Chapter 29

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

NOVA

The last time I had gone on a first date, Carter had taken me to a seedy little dive bar in Queens where a buddy of his was playing a gig. He’d started law school when I was beginning my sophomore year of college at NYU—we had been introduced by my roommate’s older brother. At the time, I’d been so starry-eyed, I didn’t care how long it took to get to the bar because he was holding my hand, or how dirty the bar was because he’d bought my drink, or how terrible the music was because we weren’t really listening to the music anyway. I’d been so sunk for Carter, nothing else mattered.

Now, more than a decade later, the entire contents of my measly closet were strewn all over my bed, and nothing seemed good enough for an adult first date with a full-grown man who had his own house and career and opinions. The stakes for dating had risen exponentially in all the ways—my kids, my life, my baggage. His life and baggage. Just agreeing to this date was a step I hadn’t known I was ready for until it was presented to me. My kids hadn’t told me how they felt about Dusty yet, but I wanted to go out with him first and see how it felt before bringing it to them .

If I went on this date. I was pretty sure it wasn’t going to happen, because nothing in my closet sent the message more than friends . Everything pretty much just shouted I’m a tired mom!!!

I sat on a pile of various colored T-shirts and held my phone up to my mouth, where my sister-in-law was standing by on speakerphone to approve my clothing choice. “I didn’t bother bringing date clothes, Blair. I have nothing .”

“You aren’t really freaking out because of the clothes. You know that, right?” she asked, her voice filling the room. Kids were playing in the background and something was beeping—probably a microwave.

“Honestly, Noves,” Jason said way too loudly. I could imagine my brother leaning over his wife and shouting to be heard, which made a smile tug at my lips. “It doesn’t really sound like this guy will care what you’re wearing. Wear that Neon Trees shirt you won’t get rid of. Then you’ll at least be comfortable.”

“Terrible advice,” Blair said, her feet stomping across the room. “Don’t wear that shirt.”

I glanced down. I was wearing the shirt right now—it was the most comfortable thing I owned.

Also, how did my brother know anything about Dusty? “What have you told him?” I asked Blair.

“I don’t know enough to tell him anything.” Blair closed a door and it grew much quieter. “He called Gigi.”

“He what ?”

“I told him about the date yesterday when you called me, and he wanted to vet the guy.”

“Kind of a weird time for him to jump in as a protective brother. I’m an old lady and a mother. Does he seriously think some guy is going to take advantage of me? Or that Gigi, of all people, would let that happen?”

Blair was silent for a moment. “He cares about you. ”

Okay, fine. That excuse was fair.

“Honestly,” Blair continued, “Gigi made it sound like you could show up in a paper bag and the guy would be thrilled you showed up at all. He’s not desperate, is he?”

“No. She’s exaggerating. He’s a catch, which is why I don’t think this will go anywhere, B. I’m not holding my breath.”

“I’ll hold it for you.” She groaned, then moved the phone away and shouted. “Jason, just open the microwave so it stops beeping!” Then her voice returned to normal. “Okay, I’m back. Listen, there is wisdom to Jason’s advice. Dress comfortably, and definitely let him kiss you.”

My stomach somersaulted. Imagining Dusty’s arms around me sent my blood into hyperdrive.

“You aren’t an old lady,” Blair continued. “You’re young and hot, and you deserve someone who puts you first.”

Tears sprang to my eyes. Thank heavens we weren’t on FaceTime, because I didn’t want her to know how her words affected me. “He’s three years younger than me, B. Maybe more. I don’t actually know.”

“Does it really matter? The older we get, the smaller those gaps are anyway. Besides, from what I’ve heard, he’s twice the man Carter is, and your stupid ex has like six years on Dusty.”

Those were all valid points. “You know, Carter has been calling twice a day since Ben stopped wanting to speak to him, then yesterday he just stopped. I haven’t heard from him in over twenty-four hours, which is not the relief you’d think it is.”

“You think he’s going to quit talking to you altogether? Because that doesn’t sound like a bad thing.”

“The kids deserve to have their dad, even if I don’t like him.”

She made an irritated noise. “Stop being a saint and block him for good.”

“I’m not, and you know I can’t. First off, it’s the law. Second, what kind of person would I be if I got in the way of my kids having a relationship with their dad? ”

“Like I said, saint . Honestly, I’m over him. Can we keep talking about the fireman, please? I can’t believe I’m the one who has to say this to you,” she continued, “but being a mom isn’t a point against you, like you said it was. That man would be lucky to have Ben and Alice in his life.”

“I know.” I was unable to stop the tears now. “It’s not a reflection on them?—”

“It isn’t one on you, either. Have you forgotten how hot you are? There’s a reason you’ve got all these guys fighting over you.”

“No one is fighting?—”

“You mean the cop didn’t deck Dusty last weekend? Gigi told us about that, too.”

“She’s such a gossip.”

“We’re family. Gossip doesn’t count when it’s family.”

Not sure that was true, but okay.

“I need to finish making dinner,” Blair said. “Remember to layer your mascara. You want those suckers to be nice and thick. Send me a picture when you’re dressed.”

“I will.”

“Love you. Bye.”

“Love you.” I hung up and exhaled. Blair was an incredible one-person cheer team. Ten minutes on the phone, a few tears later, and I thought maybe I could do this after all. I knew Dusty wanted this date, that he wanted me. The hard part was accepting it. I’d spent ten years married to a guy who didn’t want me, not after he had me. It was a lot to unlearn.

And Dusty looked like he stepped off the April page of the shirtless firefighters calendar. It had taken gargantuan effort not to drop my jaw when I had entered the diner the other day to see his bare chest on exhibition. The man’s arms were probably thicker than my head. But he wasn’t the kind of bro who wore tight shirts to make sure his muscles were on everyone’s mind or displayed in their face. Not that I hadn’t noticed before, of course, but I was doing my best not to notice.

On full display like that, though, it was impossible not to.

He was picking me up in forty-five minutes, and I still wasn’t wearing pants. Time to suck it up and choose something.

A half-hour and six more outfits later, I settled on a black T-shirt with capped sleeves tucked into a swinging midi skirt and ankle boots. It wasn’t the fanciest thing in my closet, but the fundraiser didn’t sound like an elegant event. My outfit was safely in the middle ground. I’d applied six layers of mascara, per Blair’s instructions, and brushed my teeth.

Gigi had both of my kids, who didn’t even give me a backward glance when they took her hands and walked down the street, which had been more freeing than I anticipated. They were safe and happy and didn’t feel abandoned.

Which meant I could enjoy?—

Ding . The doorbell went off, making my heart hammer in my ears. I checked my breath with a shaky hand. Okay, calm down, Nova . Dusty wouldn’t be jumping me the moment I opened the door. If I decided to kiss him good night, that was hours away. Besides, he might not even want that, which would mean I was FREAKING OUT for no reason.

But could you blame me? I hadn’t had a first kiss in eleven years.

I swung the door open, a smile plastered on my face. Dusty stood there, backlit by the late afternoon sun. When his honey-colored eyes fell on me, comfort swooped through my body at once, driving away my anxiety and doubts. His smile was soft, spreading as he took me in. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you.” I picked up my purse and shrugged my jacket on, then followed him out to his truck. “Where are we eating?”

“Casa de la Hayes.”

“You cooked?” I asked, climbing into the front seat and buckling in. “I could have driven to you. ”

“Nah, it’s all good. I had to drop off some things at the high school, anyway.” His smile lingered on me, the silence in the car growing thick. He seemed to shake himself loose and pulled onto the road. “Did you have a good day?”

It was weird how easy our conversation was, like we’d known each other for years. I sank into my seat, comfortable with him, and we talked about the park I’d found that morning with the kids.

When he pulled onto the road that led out of town, I watched the cars passing us.

“Have you gone running yet?” he asked.

“No, but I might try this week. It’s warm enough now I don’t think I’ll freeze before I hit the end of the block.” I shot him a sheepish smile. “You’re right. It wouldn’t hurt to do something for me.”

“You can borrow gloves, if you need them.”

“Maybe.” We waited at a stoplight, and I looked in the car turning onto our road. My stomach lurched at the familiarity of the man in the silver sedan—dark blond hair and a sharp jawline. It couldn’t be Carter. There was no way. I lifted from my seat, craning over Dusty to get a better look as the car drove by, but that didn’t make me feel any calmer. Even from the back, it had looked like my ex.

That was crazy. Carter wouldn’t even take off enough time from work to take the kids to Disney World. There was no way he’d just show up here, after we were divorced, with nothing to gain. That wasn’t in his nature.

“What’s wrong?” Dusty asked.

For a split second, I debated telling him but thought better of it. It wouldn’t do either of us any good if I mentioned Carter. Dusty and I deserved an ex-free evening. Besides, it couldn’t have been him. Carter would never drive what he deemed a boring sedan, not even a rental.

“Thought I saw a ghost,” I said, flashing him a smile .

When we pulled up to his farmhouse, it was definite love at first sight. A water tower was visible in the distance, but between that and Dusty’s two-story farmhouse with its wraparound porch was a barn and fields of open space. Those feelings I’d had at the Homestead during June’s bridal shower came back in full force, like I could picture a happy life here. It scared and strengthened me at the same time, the idea that I could find happiness. Things could be even better here if I let them.

“Most of this isn’t our land,” Dusty said, like he needed to disabuse me of the idea that he was some farmer baron. “But we have an acre.”

His use of the word we made my heart flutter, knowing he considered it his family house still. “How is your grandpa doing?”

“He’s in and out,” Dusty said. “Wait, don’t move.” He jumped down from the truck and ran around to open my door.

I tried not to love it, but I really, really did.

We walked up to the porch and he took me around it to the back. A table was set up on the deck with a view of the sunset. Lights were strung from the deck to the nearby trees, throwing soft light over us. Pink clouds snaked across the sky in puffy tufts, mixing with pale blue and looking like cotton candy. I wanted to take a mental snapshot of this scene and keep it forever.

A high-pitched buzzing sound came from the grass and Dusty looked at me. “Cicadas.”

“Sounds evil.”

“They look evil, for sure, but they’re harmless. You’ll probably get used to them.”

“Wait…now I need to see one.”

Dusty pointed to where a brown shell of a bug was stuck to the rail of his porch. “That’s a husk. The live ones are a little better.”

I shuddered. “Gross.” Maybe that’s what I should change Carter’s picture to. It looked like a bug straight from the devil’s garden.

I expected things to be a little awkward between us as we got settled, that period where you try to find a rhythm with someone else, but everything seemed to flow easily. Dusty went inside and brought out plates of roast with carrots and potatoes, sliced bread, and salad. We dished up plates on the patio furniture and ate under the awning, watching the sunset change the sky and talking about everything from what shows we watched to our favorite things to cook.

Dusty glanced at me sideways. “Is it awful that I kind of want to stay here tonight?”

I held his gaze. “No.” I wanted to stay here forever, so I understood.

My phone started ringing. I looked to make sure it wasn’t Gigi. When I saw Carter’s picture, I silenced it.

The moment was broken. “We should head to the school. Your cookies look great, by the way. I might have checked them out when I was setting up. How did you know football moms would pay a lot of money for jerseys and footballs?”

“I like a good theme.” I shrugged. My phone started ringing again, but I clicked the button to silence it. There was no way on this green earth I would answer Carter’s call while on a date. I stood up, crossing my chilly arms over my chest and moving to the railing to look out over the view. “This is incredible.”

“I like it,” he said easily, coming to stand at my side. Dusty hesitated before reaching over and taking my hand. I let him hold it. I wanted to stop resisting him. Blair’s voice was in my head: definitely let him kiss you . Gigi had given her approval. My kids liked him.

What was getting in my way? Myself, obviously.

“You okay?” he asked.

“It’s been a long time since I’ve been on a first date.”

Dusty scoffed, his arms wrapping around me. His chin rested lightly on the top of my head while we looked at the disappearing sun. “This isn’t our first date, Nova. We did that ages ago. Furniture moving, lasagna, tornado night. I count all of those.”

“When you say it like that, then really we’re on like date four.”

“Something around there.”

My phone buzzed again, but I ignored it. Leaning back, I looked at Dusty. His thumb brushed along my jaw, then beneath my bottom lip, his eyes following the motion. He released a breath and swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “I really don’t want to mess this up.”

“So far, so good,” I told him.

A grin split his mouth into the widest smile. I couldn’t help returning it. Dusty pulled me closer, wrapping his hands over my back. He pressed a feather light kiss to my temple, then another one on my cheekbone. He moved lower with each kiss, taking his time, until he reached the corner of my lips.

Dusty paused, like he was waiting for permission to continue.

I was frozen still, my body shaking with anticipation and need. I wanted him to finish, to close the distance and take away my concerns. I wanted to feel nothing but Dusty.

His lips hovered over mine. It didn’t take a degree in rocket science to realize he would not be the one to close the distance. He had given that to me, a brightly wrapped gift, his awareness of my need to keep things slow between us. If I wasn’t ready, he wouldn’t force it.

I was ready.

“Nova,” he said, after I didn’t move.

My heart thrummed, my pulse beating so loudly I could hear it in my ears. Just one moment more, and I would have been brave enough.

He didn’t release me. “We should be going. ”

“Okay.” My voice was dry and scratchy—too much mouth breathing going on—and I swallowed. Disappointment cut through me. I wanted to rewind the clock and just do it. Just take the step. My skin burned where his lips had dragged a trail along the side of my face. But he was right. He needed to get to the school. “Can I use your bathroom first?”

Dusty hesitated, then smiled. “Of course.”

He showed me inside while he put the food away, and I admired the interior. It was simple and outdated, but comfortable and worn, like the sofa in the living room had been there and loved for his entire life.

When I met him back in the kitchen, I looked at the empty space in front of the bay windows and blinked.

Dusty shot me a sheepish smile. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” I followed him out, but my brain wouldn’t make the connections that seemed to be obvious.

It wasn’t until we had reached the main road that it hit me: Dusty had no kitchen table.

Because it was in my apartment.