Page 197 of Small Town Firsts

ALDEN

It’sfunny how the human mind works. I’ve known Natalie most of my life. I’ve shared countless meals with her. I’ve seen her bare-ass naked. Hell, I’ve been inside her…created life with her. Yet here I am, nervous as fuck over this date.

I made it to Cobalt about fifteen minutes before our reservation time. Talk about being eager. But, better early than late, I guess. Especially when I’m trying to make an impression. Which honestly seems a bit strange—because once again, I’ve known the girl since she was knee-high to a grasshopper, whatever the fuck that means. My grandpa used to say it, and it seems right.

As I wait in my car, my mind drifts. Unwelcome thoughts of Mia invade my brain and I shudder.Nope. No way. Not letting that bitch ruin my night.I bolt out of my vehicle and head for the entrance. Maybe they’ll have our table ready. Because if I let my thoughts stay on the path they were on, tonight’s going to be a total shitshow. Nothing—and I mean nothing—brings out the worst in me quite like my ex.

I manage to regain my composure on the walk over, but seeing Natalie standing near the entrance dressed to kill—yeah, I promptly lose what little chill I had.

My feet carry me directly to her, and I don’t stop until we’re toe-to-toe. She looks absolutely radiant, and I can’t help but lean down and kiss her. When our lips meet, it’s deep and slow and delicious. She tastes like melon-flavored lip gloss and something inherently Natalie.

I groan and pull away. “C’mon, beautiful, we don’t want them to give our table away.”

Seated, with menus in hand, we peruse them together, commenting on the various dishes. It’s so refreshing to be able to talk about food with someone who’s just as passionate about it as I am. Unlike Mia. She rolled her eyes and checked out every time I mentioned a new technique or flavor profile.No. Bad, Alden. Cut that shit out. You know good and well Natalie is nothing like Mia.

But it seems I don’t cut it out quite fast enough, because Natalie picks up on my change in demeanor. “You okay?” she asks, placing her hand on top of mine.

The gesture brings me completely back to the here and now. “Totally fine. What sounds good to you?” I ask, changing the subject.

“I think I’m gonna go with—” Our server comes by, cutting her off. We place our drink orders, along with an order of their black-eyed pea dip. The server jots it all down with a smile and heads off to ring it in.

“As I was saying, I’m gonna go with the chargrilled beef medallions. Something about those loaded mashed potato cakes and fried oysters has my mouth watering. Gonna skip the Tabasco hollandaise though—that stuff is gross.”

“Not a Tabasco fan, Small Fry?”

“Hell no. Cholula or bust.”

“Girl after my own heart,” I murmur, and she blushes the prettiest shade of pink.

“What about you?”

“Def going with the shrimp pasta. There’s no way to go wrong with fresh shrimp paired with roasted mushrooms, chargrilled lemon, greens, and spicy marinara. A match made in culinary heaven.”

“Ooh. That does sound good.”

“Play your cards right, and I’ll share.”

Her returning smile is so beatific, it almost hurts to look at it dead on.

Our server returns, drinks and app balanced on her tray. The grilled French bread accompanying our dip looks divine. After we place our order, I spoon some onto a slice and lift it to Nat’s lips.

She parts them in acceptance of my offering, moaning as the flavors burst across her tongue. The sound is so sensual my pants start to feel a few sizes too small.

Throughout the rest of our dinner, we cover all of the usual first date topics—from our favorite foods to our favorite colors, and everything in between. It’s actually refreshing, getting to know more about the woman Natalie is now, learning about her little quirks and what makes her tick.

Our server returns with the dessert menu, but we both pass, too full from our dinners. I pay the tab, and together we exit the building. I guide her with my hand pressed to the small of her back. My pinky finger brushing over the exposed skin is almost like an adrenaline rush.

Outside, we linger, neither of us wanting our night to end. I check my watch, noting that it’s already after eight. “What time did you tell Jenny you’d be home?”

Natalie shrugs. “I told her I wouldn’t be too late, but we didn’t really settle on an exact time.”

I grin. “Wanna go for a drive?”

She smiles up at me, looking ten kinds of mischievous. “Sure.”

Quickly, I guide her to my car, opening her door and helping her in. “Such a gentleman,” she murmurs, her voice low and suggestive. Jesus, this woman oozes sex appeal, and I’m not even sure she knows it.

I crank the engine and reverse out of my spot. At the stop sign for the main road, I ask her, “Have you ever played Left-Right?”

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