Page 137 of 1001 Dark Nights: Bundle Forty-Seven

“And you think she does?” he asks.

“Yeah, definitely. She would have texted me already if you’d gotten a thumbs down,” I assure him.

We arrive at the restaurant, and he backs the truck into a spot. He shifts into park, but his hands stay on the wheel, gripping tightly.

“Is everything okay, Sid?”

“Yeah. Everything’s great.” He releases the steering wheel and turns off the engine.

I follow his lead and get out of the truck.

The place we’re going tonight is causal, but it has the prettiest rose and ivy covered gazebo. He laces his fingers with mine and heads in that direction instead of the entrance to the restaurant. When we’re standing in the middle he stops and takes my other hand. He looks down at our clasped hands.

I give his a squeeze. “Are you sure everything is okay?”

“Positive.” He blows out a breath and his gaze lifts to mine. “I don’t think I recognized how nervous I was about meeting Violet until a minute ago.”

“She likes you, you have nothing to worry about.”

“That’s good.” He smiles and brings my hands to his lips kissing my knuckles. “Because I just realized I’m totally in love with you.”

I blink at him a few times. I know how I feel about him, but hearing him say it first is kind of a shock. “Are you sure?”

He bites his lips together and nods once. “It’s okay if you’re not there yet.”

“I’m there. I’m here. With you. In the love boat. Or gazebo.” I fling a hand around. “I just didn’t expect you to say it first. But I’ve been thinking it a lot lately. In my head, obviously.”

His uncertain expression shifts to amusement. “Have you?”

“Often right after sex and especially after you’ve gone down on me, but also when you text me in the morning, and at night, or flowers show up at my work, or whenever I see you, to be perfectly honest.” I link my hands behind his neck. “It’s been a struggle keeping it to myself lately, so I’m glad you had the bigger balls of the two of us and made it easy for me to admit I feel the same way.” I’m rambling, which isn’t unusual during a bout of nerves. “This is a really perfect spot for an ILY drop.”

“I agree.”

“I love you, too,” I whisper. “Now you should kiss me.”

He dips down and brushes his lips over mine and my happy heart melts while my toes curl. Today couldn’t be more perfect.

* * * *

Despite the ILY drop, we don’t get the kids together right away. I’m just happy to feel all the feelings without adding the anxiety of hoping our kids get along, so we’ve been dating several months when Sidney proposes a backyard barbeque at his place, so Vi and Miller can meet. This is the big test.

Miller is a nice kid. School isn’t his favorite, but he’s dedicated to hockey. A bit of a follower with his friends, but his best buddy just got picked up by Toronto and has moved out there for training camp, so Miller’s been focused on hockey these days, according to Sidney. Now that he has a friend in the pros, he’s doubling his efforts on the ice so he can join him next year.

Violet and I load our beach bags into the car—Sidney has a swimming pool—and drive across town.

Exposure therapy with Violet worked well with Sidney, and as predicted, the word vomit shifted into normal conversation after the first few meetings. Or as normal as conversation gets with Violet, anyway.

“Wow, this is a swanky neighborhood. Hockey scouts must do pretty well, huh?” Violet pushes her glasses up her nose.

“Seems that way.” We haven’t talked about finances, but based on his house, his car and the way he dresses, scouts do okay.

I pull into Sidney’s driveway. I’ve been to his place a few times now. Since his son often has long hockey practices in the evening, sometimes we order takeout instead of going to a restaurant so we can get in some sexy time without worrying about anyone’s ass being on display in front of our teenagers.

“Our house looks like something this house birthed,” Violet observes.

“It’s significantly bigger,” I agree.

I do just fine on my own, but not hockey scout fine. Violet and I live in a small two-bedroom townhouse with a backyard the size of a postage stamp. But it’s ours and we’ve made it home.

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