Chapter 7: Now I'm Feeding Her?

Rex

What the fuck am I doing? Seriously, what the fuck am I doing? I'm having dessert with a beautiful woman who has had a super shitty day, that's what I'm doing. That's all I'm doing.

Maybe if I keep telling myself that, I'll actually believe it.

Because I already know that I'm lying to myself.

It's not as if I never have more than only sex with women. It's just rare. Dinner usually leads to expectations of more, and I don't do more.

I wouldn't be surprised if Chloe stood me up. Especially after she goes to her friends and tells them where she's going. And if she does show up, the chances of her being alone are pretty slim.

That thought leads to me wondering why I care so much and really want her showing up alone.

I'm already seated at a table, the late hour of the evening allows for a quieter restaurant, even for a Saturday night. My server refills my water and gives me a sympathetic look. No doubt she thinks I'm getting stood up given the fact that I've been here for twenty minutes by myself, insisting that I'm not going to be dining alone.

"Are you sure I can't get you anything else?"

"Just the water for now. If I get stood up like you're thinking, I'll order something to go."

"I wasn't thinking it." Her nose wrinkles. "Okay, I was totally thinking that. Maybe she just got held up," she winces, right shoulder pulling up to her ear.

I don't tell her that she would be getting held about five blocks away if that was the case. "Yeah."

She gives me one last pitying look and I tighten my fists. This is why I don't do relationships. Not that this is a relationship, or even a date, but it's something out of my comfort zone and now I know why. Because I feel like a damned idiot right now, sitting here waiting on a girl who I demanded tell me why she was crying and then all but propositioned her and made her join me for dessert. Who does that?

Me, apparently.

Because I was suddenly desperate to spend more time with her.

I couldn't take my eyes off Chloe before I approached her, and then when we were in the office and she opened up about what a monumentally crappy day she'd had, all the while keeping a sense of humor about it all, I knew why. She's not just beautiful, she's funny, a bit off-the-wall, and completely unexpected.

Scrolling through social media on my phone is a piss poor distraction from wondering if I'm going to be eating my dessert at home while nursing the first time I've been stood up in my life, but it's better than staring at the door hoping for her to appear.

"Here you are," the hostess who greeted me when I walked in says and I look up to see her holding her arm out in the direction of my table, Chloe standing next to it looking as nervous as I feel.

I quickly drop my phone on the table and stand up. "Hey, you made it."

She nods and I move to pull out her chair but she waves me off. "I did."

Once we're seated I lean over and say, "But you just about didn't, right?"

Chloe points behind her. "I sat out there in my rental for a while first."

"I freaked you out, huh?"

"No. I did that to myself," she laughs.

Our server comes over, giving me a relieved smile, and I order a coffee. Thanks to my addiction to caffeine, it doesn't keep me awake at night and I can drink it all hours of the day. Chloe orders a hot tea and I ask for the dessert menus to be brought over.

"Do we need a menu?" Chloe asks. "I just figured you already knew what you wanted."

"But you don't," I remind her.

"Then order a couple things and we'll share."

"Okay then. We'll take The Cookie, a slice of the raspberry cheesecake, brownie bites, and the apple fritters."

"You got it. I'll be back with your drinks and get those started for you."

"I take it you've been here a time or two," Chloe teases.

Once she's gone, I lean my forearms on the table. "The desserts here are addictive. Usually I come here whenever I finish a project."

"Celebration with sweets? I like that."

There's another fun way to celebrate, I think, but because I'm not an idiot, I don't say it. "The Cookie will knock your socks off."

She cocks her head to the side, glancing around the nearly empty restaurant before looking at me again. Her eyes are so dark they're almost black but they lack any sort of sparkle. There's an underlying sadness that sits in the depths. I wonder if it's because of the day she had or something else. "Is that what it's actually called?"

I nod. "Yup. It doesn't need a fancy name."

"Well, now I'm intrigued."

"So, how much shit did your friends give you when you explained why you were leaving?"

Her cheeks turn an adorable shade of pink and she tucks a long strand of her deep red hair behind her ear. "Well, let's just say that they were almost as curious as I am. It's not exactly my M.O. that I would meet a stranger for dessert."

Raising my eyebrows, I ask in a challenge, "But you'd swipe right on Tinder?"

"Now that didn't exactly turn out in my favor, did it?"

I chuckle. "No. No, it did not."

Our server places Chloe's mug of hot water along with a container of different flavors of tea in front of her and a mug of coffee in front of me along with a small pitcher of creamer. "I have the cheesecake and brownie bites for you. The Cookie and fritters will be out shortly."

"Sounds good. Thank you."

We ready our drinks and Chloe wraps her hands around her mug before lifting it to her lips, puckering as she blows on the hot liquid. I try not to stare but the shiny peach color to her plump lips is too enticing not to become captivated by. When she raises her eyes from her tea to meet mine, I don't look away. She blushes deeper but holds my gaze.

Lifting my fork in her direction, I grin. "Cheers."

She bites her lip and returns the gesture. "This looks amazing," she says, plunging her fork into the back of the cheesecake. As soon as she slides the cake into her mouth, her eyes roll and she eases back into her chair, moaning. I smirk, shift in my seat, and pop a hunk of chewy brownie into my mouth in one large bite. The caramel swirled into the chocolatey goodness have me matching her moan.

"Ohmygoodness," she mumbles in one long word, eyes rolling in the back of her head. "If the rest is as good as that," she points to the cheesecake, "I'm definitely not getting back into those jeans."

I bark out a laugh. I could comment on how sexy she is. Tell her she doesn't need to even consider losing an ounce of weight and make sure she knows that her ass is what dreams are made of and celebrities pay good money for, but I keep my mouth shut. For now.

I may not understand what compelled me to invite her out tonight, but I do understand that neither she nor I are looking for a relationship. She might be gorgeous and intriguing but she's also sad and not in a great place. And me, well, relationships and I aren't friends. But friendship with Chloe? Well, that I could get on board with. So I'll keep my opinions about her appearances to myself.

"Good, huh?" I say, digging in for my own bite of cheesecake.

"So good. And I don't even like cheesecake!" she laughs.

"Feeling better?"

"Not yet. I think I need to keep eating," she says, popping a brownie into her mouth.

As she's chewing The Cookie and apple fritters are brought over to our table. Chloe's eyes widen and light up as she takes in the cookie that looks like it's big enough to feed six people.

"Holy crap."

"Just wait." I rub my hands together and sit up in my chair. The Cookie is a giant chocolate chip warm cookie with chunks of Reese's peanut butter cups baked in. It's served in a small cast iron skillet topped with a scoop each of vanilla and peanut butter ice cream. And if that wasn't enough, chopped peanuts, more Reese's, and drizzles of hot fudge cover the deliciousness.

The rest of the desserts don't even matter as we pick up our spoons and dive in.

"You said you're a hair stylist?"

She nods as she chews, swallows and sips her tea. "Yup. My mom was, too."

"Oh yeah?"

"I basically grew up in a salon. Mom was a single parent and instead of having baby sitters or going to daycare when I wasn't in school, I spent my time at Mom's salon, watching women get their hair colored and cut. I'd draw and play with my dolls, Mom would set me up with my own chair and I'd pretend to be doing whatever she was doing."

"So you and your mom are close, huh?"

She takes another bite of cookie and the sadness I've seen in her eyes magnifies. "Yes, we were. She passed away, though."

"Oh shit." I scrub a hand down my face. "I'm sorry to hear that."

"Thank you. She fought hard but the cancer was too much for her body and eventually it took over."

Silence descends on the table. It's slightly awkward, neither of us knowing what to say next. I lift an apple fritter off the plate and dip it into the caramel sauce then eat it, staring at the food in front of me. I'm not good in situations like this. The few times I've been to funerals, I always say something damn near inappropriate.

I continue shoveling food into my mouth until I hear her soft laughter. "Rex, it's okay."

I jerk my head up. "Huh?"

"It's okay. I didn't mean to make things awkward, talking about my dead mother."

Chuckling, I set my fork down and wash down the sweets with a large drink of coffee. "It's not okay. I'm the worst when it comes to offering my sympathies and knowing what to say. I'm sorry seems so unoriginal but I have a hard time figuring out how to move forward from conversations."

Chloe leans forward in her seat, fiddles with the desserts she's placed portions of onto her place with the tines of her fork before setting it down. When her eyes meet mine, they don't hold the same sadness they did moments before. There's a hint of sparkle in the dark irises and it makes my chest expand. "I understand what you mean. It's difficult and sometimes uncomfortable. So here: My mom was wonderful. I miss her every single day and wish life had turned out differently for her, and me, I suppose, but that's not a way to live. In the past, I mean. So I appreciate talking about her every now and again. Remembering and thinking of her used to make me sad, and it still sometimes does, but usually it brings me happiness."

Sitting back, I take her in. I may not have known her mother, but looking at Chloe, listening to the strength she seems to hold, I have a feeling she's a spitting image of who her mother was.

"Tell me about this salon you want to open up."

And just like that, I've fucked up again. Her eyes fall to the table and shoulders slump.

"Chloe," I call out to get her attention and when I have it I continue, "just talk about it. Just because they said not now, that doesn't mean never. If it's your dream, don't stop going after it. And don't take no for an answer."

"It's just so disheartening," she says quietly.

I push The Cookie in her direction and nod my head toward it, hoping she dives in. I'm not disappointed in either her digging into the delicious dessert, or the small smile that curves her lips.

"Don't let it be. Use that feeling to push yourself. Make them give you a reason and do what you have to do to change things to make it happen."

"You make it sound so easy."

I shake my head. "It won't be."

She'd just shoveled a huge bite of cookie and ice cream into her mouth so she covers it when she starts giggling. "I like that," she says after her mouth is empty. "No sugar coating."

"I'm glad you like it. I tend to tell people like it is and some don't appreciate it."

"Why, though? Would people rather you lie to them? Blow smoke up their asses? That's just crazy."

I don't have a response other than smiling.

"Fine. You want to know all about it?"

"I do."

"Full service salon."

The corner of my mouth kicks up and I try to wipe the twitch in my lips away with my hand, lean back in my chair and cross my arms over my chest. "Like with a happy ending?"