Page 7 of Love, Second Chances and Other Nonsense
We make our way through the crowded restaurant toward the exit. I’m hyperaware of Adam’s hand resting lightly on the small of my back, guiding me between tables. The gesture is protective but not possessive, and I lean into his touch.
Just as we reach the door, my foot catches on the leg of a chair, and I pitch forward. For a terrifying moment, I’m certain I’m about to face-plant in front of everyone, not for the first time. But Adam’s arm shoots out, circling my waist and pulling me upright against his chest.
“Whoa there,” he says, his voice low near my ear. “I’ve got you.”
My face burns with embarrassment as several nearby diners look our way. “Sorry,” I mumble. “I told you. Walking disaster.”
Adam doesn’t let go right away. “Are you okay?”
“My dignity’s bruised, but I’m otherwise fine.” I straighten up, putting a little space between us even though part of me wants to stay right where I am, tucked against his solid chest.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, holding the door open for me.
His easy response makes me feel a little better.
The night air is cool as we step outside. Adam’s truck is parked a block away, and we walk in comfortable silence. I’m already mentally replaying every awkward thing I’ve said ordone tonight, building a case for why he won’t want to see me again.
The drive to my apartment is too short. Adam finds a parking spot right in front, and I wish I lived farther away.
“Thanks for dinner,” I say as we walk to my door. “I had a great time.”
“Me too.” Adam stands with his hands in his pockets, looking down at me with those dark eyes that make my stomach flip.
I fumble with my keys, certain this is where he’ll politely say goodnight and disappear from my life. “Well, goodnight then.”
“Caitlin.” His voice stops me as I turn toward my door.
“Yes?” I look back at him, keys clutched in my hand.
“I’d like to see you again.” He steps closer. “If you’re interested.”
“Really?” The word bursts out before I can stop it, way too loud and eager.
Adam chuckles, the sound warm in the quiet night. “Really. Maybe this weekend? There’s a trail I’d like to show you. If you’re free.”
“Yes!” I modulate my voice this time, but can’t keep the smile from spreading across my face. “I’m free. That sounds great.”
“Perfect.” He takes my hand, his fingers warm against mine. “I’ll text you tomorrow.”
Then he brings my hand to his lips and presses a soft kiss against my knuckles. It’s such an old-fashioned, unexpected gesture that I forget to breathe.
“Goodnight, Caitlin,” he says, releasing my hand slowly.
“Goodnight,” I whisper.
I watch him walk back to his truck, only turning to unlock my door when he gives a last wave before driving away. Once inside, I lean against the closed door, my hand still tingling where his lips touched my skin.
A giddy laugh escapes me, and I cover my mouth even though there’s no one to hear. Despite my nervous babbling, despite nearly falling on my face, he wants to see me again. The thought makes me feel lightheaded with happiness.
* * *
I check my phone for probably the hundredth time as I force myself to choke down the sandwich I’ve made for myself. Adam said he’d try to be home for breakfast, but it’s already past noon, and the empty chair across the table mocks me. He also hasn’t called or responded to any of my texts.
I’ve been replaying scenes from yesterday’s funeral in my head all morning, Adam’s arm around Millie’s waist, her head on his shoulder, her mascara-streaked face pressed against his chest. The memory makes my stomach twist in a way that has nothing to do with hunger.
The front door finally clicks open around two. I’ve long since given up on the sandwich and washed the dishes, and I’m sitting at the kitchen table with a lukewarm cup of tea, scrolling through job listings on my laptop.
“Hey,” Adam says, dropping his keys in the dish by the door. His voice sounds tired. “Sorry I’m late.”
