Grace (BWWM)

Chapter Twenty-One

"Thank you for taking me out tonight," I say as Joe pushes my chair in.

"And thank you for coming. Is that alright?"

"Yes, thank you," I say, and he circles to his seat. We're in a fancy restaurant downtown and I'm wearing a light-yellow dress. Joe has on dress pants and his usual button-down shirt. He had picked me up tonight and I was excited. It's been a few days since we talked about starting a relationship, and I've been looking forward to our date.

It's been a while and I've forgotten how nice it can be to just take time out and do something special with someone you love.

Every now and then, I catch Joe looking at me as I try to decide on my selections from the menu.

"Yes?"

"You look beautiful," he responds, and I smile.

"Thank you. I thought you might like this dress," I say, and his eyebrows raise.

"Did you pick it because of me?"

I shrug, turning back to the menu. "I just knew you liked the color, and I know that this color looks well on me," I say, and he chuckles.

"You're stubborn, Grace. You can just say yes."

"Or I can also say no."

He laughs some more, and my mouth turns up. I did in fact choose this because I knew that he would like it, but he doesn't need to know that.

"Alright, well I wore this button-down for you. I know how much you like it on me," he teases, and I look away from the menu to give him a look. He winks, grinning.

"You always wear those."

"Just because you like it so much."

I roll my eyes at his words, smiling.

"You can't tell me that you don't like it."

"I don't need to tell you anything."

"Classic Gracie." He chuckles again, and I just love the sound of it. It's deep, warm, and inviting. I gaze at him over my menu, and his eyes hold mine. A smile rests on his face as he scoots closer to the table and then reaches over. I reach over as well, placing my hand in his. His thumb gently strokes the back of it, and I just melt.

"How's your day been?" he asks softly amidst the soft chatter from other couples and diners and the clinking of silverware against dishes.

"Well," I say, "I didn't work, so I was just trying to keep busy until tonight."

"Yeah? Were you looking forward to tonight?"

"Yes," I admit.

"So was I. I wanted to see you and take you out," he says unabashedly. He's honest with how he feels. I like that.

"And how was your day?"

"Good, just slow at times. When you have something to look forward to, it seems like time goes by slower." I nod. Our eyes stay fixed on one another's, and his thumb keeps moving, pulling something out of me.

"I love you," I blurt out, and his eyebrows raise but he smiles.

"Look at you being honest, Gracie. That's nice. I love you too, and I want to make up for lost time with you . . . would you like that?" I nod even without knowing what that fully entails. "Alright then. Maybe we should get back to this menu before the server comes," he says, and he begins to remove his hand from mine, but I catch it before he can let go completely.

He's silent as he looks back at me, and his gaze intensifies. He takes hold of my hand again, but this time intertwines our fingers.

Our hands stay that way for the entire dinner, and he doesn't ask or say anything about it. I'm glad, because I don't have an explanation, I just like his touch.

For once, we don't really talk; there was a wonderful, comfortable silence as we ate. Thankfully, he brought me to a place that wasn't ridiculously expensive for no good reason, so the food was flavorful and enjoyable. And the overall atmosphere, although formal, was still comfortable.

At the end, the waiter brings the check and Joe doesn't hesitate to pull out his card and pay for the both of us. That has me smiling. It's not that I can't pay for myself, he knows that, it's that he's stepping up to do so.

I push back my chair to stand but he quickly rises.

"Hold on," he says, coming around the table and pulling it back the rest of the way, even offering me a hand as I stand.

"You spoil me, Joe," I say.

"I have even more reason to do that now, Grace," he says, and I recall our conversation that one day I went to work and came back to see him and the kids fast asleep on the couch. In an odd turn of events, the man I didn't even realize I had spoken of was Joe. My heart swells.

"Ready?" He asks, placing a hand on the small of my back. I feel like the question is asking more than if I'm just ready to go. Am I ready for what lays in store for the both of us?

"Ready," I say, and he gives a warm smile, guiding me out. Joe has been here for me for years. I'd like to head into the future right by his side, just like this.