Page 27 of Remembering You
His blue eyes were bright and shined like a beacon of light, even in the darkening dusk. Flecks of melted snow glistened on his black sweater. He held my eyes for what felt like an eternity before he finally said, “Do you really believe this is the end of our story?”
I gulped, not knowing how to answer. He’d just had his heart broken. I wasn’t stupid or naïve enough to believe he could already be in love with me after a few days together. Or even feel as strongly drawn to me as I was to him. I swallowed, the mixture of excitement and dread clashing in my gut like a battle royal. Instead, I said nothing. Just stood there, speechless.
He swallowed, pressing his full lips together briefly before saying, “Because I think this is just the beginning of our story.” Then, without waiting for me to answer, he bent down and pressed his mouth to mine.
He even kissed like a hero.
* * *
At seven-fifteen sharp,Jim pulled his car into Jolie’s parking lot. It was a small bistro with a hand painted sign that looked beautifully ornate. The parking lot was packed and inside through frosted windows, I could make out couples eating, holding hands across the tables, sipping wine.
Jim jumped out of the car, circling around to open my door and help me onto my crutches.
I shook my head. “I-I think I can walk without them.”
He leveled me with a look. “The doctor said to use them until you had your check up with him next Monday, right?”
I glanced at the other date nights happening inside through the window. The women with their coiffed hair and sleek velvet dresses. Heels. They were probably all wearing heels. And I was in a wool dress, my hair in a ponytail and big, warm boots—which were the only shoes I could wear with my ankle at the moment.
I bit my lip, feeling like I paled in comparison to the other women inside the restaurant. Would Jim regret asking me out if he saw how I compared to the other women in there? Would he wish he was with an older woman? A more experienced woman?
“It’s just a few steps into the restaurant,” I said. I can make it a few steps without my crutches.”
“Just because you can do something, doesn’t mean you should.”
Well, damn. He had me there.
I sighed and held out my hands for the crutches. I was pretty sure he wasn’t going to let me win that fight, anyway. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say Jim Tripp is just as stubborn as I was and would likely carry me into the restaurant before he allowed me to walk without my crutches.
We entered Jolie and within a moment, the hostess led us to our table. We barely sat down before a server came over, handing me a menu, dipping his head toward me. His dark, nearly jet black hair, was slicked to the side and he gave me a warm smile. His eyes ticked back and forth between us, finally landing on Jim. “Mr. Tripp,” he said, “So glad you could join us tonight.”
Jim gave him a smile. “Thanks, Francois. There’s been a slight change of plans tonight. This is Marty.”
Francois smiled, looking to me and nodding. “Marty,” he said, his French accent present, though not entirely overwhelming. “Enchante.”
“Jolie is an institution around here,” Jim said, looking across the table at me. “Francois’s family opened it decades ago, back in a time that culturally diverse restaurants weren’t as welcomed in most towns. Especially small towns.”
Francois held up his finger. “Ah, yes, but Maple Grove has always been progressive, especially for provincial America.”
“Marty just moved here,” Jim said, beaming.
“And you two were friends before?” Francois asked.
I shook my head no. “We just met on Sunday.”
Francois smiled, just the slightest curve of his thin lips. “Ah, I see.” Only, it was obvious he didn’t see. There were a million unanswered questions twinkling in his brown eyes.
Tension was thick between us. Like fog rolling in on a misty morning. “Do you?” I asked, hating the way I nervously giggled when I was uncomfortable. “Because I sure don’t. This week’s been crazy. I rode a bus for thirteen hours to get up here. Fell into a snowbank, twisted my ankle, met my supervisor at the hospital—”
“The hospital?” Francois’s eyes widened. “Sheila?” he asked and Jim nodded, his eyes drifting closed.
“Yes, Sheila,” I said, trying to quickly gloss over the questioning glance in Francois’ eyes. “And that’s only the beginning of my crazy week. Jim was so kind and helpful and when his dinner plans… um, well, when they…” I cleared my throat. Crap. I was full on rambling now and couldn’t exactly blurt out the fact that he’d just broken up with his long-time girlfriend a few days ago and was now on a date with me. And hadkissedme. Good lord, Jim Tripp kissed me. “When they fell through,” I managed to continue, “he brought me instead.”
Jim sighed, his eyes fluttering open, meeting Francois’s, and he shrugged. “The rumors were true. Let’s just say, you and Elsa were right about Sheila.”
Francois winced and placed a palm on Jim’s shoulder. “I’m so sorry. I’d hoped we had seen it wrong that night in Laconia.”
“I just wish I had listened to you sooner. I’m sorry I lashed out at you both when you brought it up to me.”
