Bullet ✔️

Chapter 16

I didn't pack any nice clothes for my vacation, because I was pretty sure I'd spend it in the garage with dad and not at an Italian restaurant with the handsome son of one of dad's customers. I ended up going for some black jeans and a flowery blouse I found among mom's old clothes that dad still hadn't gotten rid of. Though it was a little looser around the chest on me than it ever was on her, I looked good. Good enough to get a good ending to my date? Maybe.

Dad told me I looked lovely when I came downstairs, his eyes lingering on the blouse with a smile on his face. I liked that about us; we were both consumed by grief when she left us, but we were always open about it, and as a result, I could use her old clothes and he could warm himself under her knitted blankets without being pulled under an emotional veil.

"I hope you'll have a nice evening, little one," he said as the doorbell rang, and I smiled in return before going to open up.

William cleaned up nicely. He'd tried to tame his curly hair, but it came free here and there, which made it look a lot more sweet. He was dressed in a pair of dark blue jeans and a plaited shirt, with a smile just as charming as the day before plastered on his lips. He'd brought me flowers that dad accepted and said he'd put in a vase, and he added, "I won't be waiting up," with a wink, before we left.

I was hopelessly nervous, I realized, as he opened the door to his truck for me. It was a newer model, I noticed, one that dad would probably scratch his head trying to fix, because of all the electrical stuff and modern technology replacing old parts and screws. William helped me get up into the seat, before he walked around and we drove the small stretch over to the other side of town, to the restaurant.

"Johnsen for two," William said to the waiter that approached us when we got inside the place. He'd even made a reservation, even if the place wasn't that full. He definitely got an A for effort so far, and his pleasant explanation of why he loved his truck on the way over put a smile on my face.

It was practical, and he was a practical man who needed space in his car for power tools and saws and materials. But he explained it with some side notes and anecdotes about his work and his love for the raw and natural stuff. He liked the forest, and he loved living just close enough to a good walk through the wilderness, and just close enough to Datoches to get whatever he needed.

The way he talked was so loose and easy, and never forced. He sounded like someone who genuinely cared about everything he talked about, without loving the sound of his own voice. I liked that about him.

"I can really recommend the bolognese here," he said once we'd found our table and sat down with our menus. "It's lovely, like you." He grimaced slightly at his own words, and cleared his throat. "Not that you're food, I wouldn't eat you—er, well, I could...oh, god, this is going great, isn't it?"

It was going great...except the fact that I imagined Damian's dark, husky voice saying, "I'd eat you," without hesitation, while he stared into my eyes. What was wrong with me? I tried to keep my face neutral and smiled at my date. "I'll try the bolognese, then," I said, lowering my menu. "And thank you. You look lovely too."

He sent me a grateful smile, just as the waiter came back and he ordered two of the bolognese and the recommended wine. "I can pick up my truck tomorrow," he told me once the waiter had gone again, and he squared his shoulders. "So, um, maybe a weird question, but how is it that you're single? I mean, look at you.."

I knew he meant well, so I tried not to let my memories take over, and I shrugged. "I've been unlucky, I guess, meeting the wrong men."

"The city's probably full of guys who don't want anything serious." He nodded in agreement. "I'm starting to think you'll never get what you want unless you go for it, so, I'm sorry if I was a little forward asking for a coffee, and then dinner, but you're beautiful and I knew I'd regret it if I didn't try."