Page 27 of Courageous Demands

“No, of course not,” she whispered, feeling his words like salt in a wound. “What would you call it?”

“Dinner… and we’ll see.”

Alec’s voice was quiet, and he was picking at the last bite of lasagna on his plate, moving it around repeatedly, not looking at her. He didn’t look angry like he did when he first sat down. No, he looked very alone and confused. She had pressed him enough for this evening, and she needed to be satisfied with however it ended.

“Dinner and ‘We’ll see’ sounds perfect,” she murmured and met his eyes as he looked up at her. His dark eyes met hers, and she felt that flare between them that was quickly tamped down.

“Do you want some tiramisu?”

“I think I should probably go.”

“Then I will wrap it up for you,” she said simply, fighting back tears of disappointment as she rose to her feet. Walking past the table, she felt him grab her wrist and turned to look at him. His face was aimed straight ahead, his eyes pinched closed, and his lips pressed together, looking pained. “Alec?”

“I’m gonna need time, okay?”

Her heart slammed in her chest as she choked back the sob that threatened to escape. He looked so concerned, so pained, but his words said so much. He wasn’t shutting her down or giving up, but instead, admitting that he was interested but they still had so far to go.

“We both do,” she said hoarsely. “This is only the first step.”

“I don’t know how many steps I can take.”

“I’m not asking for a number, just a chance.”

Alec turned to her, still holding her wrist, and met her gaze. He stared at her, his forehead creased with concern as he finally let go. For a moment, the fact that he released her sent a bolt of fright straight into her soul, and then he spoke.

“You have your chance… whatever that means for us.”

“I’ll take it,” Willow whispered, grateful as she moved to finish packing up the tiramisu for him. She had put it in a glass container and snapped the lid on top, putting it in an empty plastic grocery bag before putting a big wedge of lasagna in another container. Turning, she noticed him standing there, watching her.

“Alec?”

“We should… I think I’m going to go,” he admitted. “This has been nice and I didn’t expect to enjoy myself – but let’s not push it.”

“Of course.”

“You aren’t mad?”

“Alec, I’m just really glad we are at least trying.”

“Dinner isn’t ‘trying,’” he began and hesitated. “But I guess it’s a start.”

“It’s a start,” she nodded, as he accepted the bag from her and murmured his thanks. His eyes met hers again and she wanted to throw herself into his arms, hug him, plead for him to put the past behind him.

“We’re not kissing,” he said hoarsely… and she fought back a smile.

“Nope. We’re not even having dessert.”

“Maybe you should hang onto this,” he began, starting to hand the bag back to her, and she shook her head.

“Take it, enjoy, and just don’t be a stranger.”

“Maybe we can have coffee or talk again sometime.”

“I would really like that.”

Both hesitated and stood there, waiting.

“Good night.”

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