Page 77 of Tattered Edges

He pulled his face away from mine and offered me his elbow. I locked up, dropped my keys in my purse, and looped my arm through his as we started for the corner.

“One thing I didn’t take into consideration when we set our date was that Valentine’s Day is only a couple of days away. I had a bit of a time finding us a table. Where we’re going isn’t my first choice, but I hope you’ll enjoy it anyway.”

“I’m not picky. And at the risk of sounding totally cheesy, so long as you’re there, I don’t really care where we end up.”

“That was, in fact,completelycheesy. It’s a good thing I’m not lactose intolerant.”

I laughed, amused not merely by the pun, but the playful way he’d one-upped my level of cheese as we continued our unhurried stroll.

It amazed me how different he was when he let his guard down. He was already interesting, the mystery of the man behind the scowl making him so, but I was learning he was more multifaceted than I’d assumed. He was witty and sweet; intelligent and driven; patient and kind; all the while so confident in who he was, he didn’t pretend to be anything more or less than himself, and he never apologized for it, either.

“Our ride should be here shortly,” he told me as we came to a stop.

“Where are we going?”

“A steakhouse in Covent Garden.”

“Oh, that sounds nice.”

“It’s good, and they serve a decent cocktail.”

His mention of their cocktails reminded me of the last time we went out to dinner.

“Can you believe this time last week, we were climbing into a different Uber, as neighbors?Friends. And now…”

“Now what?” he asked, not unkindly.

“Now everything is different.”

“Is it? I don’t know. We didn’t find ourselves here overnight. I wanted you then as I do now, but it didn’t seem like a good idea at the time.”

“And now? Is this a good idea, or did we just start something that’s unstoppable?”

He didn’t answer me right away, his eyes dancing around my face as he stared at me—our faces lit only by the streetlight a few yards away. Finally, when I was on the cusp of feeling anxious, he slipped his free hand out of his pocket and traced the back of one of his fingers down my cheek and along my jaw, tilting my head back slightly.

“Both, I think,” he muttered before descending for a light kiss.

He’d barely pulled away as our car arrived. We climbed in and out of the cold, and it wasn’t too long before we’d reached our destination. The restaurant was busy, but warm and inviting, and our table was ready right on time.

Dinner was delicious, and my company even more so.

There was newfound freedom between us. I could touch him when I wanted to and allow my gaze to linger longer than I could before. I did this often, which was how I knew he was as enamored by me as I was by him.

When we were offered dessert, unlike last time, Rory was quick to decline. Knowing what cameafterour official first date, I wasn’t the least bit disappointed.

He settled our bill, and when we stood to leave, he helped me back into my coat.

My ginger was a gentleman.

We were halfway to the door when I spotted her, making her way out of the restroom. I did a double take, not quite sure if it was her until her eyes locked with mine.

She jolted at the sight of me, and I stopped when she uttered, “Maeve.”

I thought about correcting her, but then I watched as Juliet took me in more fully—her gaze halting when she noticed my hand, tucked inside of Rory’s.

She raised a single, manicured eyebrow as her eyes shot up to look at Rory before connecting with mine once more.

“I’m surprised you’re still here, in London. I thought by now you would have grown homesick and gone back to the States. I see why you haven’t.”

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