More Than You Know Ch. 04

Steven

"Do you want to tell me why you turned Luke down when he asked you out? Would you like to explain to me why the bloody hell there was a beyond-shit-faced-drunk man on my porch waking me up at two in the damn morning with wet eyes, telling me how he'd been rejected before, but never 'like this'? The way I see it, you have a lot of explaining to do to one very, very angry black woman."

I looked into the intense dark brown eyes that stared at me from across the table, eyes any model would give anything to have. But that's not what I was thinking about—my mind was on Luke. He had gotten drunk. I had turned down one of the most sought-after single men around. He had been so interested. Wet eyes, for goodness' sake—after getting pants-shittingly drunk, yes, but still. Damn. I seemed to have a knack for cutting people to the quick. "Ev, I'm sorry."

"I said explain, not offer a half-assed apology," she fired back. Boy, she was a mother hen: when she was mad, she was mad. Her eyes blazed as she took a sip of her latté, clearly still waiting for an answer. I gave her the succinct response that had come to me every time I had asked myself why I had turned him down so quickly.

"I don't deserve him."

She just stared at me. The fire in her eyes died to a kind of puzzlement, then returned to their intensity.

"Oh, my god. You're serious." She rolled her eyes. "Steven, that is such crap."

"It seems like it at first, doesn't it?" I countered. "Think about it, though. He can find younger, he can find fitter, he can find more attractive, he can find a man in better shape."

"Steven—"

"He could find a man who could give him what he wants. He could find someone who isn't so anal and who would make him happy. He could find someone who doesn't worry as much as me, who isn't so structured, who isn't so damn type A. He could find a man who wouldn't disappoint him in bed. He could find a man without so much damn baggage. He could find a man who doesn't have a kid, a man who he doesn't have to share with that child. He could—"

"Shut up!" Ev interrupted, almost shouting. "Do you hear yourself? Honestly! Honey, I can spout bullshit as much as the next person, but this is ridiculous. Cut yourself a break. You are funny, you are intelligent, you are the best dad I've seen in my entire life, and the fact that your daughter is so amazing is a testament to that. You are beautiful, you are genuinely nice, you are sweet, you are absolutely adorable. You are you, Steven. Everyone has baggage, that's what makes us, us! And as for disappointing him in bed: sweetie, don't take this the wrong way, but Adam told me long ago what an animal you are." I blushed.

"That's not the point, though. The point is that Luke knows some of that stuff. He can tell, Steven. He's not stupid. He's interested in you." She pointed her finger at me and waved it up and down, pursing her lips. "All of you. He is aware that you have your problems just like he has his. Dating someone and having a relationship is about helping each other with the insecurities, not reinforcing them.

"He knows you have a daughter, and he is crazy about her, and he's crazy about how crazy you are about her. Being a good dad is so attractive, Steven. But we're getting way beyond ourselves, though: it was just a date, for God's sake! He wasn't asking you to marry him!"

I didn't have anything to say to that. For once, my smart-assed quick wit couldn't think of one damn sarcastic comment to say. She was right.

"Oh, my god. Strike the bells and ring up the chorus. Steven Abernathy is speechless!" Ev practically shouted. We were drawing looks and giggles from some of the other customers in the coffee shop. She looked back at me and smiled, lowering her voice again. "It was just a date."

"You're right," I responded.

"I'm sorry, what?" She gaped at me, dumbfounded.

"You're right. It was just a date. Being myself, I completely overanalyzed things and made a huge deal out of something that really shouldn't be so monumental." She stared at me, surprised, and then smiled.

"Silenced and apologetic, all in the same day. Wow. Good deal." She took a smug sip of her latté. "See, that wasn't so hard. So, now you can go down to his shop and ask him out."

"Now wait just a minute, Ev. I said I made a big deal about something that shouldn't be. You have to remember that this still remains huge for me."

"Ohmigawd, Steven," Ev breathed, clearly done hiding her exasperation. She spoke to me as if I was a toddler, drawing each syllable out. "You are interested; he is interested; it's a date. Go on a date." I just sat and looked at her for a few moments, and she returned my gaze. "A date. One. And if you don't like it, you don't have to go on another. What's the worst that could happen?"

I actually had an answer to that question. "I could fall hopelessly in love with him, he could realize that he'll never feel the same, and I'll not only be single again, but heartbroken, as well."

"You're a stubborn ass," she said bluntly. "Well, here's this before I leave and get to my errands, because I'm done beating around the bush. You need to decide what's more important to you: staying safely lonely, or taking a risk for happiness. It's totally up to you."

Well, poop. Ev had a gift for putting it into simple words that cut to the quick, didn't she?

Luke

"Luke, you have got to stop acting like a 14-year-old girl," I said to myself as I put the door panel back in place on a faithful customer's Ford. "It's been over a week. He said no. Let go of that dream." Even though I had said something like this to myself many times a day for the past ten days, it still didn't help. What was it about Steven Abernathy that had me so hooked?

Yes, he was good looking. To be honest, though, I'd had more attractive men in my bed, with abs that belonged in Men's Health and faces better than most models in management agencies. So why was Steven more attractive to me, more enticing than even the hottest hunk?

"Because he's real," I said to myself, twisting a screw into place. I'd also had attractive men who also looked like actual people, though, so it wasn't just that. So what was it? The answer came simply, wrapped up in one word, in one name: Ana.

I'd always had a thing for men with a fatherly way about them, men that I can tell will just make amazing dads some day. Steven, well, he was all that and more. He loved his daughter. He spent time with her. He made sure he was involved in her life. Ana turned out an amazing young woman because of his love and his discipline. He had his life together, his priorities balanced: that's part of being a great father. His being a dad gave him a more mature, selfless disposition that attracted me to the very core, like it was the perfect scenario. He sacrificed himself for Ana and everyone around him.

I wanted to be the one to give him something, plain and simple.

I pulled the switch on the inside handle of the car door and the window went up without a hitch. I ran my hands through my hair and walked from the garage into the office.

"Candi, call Delores and tell her her Taurus is ready to be picked up," I said as I walked through the door.

"Already done, sweet-cheeks," she replied, "and I told her about the window and we gossiped about how nice you are for fixing it." She cracked her gum loudly. If there was one thing about Candi that needed to stop, it was the gum popping.

"Must you do that?" I said, feigning irritation.

"If I didn't need to, I wouldn't," she smiled sweetly, batting her seemingly-eighteen-inch-long eyelashes at me.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," I said, turning around and walking back out. I glanced sideways to the tall garage doors and saw Steven standing there, hands in his pockets, looking every bit his role as a suburban CPA. This suit was a very light tan, and I usually think tan suits are tacky, but it was clearly rather new, fit like a dream, and set off his dark hair. Clearly, I would be thinking differently about tan suits from now on.

"Hi," he said nervously.

"Hello, Steven," I returned, a bit more coldly than I had originally intended. "What can I do for you?"

"Listen, Luke, I'm sorry. I didn't really know what to make of—"

"Steven," I interrupted, "if you came here to give me a lame apology or some sort of explanation as to why you turned me down, I'm not staying here to listen. I beg your pardon, but I am at work and have things to do. To be quite honest, I'm not even sure why you showed up now, over a week later, just to explain yourself." Wow, I sounded frigid, which was a feat since my insides were melting.

"It took me ten days to get up the courage to put myself out here like this, so you're going to stand here and listen to me," he practically demanded. There was that inner tiger again. "I was, as usual, overanalyzing things so much it got ridiculous. I'm rambling." He paused. "I didn't come here to explain myself, either. I came here to ask you to dinner."

Well, that wasn't quite what I'd expected; actually, that was not what I'd expected at all. I watched as he kept going, my silent gaze making him uncomfortable.

"I know that you're probably upset with me for declining your offer in the first place, although I have to say that I'm probably flattering myself thinking that you'd still be thinking about it after ten days."

"Steven."

"It took me some time, though, to work things out, and Ana reamed me a new one"

"Steven."

"and so did Ev, to be quite honest."

"Steven." He finally looked at me.

"I'm sorry. I'm uncomfortable and nervous and it's obvious that I haven't done this in over a decade."

"It's fine," I grinned, amused at his nervousness and surprised at his openness. We stood there in silence, waiting. Hey, he hadn't asked yet, and I wasn't going to make this simple for him. The more difficult this was, the more he would see that it was worth it. I know, I'm probably some kind of sadist for that, but oh, well. I stared into his eyes and he looked away, again unsettled by the silence. When his warm brown eyes met mine again, I saw something that I hadn't expected: rejection. Okay, my sadist act was done. I'd ease his discomfort just a bit.

"Well, are you going to ask?"

"Ask what?"

"Me to dinner."

"I already did," he said, looking at me uneasily.

"No, you said you came to ask me to dinner. I'm still waiting."

He glared at me, the unease in his eyes disappearing with a burst of fiery amusement that replaced it.

"No, you know, I think I've changed my mind," he smirked.

"Have you, now?" I smiled broadly, amused and enjoying myself immensely. He paused.

"Luke, would you like to have dinner with me?" He smiled, but nervousness flashed through his gaze.

"I would love to. How's tomorrow evening?"

"I can't. Ana and I have a tennis date."

"Wednesday?"

"I have to work late."

"Okay," I said. "What about Thursday evening?"

He was silent for a minute, then answered. "Thursday sounds fantastic." He smiled, his eyes shining. I looked into them, my own smile playing on my lips.

Stop swooning, Luke.

"Good," I said, blinking and glancing away. "How does Letta's sound to you?"

"That sounds fantastic. Can I just meet you there? I leave my office around 6 on Thursdays."

"That works for me," I answered. We exchanged numbers, then stood there awkwardly for a couple of seconds.

"Okay, well, uh, I'll see you then," Steven offered, turning to walk away.

"Hey, Steven."

"Yeah?" he replied, turning to face me.

"Thank you." I smiled. I couldn't help it. The best part was that he smiled back.

"Thank you, Luke."

Thursday wouldn't get here fast enough.

Steven

To say that I was nervous for my date would be the understatement of the century. I had two hours to myself in my office to work on a particularly complicated tax case for a nearby small business and a couple of retirement plans for some locals. Unfortunately, the only numbers I seemed to be able to pay attention to were on the clock.

I finished up just a couple of minutes before six, and I used the restroom to check myself in the mirror: fixing my shirt and hair, loosening my tie, straightening my belt. I walked the two blocks to the restaurant, deciding I could pick my car up after dinner. At Letta's, I checked inside with the hostess and found that Luke hadn't arrived yet. I went back outside and sat on the bench, closed my eyes, and took a deep breath, enjoying the nice weather. Not two minutes had passed before I heard the voice that had started to grace my dreams at night.

"Hey." I opened my eyes and my breath caught. Gone were the jeans, the flannel shirts, the casual shoes, the grease marks. In their place, he had shaved his hair, put on a nice shirt, and wore a pair of gray slacks that fit him perfectly. He looked like a million dollars.

"Hey," I said back as I stood up. "You, uh, you look amazing."

"Thank you," he said, smiling. Oh, that smile. "You look good yourself."

"What happened to your hair?" I asked, smiling and reaching up to feel it.

"I usually keep my hair this short. I guess I'd just forgotten about it lately."

"So usually no one can tell it's wavy?"

"No. Do you not like it?"

"No, no, no. I really like it. You look amazing. It looked great longer, though, too. You're one of those people who can pull it off either way." Oh, goodness, I realized I was rambling again. "Let's go inside."

He smiled at me warmly. "After you."

I smiled back and we stepped inside. The hostess recognized me from my entrance a few minutes before, and led us to our table. We sat, and I looked at Luke. He was the manifestation of my definition of the word 'attractive'. The mellow lighting in the restaurant made what was left of his golden hair shimmer like real gold, highlighted the angles of his face, accentuated the depth of his eyes.

"Do I have something in my teeth?" he asked, smiling at me.

"What? Oh, no, I'm sorry." I felt so embarrassed. I looked down at my menu, suddenly at a loss of what to say. I glanced up again, only to find his eyes still on me, shining with amusement.

"Steven?"

I looked up at him.

"Relax. It's okay to look." He smiled that smile again. I couldn't help but smile back at him.

"I'm sorry, I'm really rusty at this," I offered.

"At eating? Talking? It seems to me that you do plenty of both, so I don't think you have anything to worry about." That smile, again.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. You know what I mean," I said.

Dinner passed nicely, and I was able to relax quite a bit more after I had a glass of wine. The conversation was good, the back-and-forth natural; nothing was forced, and he didn't even try to kiss me at the end of the evening. It just felt so . . . right.

And that scared the shit out of me.

Luke

"Hey, sexy," Ev greeted in her best come-do-me-hard voice as she let me in to her house, whirling around in a silk camisole barely long enough to fit into the category of 'nightgown'.

"Uh, Ev, your kitty is about to come out, and I'm not talking about Boots." I gestured to the black-and-white cat hovering in the corner, peering cautiously at me with his yellow eyes.

"I'm trying to turn you on." She pranced over and ran her hand seductively down my chest. "Is it working?"

I tried to keep a straight face to play along, but it was no use. I busted up laughing. She stepped back, feigning offense.

"Sorry, doll. But you know I'd have been yours long before now if two mountains and a molehill were my natural habitat." I wiggled my eyebrows up and down at her. Now it was her that couldn't keep the straight face.

"Oh, my god," she laughed. "Please never—ever—use that analogy ever again." She grabbed a mug from her cupboard, poured some coffee into it, and handed it to me. "So how are you, honey?"

"I can't complain. Things at the garage are running very smoothly, but I'm thinking one of my guys is about to move. I do not want to train another replacement now, just when everything is wonderful. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Fine other than the fact that I have been single for over two weeks now."

"Whoa, honey, sound the alarm. You're going to blink your eyes and be an old maid."

"Shut up."

"Enjoy it. Take a breather for a while. You haven't been single in forever. You really are that girl who needs a boyfriend." That statement got her attention like I knew it would. She raised one of her eyebrows so high I thought it would continue straight up to her hairline.

"Excuse me?" She put her hands on her hips, her eyebrow still up.

"Well, honey, let's look at the facts. You're freaking out when it's been two weeks. Two. One, two. That sounds pretty desperate."

"Oh, fuck you," she smiled. "I'm not desperate, and I'll prove it. I'll be happy as a single woman." She had fallen right into my trap.

"Good. Besides, some of us have waited months to find someone to date, or in Steven's case, over six years."

"Speaking of Saint Steven, how are things going there?" she asked, looking at me lasciviously.

"Oh, come on, we both know better than that. He's just getting back in the game. We're taking it slow."

"How many dates have you been on? And NOT counting the night at Mid's."

"Six."

She raised her eyebrow at me skeptically.

"How many of those have been just you two?"

"Ev . . ."

"Luke," she interrupted, intent in her voice. She wasn't going to let this drop.

"Two. Ev, he's a dad. It's a package deal. It's not just optional—'tonight I think I won't have a daughter!' "

"Since I didn't know that, smartass. What are your next plans together?"

"Jesus, what is this, Twenty Questions?" She looked at me expectantly as I paused. "I'm going over to his place tonight."

"What are you doing?"

"We're having dinner."

"And?"

"And I don't know. Maybe we'll watch a movie. Ana will be there, Ev, so no boom-boom tonight, if that's what you're getting at." She was silent after this, and seemed to be mulling over the details. What a gossip queen.

"I'm happy for you. You both needed to find someone good."

We both took a sip of our coffee.

"You really like him, don't you?" she asked, looking at me carefully, examining me. I took another sip of coffee and pretended to think about it, but the answer was crystal-clear in my mind from the moment the question came out of her mouth. She wasn't fooled by my mock pensiveness, either.

"Yeah, Ev, I really do."

<><>

I rang the doorbell, the bag of groceries in one arm. I was surprised when Ana peeked out, the screen door still locked between us.

"Hey, Ana. How are you?"

"I'm doing just fine."

We stood there, looking at each other.

"Dad's not home from work yet, sorry."

"Oh, well, I had a hunch he'd have a busy day today, which is why I got some stuff for dinner. I figure he'd appreciate it if we cooked for him instead of him having to come home and make something for us." She smiled at me.

"Here's the problem: I'm not allowed to let strangers in." She tried not to smile, but it didn't quite work.

"Well, that's fine by me. How about you take most of what's in this bag, and I'll go around back to the grill, because if you can take care of most of the stuff inside, I can stay outside and take care of the salmon." She smiled even wider.

"Deal. You can cut through here to the back, though, and pick up whatever herbs you need."

"Thanks," I said as she held the screen door open.

"And don't try anything or else Luna will take you out."

I laughed as I looked to where Luna sat. She watched every move I made very carefully. The few times I had been over before, I had learned that although she was very friendly, she was also extremely intelligent, and took a special devotion to Ana. It made sense, as I had learned that Ana had extensively trained her when they first got her about two years ago. In fact, I'd probably be only marginally surprised if Luna stood on her hind legs and started to help us make dinner.