Chapter Six

Steven

I've never been this nervous about a date in my life and that's saying something. I've taken women out before, I've been married before, hell, I've been through enough to know how these things go. But this? This is different. This is Joy.

I glance over at her, sitting there in the passenger seat, looking out the window with this little smile on her face. She's got no idea where I'm taking her and I can tell she's trying to figure it out, her eyes flicking to every sign we pass. I've got to hand it to her—she's being patient, not grilling me with questions like most people would.

I don't know if it's the anticipation or just being around her, but I've got this knot in my stomach that won't go away. It's not a bad feeling, though. It's more like excitement, mixed with nerves. Like I'm about to do something huge, something that's going to change everything. And, honestly, it is. There's no turning back after this.

We pass the outskirts of Cherrywood and I don't slow down. She notices, of course.

"We're going pretty far, huh?" she says, glancing over at me with a playful smile.

"Yup," I reply, keeping my eyes on the road. "Told you it's a surprise."

I've got a good reason for taking her two towns over. I can't risk anyone from Cherrywood seeing us. Word would get back to Theo before I have a chance to sit down with him, man-to-man, and let him know what's going on. That's the last thing I need—people gossiping about me and his daughter while he's still on a plane with Erica. Theo's my best friend, but I know how protective he is of Joy. This isn't something I can just spring on him.

Joy's different. This isn't just a fling, some casual thing I can brush off. I've got real intentions here and I'm not about to let people in town make up their own stories before I've had the chance to explain myself.

I grip the steering wheel a little tighter, my mind racing through what I'm going to say to Theo when the time comes. There's no way around it—it's going to be a tough conversation. I mean, I'm dating his daughter, for Christ's sake. But I know how I feel about her. It's not something I can walk away from, no matter how hard it might get.

"So, you're really not giving me any clues?" Joy asks, breaking the silence again.

I smirk, shaking my head. "Nope. You'll just have to wait and see."

She pouts a little, crossing her arms over her chest, but I can see the excitement in her eyes. "You're lucky I trust you."

My heart tightens at that. She does trust me and that's a big deal. She's putting herself out there, knowing this whole thing with us isn't simple. But she's willing to go along with it, just like I am. That's how I know we're on the same page.

I reach over and squeeze her hand, my thumb brushing over her skin. "I'm lucky for a lot of reasons," I say, glancing at her with a grin. She rolls her eyes, but her cheeks turn a little pink. I love how easily she blushes around me.

We drive in comfortable silence for a bit and I start to relax. The farther we get from Cherrywood, the better I feel about tonight. There's something freeing about being out of town, away from the watchful eyes of people who think they know everything about you. Out here, it's just me and Joy. No judgment, no whispers. Just us.

I've got a place in mind for dinner—somewhere quiet, off the beaten path. A small Italian restaurant I used to go to years ago, when I was still figuring things out after the divorce. It's the kind of place where nobody knows your name and that's exactly what we need tonight. I want to focus on Joy, not worrying about who might be watching us from across the room.

After a few more turns, we finally pull up to the restaurant. It's this old brick building with vines crawling up the sides, cozy and dimly lit from the outside. There's a small parking lot around back, hidden from the main road, and that's where I pull in. Perfect.

Joy raises an eyebrow as I park the truck. "This is cute."

I grin, hopping out and walking around to open her door. "Wait till you see inside."

I help her down from the truck and for a second, her body brushes against mine, sending that familiar spark shooting through me. She smiles and I can tell she feels it too. God, this woman.

We walk into the restaurant and I'm relieved to see it's as quiet as I hoped. There are only a few other couples scattered around and none of them give us a second glance.

The hostess leads us to a small booth in the back, away from the rest of the diners. It's perfect—intimate and private, just what we need tonight. I help Joy slide into her seat and she gives me this soft smile that makes my chest ache. I sit across from her and for a moment, neither of us says anything. We're just here, together, and it feels right.

I can't help but think about how far we've come to get to this point. Two years. Two long years of wanting her, of pushing those feelings down because I thought it wasn't right, or it wasn't fair to her. But sitting here now, looking at her, I know it was worth the wait. Every second of it.

"So," she says, breaking the silence, "are you finally going to tell me why you picked this place?"

I chuckle, shaking my head. "It's a bit of a secret spot for me. Used to come here when I needed to clear my head, back after the divorce."

Her eyes soften and she leans forward slightly. "And you're bringing me here?"

"Yeah," I say, my voice quieter now. "I wanted to bring you somewhere that means something to me. Somewhere that isn't about anyone else but us."

She's quiet for a moment, just looking at me and I can see her processing what I've said. I want her to understand that this is different for me. That she's not just another woman I'm taking out for a good time. This is real. It's serious.

The waiter comes over and we order wine and pasta, keeping things simple. The conversation flows easily between us, like it always does. We talk about everything—school, work, random little things that make us laugh. But there's this underlying tension, this electric current that runs between us, reminding me that this isn't just any dinner. This is the start of something bigger.

We finish our meal and I pay the bill, feeling a little lighter now that the hardest part—the waiting—is over. I help Joy back into the truck and as we pull out of the parking lot, I catch her looking at me out of the corner of my eye. She's smiling, that soft, knowing smile that tells me she's just as into this as I am.

"Thank you for tonight," she says quietly, her voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.

I glance at her, my chest tightening again. "Thank you for trusting me."

We drive back toward Cherrywood and I feel the weight of the night settling in. There's still so much to figure out, so much I need to say to Theo. But right now, with Joy sitting next to me, the future doesn't feel so daunting. We'll get through it, one step at a time. And as I look over at her, I know one thing for certain.

I'm never letting Joy Marcer go.