Page 79 of Keeping Guard
“Where are we going?”
“You’ll see.” He hoped the restaurant he’d chosen was all it had sounded like online.
The Grove Park Inn was all and more than he’d hoped for. The sprawling hotel was over a hundred years old and sat on Sunset Mountain. The exterior of the hotel was uncut granite, harvested from the same mountain the hotel sat on, giving it an old-world look. The main lobby was massive, a huge fireplace the focal point.
There were several restaurants in the hotel, and he’d chosen to make reservations at Sunset Terrace. The mountain views were amazing, the evening perfect, warm enough to sit on the terrace.
As incredible as the views were, though, it was the woman sitting across the small table from him that he couldn’t take his eyes off of. The sun hadn’t set yet, but it was low in the sky. A candle burned on the table, casting a soft glow on her face.
She was happy. He could see that in her eyes as she tried to take in everything around them. The ants were quiet, and it occurred to him that they usually were when he was with her. He didn’t know what that meant, and if he tried to analyze it, he was afraid he’d come to the conclusion that she meant more to him than was good for either of them. So, for tonight at least, he wasn’t going to examine this contentment settling over him.
“I’ve never been here for dinner before,” she said, her eyes finding his. “I do come sometimes at Christmas. You should see the place then. It’s amazing. They have a national gingerbread contest that people from all over the country enter. There are hundreds of gingerbread houses. It’s incredible, the details and how intricate they are. I wouldn’t have the patience for it, but I’m in awe of the people who do. They have a kids’ category, and even those are amazing. The finalists are announced on TV, onGood Morning America, I think.”
He smiled as she babbled on. There probably wasn’t another woman on the planet who chattered the way she did that he could tolerate for long. When she did it, though, it turned him on. Maybe it was Pavlov’s dog syndrome. He was now trained to kiss her when she got on a roll.
“I wonder if I could make a holiday gingerbread beer. Does that sound like it might be good? I don’t know. It could be really bad, but then—”
“Come here, princess.” Suddenly glad it was a small table, he leaned across it. When she just blinked at him, he crooked his finger at her. “Bring that mouth here.”
“Oh.” And then she smiled as she met him halfway.
Although he wanted his tongue inside her mouth, they were in a classy restaurant with other diners around them, so he satisfied himself with a closed-mouth kiss. When she made one of those sighing noises he loved, he sat back before he did forget where they were.
“Why are you grinning?” she said.
“Just thinking. You’re probably the only princess in the world who tastes like spicy beer instead of wine.”
“Is that bad?”
“Hell to the no. It makes for a perfect princess.” There was that shy, pleased smile again. It took so little to make her happy. The men in her life had been fools. Her father for not seeing what an amazing daughter he had before it was almost too late, and her ex...he wasn’t going there. Not now while he was with a beautiful woman on a perfect night. The man was a fool, though.
Later, after a delicious dinner—his, a mouthwatering steak, and hers, Chilean sea bass, which she’d declared was the best thing she’d ever tasted—they strolled the grounds of the hotel. Terraces with firepits were scattered about, and fairy lights were strung in the trees and bushes.
“When I’ve come here, I’ve just gone straight inside to see the gingerbread houses. I’ve never seen all this before,” she said, as they admired the manmade waterfall.
Her hand—soft and warm—was in his, and as they stood there, watching the water flow over the rocks, he never wanted to let go. But he would when the time came for him to leave.
A few years ago, one of his SEAL brothers pushed the woman he loved away because he didn’t think he deserved her. At the time, Noah had thought that was stupid. But wasn’t that how he’d been thinking about Peyton? He didn’t see himself as a prize catch, but maybe he did deserve to be happy as much as the next guy. Something to think about.
But before he could even consider a future with Peyton—did she even want more from him than those tingles?—he had to get his head on straight. If that was possible, and just maybe it was if he could learn how to forgive himself. He wanted to. So fucking much.
Or would it be best for both of them, especially her, if they ended things with fond memories of each other? He’d seen too many relationships sour because of long deployments, love replaced by anger and hurt feelings. The kind of hurt that turned to hate. He didn’t think he could bear her hating him.
“Penny for your thoughts,” she said.
“Not worth half that.” He squeezed her hand. “You ready to go, or do you want to walk around some more?”
“Walk around some more, but not here. Let’s head back downtown. With the street performers, that’s a more fun place to stroll. When we get tired of walking around, we can get a fancy coffee and sit at a sidewalk table and people watch.”
“Your wish is my command, princess.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
Peyton poured ginger ale into a glass for her father when they returned to his house. “Here you go.” She set the glass on the end table. He’d felt good after his chemo treatment, but two hours later, his stomach was unsettled.
He’d wanted to go back to the brewery, but she’d put her foot down, and amazingly he’d only argued a little. He’d also tried to talk her into going to work, but he hadn’t won that battle, either. This was his first treatment, and she refused to leave him without knowing how he would be affected.
“You don’t have to babysit me. I’m going to drink this and then go lie down for a while.”
