Page 36 of Lost Love Found

It’s Tuesday now and by the time 7 pm hits, I’m a ball of nerves. I’ve paced in front of Adam’s trailer for about six minutes, and I just can’t force myself to go in. He’s probably alone in there, and I don’t think I’m prepared to be alone with him just yet. I don’t have time to get ready though, because he comes out of his trailer, all bushy beard, wet hair, smelling like a man should.

“Tornerose, you’re here. Why didn’t you come in? It’s freezing!” He pulls me into a hug, and I close my eyes when I feel his beard tickle my jaw as he kisses my cheek.

“Oh, hi. Um, I wasn’t sure if you were dressed, so I waited out here. It’s fine.” I smooth the front of my coat down as he keeps one arm around me, leading us towards the exit. He looks down at me with those sparkly eyes, and I melt a little into his touch. “Hi.” The crooked little smile on his face could literally set ice on fire. And panties. I’m pretty sure it just incinerated mine.

He waves goodbye to a few people, including Sierra, the friendly security guard that witnessed our collision a few days back. He opens the car door for me and we sit quietly for a few minutes as I chew on my bottom lip.

“Are you nervous, L?” I didn’t even notice Adam’s body had turned towards me.

“Huh? Oh…maybe a little.” He moves closer, eyes on my lips as his hand moves to hold my chin. His thumb pulls my lower lip from its cage then moves over it slowly, deliberately.

“You’ll hurt yourself biting down so hard, Tornerose.” His gaze locks on mine, now. “Nothing to be nervous about. It’s just us, ok?” I nod, willing my nerves to settle.

Our driver, Tom, gets us to the restaurant quickly, and I’m grateful for it. During the short drive, we mostly we talk about the movie and how we both can’t wait to get back to LA weather.

As we walk in, the hostess seems to expect us, but her eyes still widen when she lays eyes on Adam. Uh-huh. I know, girl. I know.

Adam helps me out of my coat, and I feel his knuckles travel down my arm, making me shiver. I try to cover it up by quickly turning around.

“Thank you,” I murmur, before he hands the coat off to the hostess and his hand lands on the small of my back. His gaze travels slowly up my body, taking in the details of my outfit - starting at the heeled booties, then tracing up my legs, hips and waist, lingering on my breasts and lips before finally meeting my eyes. He's admiring the red long-sleeved sweater dress I almost decided not to wear, but ultimately chose over everything else in my closet. The dress hugs my curves perfectly without being too tight, while a small slit at the hemline shows just the right amount of skin.

“Wow. You look… wow. You’re stunning, Elaina.” I take the opportunity to take him in, too. Light blue cashmere sweater layered over a striped dress shirt and black pants. Yum! Now stop licking your lips. He is NOT on the menu!

We’re seated in a private corner, which is great because I don’t want all eyes on us for our first fake date. Though I suppose eyes would be good since the point is sort of for us to be seen together. The waiter comes around and asks what we’d like for drinks and Adam orders a bottle of my favorite red. If this were a real date, he’d probably get to second base tonight. But I better not think too much about that, lest my body betray me again.

15

what’s your favorite muffin?

adam

Fucking hell, Elaina in this goddamn dress. How am I supposed to function with her looking like that and licking her lips? Thank god we were seated quickly. I already knew they had her favorite red wine here so at least I didn’t need to use my brain to order.

“Is it OK that I ordered wine? Not sure you’ll want any after the other night.” I chuckle and smile at her and I’m glad to see she’s smiling back.

“No, wine is fine. If you had ordered vodka, I might have had to leave though.” She giggles as she reads her menu. “I’m lucky in the sense that I rarely get badly hungover, but I had an awful headache the next day.”

“You did?” I place my hand over her menu, so she’ll look at me. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

She cocks her head to the side and lifts her shoulders in a lazy half-shrug, the corners of her lips turn down in a smirk.

“Like I said, no big deal,” she says nonchalantly, as if being hungover when she agreed to be my fake girlfriend wasn't at all significant. “It should have been much worse. The toast, water and pain killers saved me. That and the greasy breakfast you prepared.” She places a warm hand over mine and squeezes. “I was fine. I promise. You took great care of me.”

The anguish on her face is palpable at the mere mention of that night, and I feel a pang of guilt for dredging up her nightmare. I take her hand in mine and kiss each one of her knuckles, savoring the way her breath hitches slightly at my touch. We sit silently together, our eyes locked in a meaningful gaze, until we're disturbed by the clinking sound of our wine glasses being placed on the table by the waiter.

Dinner conversation moves from our ongoing playlist to the movie Elaina will be working on later this year. She talks excitedly about being back home and how she’s looking forward to having her kitchen back. Apparently, I will be well fed – her words, not mine – while I live with her. I would never expect her to cook for me, but she’s very enthusiastic about doing it.

“What’s your favorite kind of muffin?” Her eyes have their sparkle back as she’s hanging on every word I say next.

“Um, probably something with lots of fruit in it. Like raspberries or strawberries?” I don’t know that I’ve ever been asked this question before. “What’s yours?”

“OK, so a fruity muffin. Noted. Mine is lemon-poppy seed. My mom always makes it for me and hers are the best.” She smiles and looks down at her lap before looking back up at me. “No one has ever asked me what my favorite muffin is before.”

“And my guess is you know what everyone’s favorites are and you make it for them, right?”

She blushes and bites down on her bottom lip. “How did you know?”

“Because that’s just the kind of person you are, Lainey.” I reach over and tuck her hair behind her ear, letting my knuckles run down her neck. “You think of everyone. You want to know these little details about them so you can make them feel special. And you do.”

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