Page 23 of Succeeding Love

She ran her hand over the smooth dashboard, an awestruck look in her eyes. “The inside looks new!”

Pride filled my chest. I worked hard on this car, and it’s nice hearing praise for it.

She leaned back to look in the backseat, lifting her butt slightly in the air. Her dress rode up just enough where I could see the tops of the back of her thighs. My face grew hot, and I had to look away and shut the door so as not to embarrass myself. Her skin looked so smooth and soft. I had to take my time walking around the car to make sure my face, and my pants, weren’t displaying my inner thoughts.

“So, where are we going?” She asked as I got in.

“I was thinking Luigi’s?” I looked up restaurants all day, and that one looked the most promising, with excellent reviews, a patio view of the river, and it was close to the theaters and bars, so we had a lot of options for what to do afterward.

“Oh, I love Luigi’s! My sister and I go there on girl’s nights sometimes.”

I mentally high-five myself for putting in the work to find a good Italian restaurant. Judging by her lasagna, I thought she would like that.

The car ride was fun with Feighlynn. She liked to touch everything in the car, which I found cute, just like most things she did. She turned on the radio and set the stations for me. That started a heated discussion on country music versus soft rock. Surprisingly, she preferred rock to country. I grew up on Alan Jackson, George Strait and Reba, so I prefer the older country stuff. She was so fucking adorable singing along off-key with Journey and the Eagles, so I conceded to her by the time we pulled into the restaurant.

Damn, I felt like a king walking into the restaurant with Feighlynn on my arm. Ushering her through the door was my first excuse to touch her, resting my hand on her lower back. When I saw her cheeks color over with a rosy pink hue, her eyes shyly averting to the ground as she bit that bottom lip, I knew she didn’t mind. I kept my hand proudly on her lower back until the hostess showed us to our table out on the patio.

The view was as good as the reviews said it would be. You could see the city glittering on the other side of the river, and even though it was getting dark, there were still people lingering in the park on the other side. Music and children’s squeals traveled over to us, making Feighlynn laugh softly. She looked enamored with the sights. I was feeling pretty enamored by my view too.

“Can I start you off with drinks?” the server asked. “Our cocktail list is at the back of the menu.”

“Hmm, can I just get the house white for now? And water?” Feighlynn asked.

“Sure,” the server smiled. “And you, sir?”

“Shiner and a water too.”

“Great. I’ll bring those right out while you look over the menus.”

Feighlynn’s infectious grin made my heart race as we talked about the park. She said that her kids used to love going there when they were little, and it brought back a lot of wonderful memories for her.

“Your son seems like a good kid,” I told her. “I was surprised to see a teen boy taking out my mom’s trash this morning,” I said.

“He is a good boy.” She had this fond, loving look in her eyes. “He’s a nurturer. Always has been. I always tell him he was my first love.”

“Wouldn’t that have been his father?” I asked, kicking myself for asking it afterward. I’m as bad as my mom with putting my foot in my mouth.

Of course, Feighlynn didn’t act offended or down. “Not really,” she shrugged, taking a long sip from her wine glass. “I mean, sure, I loved Nick, but that came after having Preston, and it stemmed from him being my baby’s father. The only reason I married so young was because of Preston. Nick was always a little more stiff than me, so I wasn’t sure it would work out.” She sighed, leaning back in her chair while gazing at the children playing in the lit city park. “It didn’t in the end.”

Nick must be a complete idiot. I’m not completely sure about the circumstances of their divorce. Just the small amounts of information Feighlynn has told me, and the gossip from my mom, but it sounded like he was the one that fucked up. I’m justsurprised that Feighlynn has remained as positive as she has. I was a fucking mess for years after my divorce.

“My marriage didn’t either,” I said, opening up too. She was talking about her divorce because of my stupid question, so I felt the need to be vulnerable as well. “It was thirteen years ago, and we didn’t have kids, but it still fucked me up for some time.” I reached across the table and brushed my fingers over hers. “I’m impressed that you can stay so positive.”

She smiled warmly. “I just wanted my kids to remain happy. Plus, it helped that we both checked out months before he told me about….. Well,” she bit her lip nervously. “We drifted apart for some time before, so that made it easier to accept. I didn’t want to waste energy on getting angry or being hateful. Maybe if I didn’t have the kids, but it would have done them no good. He is still their father.”

“Is he a good father?”

At that, her smile grew. “Yes. Seeing him be their father made me fall for him. He’s remained a good father through everything, so I can still respect him for that.”

I never thought about having kids before, but seeing the way Feighlynn’s face lights up as she went into more stories of her kids, it had me craving something I never considered before. Even the way her ex fit into the stories had me amazed. She spoke of him not like a resentful ex, but like a partner in parenting that she held respect for, just as she said.

“Your kids are with your ex tonight?” I asked between forks full of pasta.

“Yep. He still gets them every weekend.”

“Every weekend, huh?” I smiled crookedly. “That leaves your weekends mostly open?”

“Maybe,” she said shyly, twirling linguine in her spoon.

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