25. Ronan

Ronan

"I really wish you'd tell me where we're going," Willow says for the third time as I drive us to our date location. Just like the first two times, I just smile.

"Where's the fun in that?" I squeeze her thigh lightly with my hand that's been resting there since we left her apartment. The scorching-hot blue dress she's wearing skims her body like it was made just for her, with a plunging V-neckline that shows off her breasts in a way that instantly had me hard. "You look stunning, Cherry."

"You said that already," she teases, lifting my hand from her leg to kiss my fingers before placing it back, only slightly higher this time.

"The truth is always worth repeating."

Her light laughter fills the space between us, and it's a carefree, happy sound reminiscent of our time in Hawaii. This is the Willow I've missed for months.

We turn off the highway and start to climb up the side of Burnaby Mountain. Willow turns in her seat to face me as soon as we do. "Are you taking me to The Lookout?" Her excitement is clear, and I flash her a grin as an answer. "Oh my God, Ronan! Did you know this is my favourite restaurant? But it's so hard to get into, how did you get a reservation so quickly?"

I pause for a second before answering. I've never been the type to flash my celebrity status or use it to get things, but I sure as shit did to make tonight happen. The question is, how will she feel about that? Willow's never seemed blinded by my status, never shown any interest or care whatsoever about the ridiculous salary I get paid to play a game, even though I'm certain she's aware.

"I made a call. I don't want you to think I do that a lot because I don't. But I heard you telling one of the trainers about this place when he was looking for somewhere to propose to his girlfriend, and you said it was your favourite restaurant. I wanted tonight to be special," I finish lamely, gripping the steering wheel tightly with my one hand.

"Ronan," she starts softly, taking my other hand in hers again. "That was almost two months ago that I told Henry about The Lookout."

All I can do is nod.

"You remembered that? All this time?"

"I remember everything about you. Everything you've said, all the things that have made you happy or sad."

Out of the corner of my eye, I see her rest her head back on the seat. And she's still holding my hand.

"You're kind of amazing, Ronan Sinclair."

Thank fuck, we've reached the parking lot. I quickly pull into a spot, turn off the car, and turn to face her fully. "You deserve amazing, Willow. I just want to be the lucky fucker who helps you believe that."

The play of emotions across her face is something to watch.

"You're something else, you know that?"

My mouth quirks a grin at her enigmatic statement, said with wonder in her voice. "A good something, I hope."

In response, she leans over and kisses me softly. "It would seem that way."

As much as I want to stay here and kiss her for hours, this isn't the romantic setting I've got planned. We're still in my SUV with Peyton's car seat in the back, along with various toys and an unmentionable amount of goldfish cracker crumbs. I tell her as much, earning a light giggle and a caress of my cheek with her soft hand.

"Your dedication to your daughter is not something to be embarrassed of. Not with me."

I stare at her, completely transfixed by the incredible woman in front of me. "How do you know just what to say, every time?"

Willow just shakes her head slowly. "I don't, trust me. I just know how I feel. How you make me feel. And I'm done trying to fight that."

This time, my smile is big. Huge. "And there you go, you just did it again." Leaning in, I press one more kiss to her luscious red lips before getting out of the car and going around to open her door. She takes my outstretched hand as she climbs out and lets me pull her straight into my embrace. "Tonight is for you, Cherry."

She looks up at me with pure happiness etched across her face. "For us."

I can't resist kissing her after that, even though we're now several minutes late for our reservation. Then again, I rented the entire rooftop patio, so they can fucking well wait.

When the ma?tre d" himself escorts us to the table set at the edge of the patio, overlooking the twinkling lights of Vancouver and the neighbouring towns, Willow's gasp is audible.

"Ronan," she murmurs, squeezing my arm tightly. "This is incredible."

I reluctantly drop her arm to pull out her chair, and when she sits down, I bend over to kiss her bare skin. Thanks to strategically placed heat lamps, there's not even a hint of a chill in the springtime air. The weather gods are cooperating, with this, thankfully, dry May evening. Plan B was a private room inside, but I knew Willow would enjoy this more. Thanks again to fate, I suppose, for all of my plans working out this time around.

"Told you, you deserve incredible." I sit down across from her, and she reaches for my hand, lacing our fingers together on top of the white tablecloth.

"Thank you."

Two simple words spoken with so much genuine emotion, I get a little choked up. I can see a future with Willow, a future that's becoming clearer and clearer with every passing moment I spend with her. A future that includes fancy dates like this to spoil her, and casual ones that are more my speed. Days with Peyton at the park, nights spent in bed. It's crazy to be feeling all of this so fast, but then again, it's been months of watching Willow, wanting her from afar, falling for her with every smile, every gesture.

A waiter materializes out of nowhere with a tray carrying two drinks and a little glass dish. When he sets the items down on the table, delighted laughter bursts out of Willow.

"Is that…" She gestures to the two cocktails and the dish of extra maraschino cherries.

"The drink from our dinner in Hawaii? Yes. I called the hotel bar and begged for the recipe so they could recreate it for us tonight."

Willow's shaking her head, but she's smiling. "Wow. No one has ever done this kind of stuff for me." Her eyes widen like she can't believe she just admitted that and I squeeze her hand to show her I understand.

"Good. I like knowing I'm the first man to give you what you deserve." My voice is husky with the unsaid second part of that statement — that I want to be the only man to give her what she deserves. First, last, only.

But even I know it's too soon to put voice to that. It's been too many months of wanting this woman from a distance, and now that I have her, there's a lot we have to work out. Her fears about how our relationship might be perceived, and of course, I've got Peyton to think about in all this. Even though, I'm pretty confident my daughter is as taken with Willow as I am.

I lift my glass and Willow does the same, clinking them together. "To our first date in the real world."

We take a sip, our gazes locked. Then Willow lifts the cherry from her glass and pops it in her mouth. I watch, amused and more than a little turned on, as her tongue moves around in her mouth. Then she opens up to show her tongue holding the tied stem. She lifts it off and holds it up. Her lips curve up. "To first dates."

Dinner is perfect. I can tell Willow is enchanted by everything I planned. All the time I spent listening, observing, and casual questions asked of those who know her better than I do has made it possible for me to orchestrate an evening full of her favourite things. From the wine — courtesy of a winery on Vancouver Island near where her best friend now lives that she told one of the HR guys about — to the meal — a lobster ravioli I overheard her raving about to Lark. That's the thing with my woman. She wants everyone to be happy and enjoy life. She doesn't hold back from sharing the things that make her happy, and it's all in an effort to make everyone else happy, too.

She gives and gives to everyone around her without ever expecting anything in return. She gives away her yellow Skittles because she doesn't like lemon, but I've noticed how she also sneaks in a couple other colours. Purple for Lark, red for Monty. I asked him about it, and he just shrugged and said red was his favourite flavour.

Willow doesn't hesitate to give if she thinks it will bring joy.

And all I want to do is give that to her.

After our dessert plates are cleared, I push back from the table and stand, extending my hand to Willow. "Come with me?"

She takes my hand and stands wordlessly, letting me lead her over to a secluded corner of the patio, where there's a bush with small white flowers bursting all over, letting off an intoxicating scent.

"Jasmine," Willow whispers, fingering the small white flowers. "Reminds me of Hawaii."

I can't answer, can't formulate words as I just look at her, the moonlight behind her and the warm light from the restaurant making her glow.

"Thank you. This whole evening has been spectacular." She rests her hands on my shoulders and I bend down to kiss her upturned lips. But then she pulls back, and something shifts.

"Ronan, I…" she starts, then stops, looking off to the side at the city laid out in lights below us. "I'm sorry we can't just be together like a normal couple. Maybe someday, once I have the promotion. You're such an incredible man, and I just hope you don't feel like I'm ungrateful by not wanting us to be public."

I gather her into my arms. "Willow, babe, no. Not at all. I know you've worked hard to get where you are, and I would never want to jeopardize that. Do I wish we could be together in public? Of course, I do. But I swear, I respect your need to keep things secret for now."

I'm saying the words, and I mean them. I really do. Yet, as I pull her back in for another kiss, a voice inside of me is warning that secrets don't exactly mix well with relationships.

Which means it's a matter of time before something breaks. I just hope it isn't us.