Only Yours

07. The Date

Tamina

Brandon opens my door for me, and it feels nice to be out in the air again. It clears my head, and now that I'm staring up at him with a clear view, I'm more than ready to step into this little bubble with him.

Climbing out, I stand beside him, waiting quietly as he secures the vehicle. To say that after being inside the Aston Martin the air is nippier is an understatement. I'm sure my arms would be acting up if it weren't for the cardigan. Once I adjust, the air becomes comforting against my face as we trek across the parking lot.

In a neat line leading toward the porch, lampposts beam down upon us. The rest are pinpointed at the four corners to help, so there's not much strain on the eyes and headlights on their way to and from.

"How are you feeling?"

Peering up at Brandon, he's already staring down at me. "I'm good, thank you. I'm actually kind of buzzing," I laugh. "Thank you for bringing me."

Inclining his head, he muses, "Of course. But you haven't seen the inside yet."

I grin. "It doesn't matter, I'm just happy to be here."

I'm hoping he can hear the honesty in my voice. I don't plan on taking the words back because they're true, and now that I'm here, it's not as terrifying as I thought it would be. Judging by the subtle flare of his eyes, he's surprised.

"How are you feeling?" I ask when nothing else is added, stepping over the small pathway that acts as a divider for the section we're in.

"Privileged."

I laugh, shaking my head at him. "That's so cheesy."

Brandon chuckles, but he doesn't deny it.

Even though we're finding humour, I'm bubbling up inside. I'm not sure if he said it to lighten the mood or if it were a genuine comment, but a girl can dream.

Once there's approximately a quarter of the car park left, the glow emitting from the building isn't flaring against the darkness, which allows me a nice view of the building. Thick cobbled walls stretches on further than any building I've seen, and the framework is a rich dark oak. Right above the double doors is a sign that reads 'Food Army' in thick cursive letters on a chunky plaque.

A giggle bursts out of me, catching Brandon's attention.

"What's so funny?"

I point to the sign, starting to sober up. "N-nothing, I just noticed the name. It's cute."

There's a slight twitch of a smile. "If you are this pleased with the outside, wait until you see what is on the other side."

Following his lead, we step up onto the porch, and I'm in awe of how clean it is considering that it's wood. The pine is smooth and shiny, as if it has only just been polished. I take care not to accidentally scuff it and thank Brandon as he holds one of the doors open for me.

The first thing to greet me is the warmth, already making me question whether I should keep my cardigan on. The second is the flooring; lavish oak covers the expanse, contrasting with the snow-white skirting. I manage to get a quick glimpse of the deep red wine tone of the walls of the entrance before I'm steered further in.

"What do you fancy? This place has everything you could possibly desire," Brandon murmurs close to my ear, and shivers run down my spine.

Breathing in, I catch the note of his aftershave—citrusy and musky. Around it, even though it's faint, I can smell the spices and herbs from various foods.

To say it's definitely making me feel like a takeaway mood is an understatement.

My stomach rumbles as I take in the large metal framework behind the counter on the left-hand side of the room. It's all concealed except for a swinging double door. It starts at the centre of the wall and runs along the wall until it hits the end. The counter is also made of thick, glinting steel with two registers a few feet apart from each other.