Chapter 18

Chapter Eighteen

C aroline did her best to keep up with Dawson. He knew how to kiss a woman to make her feel adored and cherished, like he'd do anything just to make sure he could kiss her again later.

She hadn't been kissed like this before. Not ever. Not even with her husband. Never, ever, ever. The level of care he could broadcast, the way he seemed to want her but also respect her was a whole new thing for her.

When he finally pulled back, Caroline's chest heaved. She kept her eyes closed, and she had no idea where the words came from as she asked, "Well? Was that like kissing your sister?"

"Absolutely not," he said huskily. "In fact, I'm going to do it again." He claimed her lips again, but only for a couple strokes. Then he moved that magical mouth of his to her cheek, her ear, and down her neck. "There's a whole lot of something here, darlin'."

"Yes," she said, her voice mostly made of air. "I think so too."

He pulled back and straightened. Caroline managed to open her eyes and look at him. No shyness or embarrassment pulled through her, and Dawson gazed back at her just as seriously. "Sorry, I suppose I should've waited until after the date. You just…I've wanted to go out with you for a while is all."

"It's absolutely fine," she said, straightening her sweater and shouldering her purse again. She ran her fingers up the buttons on his shirt, a cute orange, white, and blue checkered pattern. "I really like this shirt."

One of his hands tightened on her waist. "Are you just sayin' that?"

"Why would I just say that?" She flipped up one corner of his collar and then smoothed it flat again. "You look amazing. It goes with your hair, and sort of…brightens your personality." She smiled at him, but his lips didn't tip at all.

"I need my personality brightened?"

"No," she said. "That's not what I meant."

"Well, what did you mean?"

"I just meant that you look good in it," she said. "You wear it well. It fits you."

"It is my size," he said dryly. He put pressure on her lower back, just enough to get her to exit the house .

"That's not what I meant either," she said. "It fits you , like who you are."

"How so?"

She watched her step as she went down the stairs, because she wore a long dress and a pair of sandals she didn't normally strap her feet into. "Because you have all these different facets of yourself, you know? You're the favorite uncle, and you've got crows for pets, and you make lists, but you're also sort of this rough-and-tumble, not-afraid-to-get-his-hands-dirty kind of cowboy too. So the shirt isn't something I'd pick for you, but it fits, because you have a lot of different parts of yourself that make you, you."

Dawson started to laugh, and Caroline smiled at the throaty sound of it, almost like it was rusty and he didn't do such a thing very often. "That was a lot of words, sweetheart."

He opened her door, and she paused and turned to look at him. "I like the shirt, Dawson," she said. "I like that you kissed me without even saying hello. I like?—"

"I said hello."

She grinned at him and leaned her palm into his chest. "You did not. You said I was beautiful, and then you kissed me."

"Well, hello then," he said, grinning.

And there was that smile. She'd asked him for it, but this wasn't a forced gesture. He really did seem happy to see her. "Hello," she murmured back, her gaze dropping to his mouth, almost as if she'd miss her mark if she wasn't looking right at it.

She kissed him, so glad that physical barrier had been broken. But he didn't let her carry on too long. "I have something real special for you," he said, his lips barely brushing hers. "So get in, okay? I don't want to be late."

"You do not like being late," she said, safe and warm within the radius of his body heat.

"I do not."

"Are you gonna tell me more about why that is?" She backed up and caught the hint of surprise in his eyes before she turned to get in the truck. He said nothing as she smoothed her skirt under her legs, and he closed the door.

Caroline's heart pounded, but she wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe from the way Dawson muttered to himself as he rounded the hood, or maybe from the way he glared at the sky like it had done him a personal wrong as he turned toward his door.

"You don't have to," she said the moment he opened his door. "It's—you mentioned that there's a reason why you like lists so much and don't like being late, and that you'd tell me about it sometime. But it doesn't have to be tonight."

"Okay," he said.

"Okay." She breathed easier and looked straight ahead as he adjusted the air. "So what's this special thing?"

"It's not a what ," he said as he backed out of her driveway. "It's a where , and it's a surprise." He looked left and then right, his gaze holding on her before making the turn off her street. "If you don't know about it, which would be kind of wild."

"What is it?"

"How can I tell you if it's a surprise?" He made the turn, and he sounded a tad disgruntled. "I think you'll like it, and if you've been there before, fine. If you haven't, then I think you'll like their menu."

"So it's a restaurant."

"I just told you it was a place," he said.

"You said it was a where," she said. "Not a restaurant."

"Okay, fine," he said. "It's a restaurant, and I'm pretty sure I have the menu memorized at this point." He sounded like he'd rather swallow broken glass than keep talking to her, and Caroline pressed her palms together.

Dawson gripped the steering wheel tightly—so tightly his knuckles had started to turn pale. Her pulse felt just as stretched, taut, and she wanted to snap at him. Revert to her default and demand he take her home if he couldn't be in a good mood.

At the same time, she'd just told him about all these different facets of himself and how she liked them, and his grouchy persona was one of those.

"Hey." Caroline reached over and curled her hand around his closest one. It took a moment for him to relinquish his hold on the wheel, and she ran her fingers over his. She moved her other hand to do the same, and he finally relaxed under her touch. "I didn't mean to upset you."

"I'm so dang nervous," he growled. "It's not you." He took a breath that expanded his wide chest, and Caroline smiled to herself.

"Why are you nervous?"

"Because I'm always nervous when I do things outside my routine."

So he was routine, didn't like to be late, and made extensive to-do lists. Caroline took a peek at him, this gentle giant of a cowboy driving her somewhere he'd obsessed over. Had the menu memorized.

"What's inside your routine?" she asked. "What do you like to do?"

"I like running," he said.

She giggled, which drew his attention from the road. Finally. "No one really likes running, do they?"

"Don't they?" He finally dropped his left hand to the bottom of the steering wheel instead of strangling it. "I do. It helps me pound out my frustrations and align my head for the day."

"So you get up early to do this. "

"Yes," he said. "Five o'clock."

"It's almost past your bedtime now," she teased. "This place we're going better be fast." She smiled at him, relieved and a bit proud of herself when she got his grin in return.

"I don't care how late we are," he said. "It's our first date, so time doesn't matter."

As if Caroline hadn't already been swooning over Dawson. Time doesn't matter.

She knew it did, as she'd wasted so much time on Joe. So much time trying to make things work between them. So much time trying to get herself back again.

But with Dawson, time didn't matter right now. The night was young, and he'd sacrifice whatever he had to in order to be with her. That was what he was really saying, and Caroline turned to her window to check and see if the heat she felt in her cheeks had turned them red.

She couldn't really tell, and a minute later, he said, "Here we are."

Caroline looked out the windshield and caught sight of a sign that read Spudalicious. Pure happiness burst through her in pops and sparks. "Spudalicious?"

"They have more than potatoes," he said. "But I thought you'd find something here you like." He gave her another smile, this one a little hesitant, and then got out to come get her door. She stared at the sign as he came around, noting it wasn't only for Spudalicious. At least a dozen names sat on it, not all of them restaurants .

The building in front of them stretched up for at least a dozen stories, and Caroline peered up to the top of it as Dawson opened her door.

"It's on the roof," he said. "But they have heaters for outdoor seating, or we can request a table inside." The sun had started to settle into dusk, and Caroline shivered in her sweater. Maybe that was from the flesh memory of Dawson's warm hands skimming her skin as he helped her into the garment.

Or the idea of a restaurant with only potatoes on the menu. Or the fact that Dawson had arranged their first date at a rooftop, potatoes-only restaurant, because she'd like it.

He'd thought about her ahead of time. So far, this man ticked every box Caroline had, and she tucked her hand in his and went with him down the sidewalks and up to the building.

Heat blew inside, and they crowded onto the elevator with several others going up to the rooftop restaurants. "How did you know this place existed?" she asked as they all got spit out into the lobby and had to face their dining choices.

Six different restaurants took up the top floor, from Spudalicious to a pizzeria, to a smoothie shop that wasn't open right now. Dawson led her toward the bright brown fa?ade of the potato place, and she expected bright, spuddy music to come pouring out.

Caroline wasn't far off, but the song wasn't as beachy and festive as she'd imagined. This place definitely boasted a bright atmosphere, with white lights and cartoon potatoes in a variety of shapes, sizes, and ages decorating the welcome wall.

Dawson moved past the others sitting or standing to give his name to a hostess, and she consulted the tablet in front of her. Caroline felt like a movie star on his arm, every cell in her body glowing with an unnamed energy.

The hostess picked up two menus with leather covers, handed them to someone, and said, "Diamond, two-twelve."

The other woman took the menus and smiled heartily at Dawson. "This way, sir."

"Thank you," he said diplomatically, and he nodded to the hostess before he went with the other woman. Caroline almost stumbled after him, as she'd been expecting to be told they'd have to wait a half-hour before they could be seated. After all, there were at least a dozen people waiting for tables, and everywhere she looked, she saw patrons already eating.

Baked potatoes. Potato chowder. French fries. Latkes. Hash browns—and Caroline's heart tumbled to her toes and rocketed back into its rightful place in her chest.

"Those look amazing," she said, her eyes glued to someone's crispy, browned, hash browns on their plate. Her mouth watered, and she'd never been so glad to be hungry in her life. "Dawson, did you see those? "

"I see ‘em, darlin'," he said, still tugging her along through the maze of tables and chairs. The woman in front of him led him to a short flight of three steps, and up they went. She opened a glass door and led them past one, two, three empty tables.

"Would you like the window open and the heater on?" she asked as she indicated the last table on this narrow strip that was elevated above the rest. "It's the best atmosphere, and we can always close the window if you're too cold." She smiled at Caroline, who looked at Dawson.

"Window down or up?" he asked.

"Down," Caroline said. "Please." She turned to see the floor-to-ceiling windows did have a pane that could be lowered to let in fresh air. Her heartbeat settled like a deep bass drum in her soul when she saw the view. "Dawson," she breathed out. "Look at this."

"Menus here," the woman said. "I'll get your window down and your heater on, and Candice will be your waitress tonight." She left while Dawson came to Caroline's side, the two of them admiring the gorgeous view of Three Rivers and then the wilderness beyond.

"See that street lamp at almost eleven o'clock?" he asked. "A bit out there. Past that strip of lights on the right."

Caroline searched in the near distance, finding the strip of lights and then moving further south. "Yeah," she said when she found it .

"That's the turn to Seven Sons Ranch," he said. "Hidden Hills is another twenty minutes past that."

"Can we see my house from here?" she asked, suddenly scanning the pricks of light in the town. "I need a picture of this. It's incredible." She whipped out her phone and took a few shots of the town while Dawson told her that her house sat to the west, and no, they couldn't see it.

"If we eat at Cagney's," he said. "The Teppanyaki place next door, we probably can." He took his seat at the table, and Caroline joined him on the adjacent side. The square table had been situated so that the point of it reached the wall, with a slanted seat along each side. No chairs waited for a party of four, as this was obviously a booth for two people to sit side-by-side and enjoy the view of Three Rivers.

"Dawson," she gushed as she joined him. "This is so amazing. I love this so much." She'd never felt so sparkly and full of light.

"Wait'll you see the menu," he said as he lifted up the slim volume and handed it to her. Anticipation and excitement threaded through her, mirroring the way she'd felt during the drive up to his house a few weeks ago for their proper New Year's Day breakfast together.

She flipped open the menu, hardly daring to hope for all the potatoey things she loved best. The first word at the top of the menu had cartoon potatoes dancing all over it, with the two As made entirely out of a potato with a carved oval in it for the hole in the letter.

brEAKFAST.

The best word in the English language.

Caroline looked over to Dawson, who'd buried himself in the menu he claimed to have memorized. "This is the best date I've ever been on," she blurted out, causing Dawson to lower his menu.

"Yeah?" he asked. "We haven't even ordered yet. Maybe it'll be gross."

Caroline almost felt like crying she was so excited. She set down her menu and held his gaze. "Thank you for bringing me here. Will you order for me?"

He swallowed but said, "Yeah, of course," as if he'd been planning to order her food for her tonight all along. Glad she didn't have to decide, Caroline sighed happily and looked out the window again. It had been lowered, and a distinct hint of heat came in from an appliance she couldn't see.

Yes, this was the best date ever, and she decided it didn't matter if the food was good or not. Dawson had thought of her and planned something for her , and that was worth more than the taste of a really great plate of perfectly crispy hash browns.

Oh, yes, it absolutely was.