us another round of drinks. Caitlin insisted on helping clean up the table when we were done, and we’re now at the bar, having our drink. We’re sitting on barstools, having spent the last hour talking about everything and nothing. And it occurs to me how much distance she really did put between us before, because when we were just screwing around, families were never brought up. She’s asked about mine, for the first time ever, and I’ve gotten to tell her about Alexandra, my younger sister who still lives in Connecticut. Now that the veil has been dropped, it’s like she can finally ask me all the questions she might have been curious about before, but never asked.

What we haven’t done is spend much time talking about her family, but since I already know I hate them, I haven’t brought it up yet, but with her so relaxed, now’s the perfect time.

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