Page 29 of Bourbon & Bonfires

I don’t respond and stand staring at Dr. Burning as he walks to the front door, locks it, and turns the light off before walking past me and patting me on the shoulder as he laughs.

Great. A mother who likes to set up her bachelor son. The same one I have a dinner date with on Friday. This has the makings of a really bad ending.

I’m not known to be much of a risk taker in life. Throwing out not one, but three dinner invitations to Addison was quite the risk. I wasn’t quite sure how friend-zoned I’d been but knew by the lingering looks she was casting my way, I had a chance. And, like anytime I’m with her, I feel this overwhelming desire to touch her, to do things for her, to make her feel special. Sure, taking a frozen yogurt to her isn’t the grandest gesture of romance, but it sure beats not taking a frozen yogurt.

Texting her was the second risk of the week. I could have called her a few hours before I planned to pick her up, not leaving her time to back out because I knew she’d try. But, that’s a total dick move, and I couldn’t do that to her. I’m not sure why, but I feel free to tease and push the limits between asshole and flirtatious with Addison and know she’ll dish it back just the same.

What I hadn’t expected were the sporadic text messages from her all week, asking me for hints about dinner and what she should wear. My response each time was simple: dress warm.

Sure, I could go the traditional first date route with a nice dinner, getting to know you small talk, and a quick peck on the cheek at the door. None of that feels right, and it isn’t me. Instead, I’ve planned to pick up some takeout, drive her out to Jameson’s property, and eat dinner under the stars with a fire.

I want to spend time with Addison and get to know her. Most of all, I want her to be comfortable, and I get the impression being out with me in town isn’t exactly comfortable for her. It isn’t that she’s said anything, it’s more of how she hasn’t said anything. Just a feeling I have.

Then, my mother threw the biggest monkey wrench in my plans and may have screwed up my ability to push for dates two and three. We have family dinner most every Sunday. Each of my siblings, their significant others and kids, plus me sit at the same table we grew up eating our meals laughing and sharing stories from our week.

But this week my mother has thrown us all for a loop with Friday night family dinner. Sure, she’s trying to play it off like she just happened to make too much food tonight and suddenly she and my dad have plans on Sunday. Which I know is bullshit because my mom has never had a conflict for Sunday dinner. Ever.

When I called my sister and my brother this afternoon, neither knew what was happening, except they both had to cancel their own Friday night plans. Wyatt was less than pleased since his kids will be at their mom’s and he planned on spending time with Raquel alone. What was most troubling wasn’t that my mother had concocted some sort of family dinner plan to drag me to her house, it was that she knew about Addison. She didn’t know I was going out with Addison, but she did suggest I bring that nice woman whose son works for me to dinner too.

I paused a second too long and she hung up. The conversation was over, and I had no out. Well sure, I could have called her back and told her no. I could have told her I had plans. I could have told her I didn’t know Addison. There is a laundry list of things I could have told my mother. Except Willa Montgomery does not takenofor an answer, and she would have likely found out where I was ordering dinner and staked out the place herself to drag me home for dinner.

I’m taking a chance by not telling Addison where we’re going for dinner, but I’m hoping I’ll make up for it with the bonfire, drinks, and dessert afterward. If that doesn’t work, I’ll make sure my mom knows she may have very well taken the title of Queen of the Cock Block.

I pull up to Addison’s house and park behind her car in the driveway. As I step out of my truck, I see a blonde walking down the street, pushing a stroller, and I pause to say hello to Dakota.

“Hey Landon,” she sing songs with a larger than life smile.

“Dakota. Hey girls,” I reply, bending down level with the girls and tickling little Cali before high-fiving Ari’s offered hand.

“We’re out for a walk. What a surprise seeing you here.”

“Somehow I doubt that.” I would give Dakota the benefit of the doubt, but she’s peering around me to look at Addison’s house. “I’ll let you get back to your walk.” I turn and stroll slowly up the walkway, giving Dakota time to retort, because I know she will.

“I’m glad you’re taking her out. I have a good feeling about this.”

Just as I stop to turn to respond, the front door opens and Addison steps out onto the porch. Dressed in a pair of tight dark jeans tucked into a pair of cowboy boots, a long sweater hangs off her shoulder, showing a peek of her skin, and I’m stunned quiet. Behind me, I hear a giggle and a quiet, “Yep.”

“Hey Dakota.”

“Oh my God. It just occurred to me,” Dakota screams, startling not only me but her own children. “You guys have to date. Or get married. It’s kismet!”

I look to Addison, who is standing on her porch with a look I know mirrors the same confused one on my face. “What are you talking about? We’re having dinner. Relax,” I say, hoping it calms her down.

“Sorry. But, you’re Landon Montgomery and you’re Addison Sinclair.” Her arms are flailing expressively. “If you got married, Addy, you would be Addison Montgomery!”

“Did you bump your head? What are you talking about?” I ask, completely perplexed. “Do you know what she’s rambling on about?” I question out loud as I turn to Addison who is doubled over in a fit of laughter, and I’m even more confused.

“Grey’s Anatomy, Landon. Come on. You have to know.”

“Yeah, I really don’t. You guys are weird. Say goodbye, Dakota, I need to get my date out of this fit you’ve put her in.”

“Fine, see ya in the morning, Addy. Or, maybe noooootttt,” she sings as she walks away. Good grief. I need new friends.

I continue my walk up to the porch and stop in front of Addison, who has ceased the hysterics but is still smiling wide. My attraction to this woman is never in question but now, with the look of pure joy and happiness in her face, it’s off the charts, and I’m not sure there has ever been a more beautiful woman. Her hair is down and wavy, barely touching her shoulders, drawing my attention straight to the sliver of skin peeking from her off the shoulder sweater.

“Hey,” she whispers, as she wipes tears from her cheeks.

“Hey yourself. You look beautiful.”

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