Page 200 of Small Town Firsts

When his eyes finally meet mine, I mouth, “Need to talk to you.” He holds up his index finger and nods.

I know he’ll find me when he finishes up in here, so I head back out to tend to my tables. One table is ready to order, one table is fine and dandy, and two are ready for their bill.

Cashing out is a breeze since Alden upgraded us to an all-electronic system. Gone are the days of handwritten tickets and adding totals on a calculator. Hallelujah, because unless I’m halving a recipe, math is not my thing. Like, at all. So much so that I foresee Alden being the one to help Tatum with her homework when the time comes.

Butterflies erupt in my belly at the thought of Alden being in our lives that far down the road, but I know he will be, and if I’m a really lucky lady, he and I will still be together—maybe even married.Jesus, girl. Slow your jets,my logical brain shouts at my overactive imagination.A few weeks of dating and a whole lot of sex does not a marriage make, or something like that.

As I walk the dining room again, I see that all of my tables are content and not in need of me. Which is a good thing, because two strong hands are gripping my elbows and pulling me back into the office. The door shuts behind us, and I turn, melting into Alden.

He slides his lips against mine in a kiss so sensual my knees feel weak. I’m slightly dazed when he pulls away—so much so that it takes me a minute to realize he’s speaking to me.

Naturally, Alden finds this to be hilarious. “You with me, Small Fry?”

“Ha ha, funny. I can’t help it if your touch makes my brain all fuzzy.”

“Does it now?” He tilts his head to the side, a look of faux seriousness painted across his face. “Tell me more.”

His antics make me laugh—I love this playful side of him.

“Seriously though, you said you wanted to talk to me. I’m all ears.”

I nibble my lower lip, nerves zinging through me. “I…I was thinking—no, hoping—we could do a cookout this weekend. And invite my parents.”

He groans and kisses me again, nibbling softly on my lower lip before pulling back just enough to speak. “If that’s what you want, you know I’ll support it. And I think it’s the right thing to do for Tatum.”

“Really? You’re cool with it?”

“Of course I am. They’re your family. They’re Tatum’s family.”

“You’re so good to me. I don’t…I don’t deserve you.”

“If you’re gonna say shit like that, then I’m gonna put your lips to better use.”

He kisses me again, licking, sucking, and biting until I’m a writhing mess. It kills me to do it, but I pull away. “I need to check on my tables,” I pant, far too turned on to be at work.

Alden presses his hardness into me, and I moan. “Yeah, you better. But, damn, I wish you didn’t have to.”

I smile at him and step back. “But, I do.”

He gestures for me to go ahead without him, which is probably for the best since he’s sporting some major wood.

CHAPTER 38

ALDEN

Natalie has beena knot of tension and stress since telling me she wanted to have her parents over. I know they have a lot of shit to sort through and a lot that was left unresolved. So, I’m hoping this will be good for them and help get their relationship back on the right track.

In an effort to defuse a little tension, I told her to invite Jenny and Nate. She lit up at the suggestion, which made me feel all proud and caveman-y.

Currently, she’s in the kitchen obsessing over the sides she is making to go with my grilled chicken and sausage. She actually started prepping everything the night before at her place, and I swear, my eyes about bugged out of my skull when she and Tatum got here this morning and she sent me to her car to help bring things in.

There is an apple crumb pie in the oven, along with scalloped potatoes. On the stove, she has homemade baked beans simmering and a pot of water boiling for her macaroni—she made the cheese sauce last night.

“Gonna go check the grill,” I call over my shoulder, Tatum following along behind me like a pint-sized shadow. But I don’t mind—I love that she wants to be around me, and I especiallyenjoy her enthusiasm for cooking. It’s almost crazy how much alike we are, even without her knowing me for most of her life.

“How you knows when it’s ready?” Tatum asks, standing on her tippy-toes in an effort to see.

“Careful, pretty girl. It’s hot.”

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