Page 7 of Having the Bear's Baby

Embarrassment and a rush of tingly girly parts ignited within Emma, leaving her momentarily off balance. Pull yourself together, she admonished herself. You’ve got a date to get through.

“Thank you. Are you ready to go?” she asked, attempting to regain her composure.

Liam’s nod was accompanied by a courteous gesture as he walked her to his car and opened the passenger door for her. Emma couldn’t help but notice his gentlemanly demeanor, a quality that was increasingly rare in the modern dating landscape.

His hand brushed against hers briefly as she settled into the seat, sparking an unexpected surge of electricity that sent shivers down her spine. Emma took a steadying breath, grateful for the momentary distraction of him going around the car to climb into the driver’s seat.

During the ride to the restaurant, they exchanged light chatter about their respective weeks, a conversation that served as a soothing bridge to ease the tension between them. Upon arriving, Liam exhibited his chivalry by rushing to her side to open her car door, a simple yet significant gesture that spoke volumes about his character.

He put his arm out to her. She smiled and looped her hand around it. “I’m not used to being treated like a princess.”

He chuckled as they walked to the entrance. “I don’t think anyone should have to be a princess to be treated with respect and like a lady. I may be on my best behavior, but my mother did make sure I knew how to treat a woman.”

Emma’s laughter bubbled up in response to Liam’s comment. “Finally! I would love to meet a woman after my own heart.”

Amid the pleasant hum of the restaurant’s ambiance, their companionship seemed to solidify. Liam’s reply held a hint of assurance, a spark of optimism that found its way into Emma’s heart. She could feel herself blushing, her cheeks tinged with warmth at his words. The prospect of connecting with someone who truly resonated with her values and outlooks was exhilarating, and she couldn’t help but hope that this was the beginning of something special.

As they patiently awaited their turn to be seated, a sense of anticipation hung in the air like a gentle current. There was an unspoken understanding between them, a shared excitement for the evening that lay ahead. It was a feeling that surpassed mere curiosity … a recognition that this encounter could mark the start of something she’d been wanting for so long.

Their table was finally ready, and Liam’s courteous nature shone through once again as he pulled out Emma’s chair for her before taking his own seat. There was no hint of arrogance or ulterior motives in his actions; it was evident that his upbringing had instilled a genuine respect for others in him. Emma appreciated his small gestures of chivalry, each one reaffirming the notion that he was indeed a gentleman.

Throughout the evening, the course of conversation felt as natural as the ebb and flow of the tide. Their words came effortlessly, carrying with them a shared sense of ease and comfort. Liam’s openness and infectious laughter had a transformative effect on Emma. A sense of freedom unfolded within her with his every laugh, allowing her to relax.

Liam’s genuine interest in Emma’s thoughts and opinions was a refreshing departure from the norm. He seemed to hang on every word she spoke, regardless of its subject matter. It was a subtle yet deeply meaningful gesture that made Emma feel seen and valued, further solidifying the connection forming between them. She found herself opening up and sharing stories she might not have felt comfortable discussing with anyone else.

The synergy between them was undeniable, like two puzzle pieces fitting perfectly together.

As the evening progressed, Emma’s heart sank slightly as the check was brought to their table. The reality that their time together was coming to an end was a bittersweet realization. She had grown accustomed to Liam’s company and the effortless rapport they shared.

She mustered a smile and thanked Liam for his generosity as he insisted on paying. Their exchange held a touch of playfulness, a fleeting attempt to prolong the evening just a bit more. Gathering her belongings, Emma reached for her purse as they prepared to leave, a mixture of gratitude and reluctance washing over her.

As they stepped out of the restaurant into the night, Emma’s heart was aflutter with the hope and curiosity that accompanied the start of something truly special.

Liam asked, “You’re not in a rush to get home, are you? I understand if you are.”

Her heart fluttered. “No, not at all. Why?”

His eyes grew bluer at her response. “Well, I was thinking maybe we could fit in a round of mini-golf at the park nearby. I don’t know if it’s your thing, and I’m a terrible golfer, but I figured we could continue to get to know each other and enjoy a cool night.”

Emma was thrilled he wanted to continue seeing her. Her hope blossomed. She eagerly nodded yes. “I’m not very good at golf either. I know the basics, and that’s it,” she admitted.

“That works for me. That means at least we both have the same skill level. I must warn you that I’m competitive, though.”

“Oh, so am I,” she responded with a smirk.

* * *

Amid the comical nature of the miniature golf course, Emma and Liam found themselves engaging in a spirited game of putt-putt. Armed with their beat-up putters and neon-colored balls, they stepped onto the green with a mix of playful enthusiasm and friendly competition.

The initial hole had passed uneventfully, but as they made their way through more intricate obstacles … including an animated clown’s gaping mouth and rotating windmills … the atmosphere shifted.

The casual banter that had defined their evening took on a more competitive edge as each of them attempted to outdo the other. Their good-natured rivalry was accentuated by the occasional burst of laughter and exchanged glances that grew hotter with each hole putted.

Liam’s ball sailed effortlessly through the obstacles, arriving at the hole with practiced precision. Meanwhile, Emma found herself locked in a comical struggle with the mischievous clown. The contraption was determined to taunt her, repeatedly spitting her ball back out with an eerie cackle.

Frustration bubbled within her. “Oh, you piece of shit!” She stopped herself from throwing the putter into the stream.

Liam’s laughter was infectious, and soon, Emma couldn’t help but join in. She glanced at Liam with a smirk. “Seriously, though. Are you seeing this? We are gonna be here all night. I think my ball is defective.”

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