Page 14 of Reclaiming Izabel

“Well, I’ll let you go so you can get ready.”

When our call ended, my anticipation for the date soured a little. I had an hour and a half before Kyle picked me up at seven. I had time to psyche myself back into looking forward to dinner instead of dreading it.

I found my happiness nine years ago. Drake pursued me relentlessly between deployments. We video chatted often when he was down range. He’d scheduled deliveries of flowers and chocolates when he wasn’t around so I’d always think of him. And when he returned, he tried as much as possible to see me, flying up to New York from Virginia Beach, even when it was simply to hang around my apartment while I studied for my finals. Within eight months of knowing each other, we got married. I moved to Virginia Beach and interned with Stockman and Bose Builders and had stayed in the area since.

Three months before that fated mission, Drake mentioned building a house. He had a sizable inheritance from his grandmother’s side. He had no close family to take care of since his parents died when he was young. He was quitting the SEALs and had contacts in the private security business who were offering good money at more than triple his salary as a SEAL.

As if in a trance, I walked over to my home office and pulled out the bottom drawer of the stacking flat-file cabinet. I gently lifted the sheets of vellum paper. The beautiful two-story house I’d lovingly drawn was smeared in several places. I didn’t care if more tears fell and splattered the ink on the design to the point of ruin.

This house would never be built.

“You’re so beautiful tonight.”

I lifted the wineglass and sipped, uncertain how to respond to Kyle’s compliment except, “Thank you.” What he didn’t know was I spent fifteen minutes with a cold compress to my swollen eyes after my bout of ugly crying.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” Kyle asked gently.

“I haven’t been on a date for years. Ah…it’s a bit awkward.”

“Fair enough.” His blue eyes crinkled at the corners. “I hope you’re enjoying your dinner at least.”

We were at a French restaurant. He’d asked me about my favorite food. Honestly, it would be Drake’s grilled steaks—his MadDog special—but that was hardly an appropriate answer, so I answered the next best thing…anything cooked with a lot of butter. I wasn’t picky. I’d known what it was like to go without, having almost become homeless in my teens when my mother could not work because of an injury.

“Oh, yes.” To prove my point, I forked a delicate morsel of buttered fish into my mouth. The track of Kyle’s eyes from my plate to my mouth almost made me choke, especially when I saw them spark with desire.

Drake often teased me about how just the sight of my bow-shaped lips made him hard.

I mentally berated myself for thinking of my dead husband while on a date with another man. Feeling rebellious at my inability to move on, I shot Kyle a sultry gaze. “Do you want to try my dish?”

Startled, color rushed up his cheeks. He was really handsome in that all-American golden-boy way. As opposed to Drake’sdark hair and rugged build, Kyle had a lean runner’s frame. And…there I went comparing the two again.

“Sure,” Kyle replied and shot me a goofy grin.

I cringed at the sound of my nervous giggle, but forced myself to dutifully lift a piece of fish and sweetly offered it to him to try. I inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly as I relaxed into conversation and our meal. It helped that we could talk about architectural trends and our projects.

“Congratulations on convincing the board to offer our services for free to the Solace affordable-housing project,” Kyle said.

“It wasn’t my accomplishment alone. My team helped, and so did the Solace Foundation.”

“Yes, but you spearheaded the program. You should be proud of what you’ve done.”

“It’s the right thing to do,” I said. “When my mother broke her wrist and couldn’t work at the salon, we couldn’t afford our mortgage and almost ended up on the streets.”

“But it didn’t happen, right?” Kyle frowned.

“No. Ma had an ace in her pocket,” I sighed. “She had to swallow a lot of her pride, but she got our heads above water. Still, I’ll never forget what that felt like.” Eating canned food for days, selling our television. My mother almost sold her treasured scissors—a hairstylist’s lifeblood.

“I’m confused. You did your undergrad and masters at Cornell.”

“I had a scholarship.” I smiled. “And Ma…”

“The ace in her pocket?” Kyle raised a brow.

“Nothing devious,” I replied. “Let’s just say I was given a fair chance to qualify. Hey, this is our first date. You’re not expecting me to tell you my life story, are you?”

Kyle grinned sheepishly and changed the subject.

After we ordered dessert, my gaze wandered around the restaurant. That was when I noticed a man at the corner of the nickel-plated bar.

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