48 First Dates (Seeking Romance #1)

The Prince Who Left Early

27

Gavin from the app,

Went for barbeque—lasted

fifteen minutes long—

T hree weeks later, a request came in. I swiped GavTheFav into the kingdom. After a string of mismatches and a dry spell with no requests, this date could be the one. If he wasn’t, I was ready to delete Royal Swype and start all over again the old-fashioned way.

GavTheFav and I texted back and forth a few times. We finally settled on meeting at one of the new barbeque places in town, Smokey Butts , for a late lunch.

When the date came, we ordered pulled pork sandwiches and found free seats at one of the long wooden tables that ran the length of the dining area. The conversation flowed back and forth as easily as the smokey scent from the grill permeated the restaurant. Gavin and I laughed at all the Smokey Butts merchandise. I especially liked the T-shirt that said, “I like my butts rubbed” on the front and “I’d smoke that” on the back.

For the first ten minutes, everything was great.

I was mid-sentence when all the color drained out of his face. I turned and saw Brenn and another girl enter the restaurant. I waved to get their attention.

Gavin shout-whispered, “No!”

“Why not? That’s my best friend, Brenn.” I gave him a get-it-together-man look.

“Because that’s my ex-girlfriend.”

“Oh,” I said. But at that point, it was too late. Brenn was already heading our way. He led his date to the two cleared spots next to us at the communal table.

Brenn sat down next to me, oblivious to his date’s discomfort, when she realized that the only other open seat was across the table, next to Gavin.

“Hi, I’m Adelaide.” I offered her my hand.

“Maggie,” she said as she shook my hand like a limp fish. “Hey, Gavin,” she greeted as she sat down.

“Hey, you two know each other?” Brenn asked, and she nodded. “Well, that’s great! The four of us can eat together.”

The awkward silence was punctuated by a waitress setting down Brenn’s favorite barbeque cheese fries and Maggie’s barbeque chicken salad. They were quick here.

Brenn leaned over. His unique fragrance of bergamot, citrus, wood, and musk temporarily overpowered the sweet smoke.

Man, he smells good.

He grinned conspiratorially. “Did you see the rubbed butts shirt?”

I laughed and nodded.

“Got one for Cynthia. Think she’ll wear it?”

“Not a chance!” I glanced over at Gavin and Maggie, who were both staring ahead. “Uh, Gavin and I were just laughing about that. Which shirt is your favorite, Maggie?” I asked, attempting to drag them into our conversation.

“I... I’m... Oh, Gavin, I’m sorry, I can’t do this.” Maggie’s face crumpled as she whimpered.

“Maggie, I don’t want... I... I can’t do this either. I’m so sorry. I was such a fool. Can you forgive me?” my date responded.

Maggie nodded, and Gavin was on her like stink on poo. They were kissing while tears streamed down both their faces.

Brenn and I stared with dropped jaws from across the table.

Gavin and Maggie got up, lips still locked, and crab-walked out of the restaurant together.

“Well, that is not how I saw that date ending.” Brenn whistled as he pointed his fork after them. “How about you?”

“Nope.” I burst out laughing, and he joined in.

When we stopped, he nudged me with his shoulder and said, “Let’s not let this food go to waste, except the salad. Who orders salad at a barbeque restaurant?”

I shook my head, and we signaled the waitress to take the excess food. Meanwhile, we dug into our plates. The tender pork was as rich as it smelled, and I easily inhaled the other half of my sandwich.

“So, I think that’s the fastest date I have ever had,” I said between bites. “I thought we were having a good time. I was cracking jokes. He was laughing. And then you two walked in, and everything shifted.”

“I know she was quiet, but she smiled. She seemed like a nice girl if you ignore the salad order.” Brenn shrugged his shoulders as he stabbed another piece of barbecued meat, plus a cheese fry.

I swallowed my bite and pursed my lips. “Maybe we’re doing this wrong, Brenn. Like we think we’re good at first dates, and really we stink. Give me the first five minutes of your first-date schtick.” I motioned with my hand for him to talk.

“Adelaide, I can’t do that. I know you too well.” He shook his head.

“C’mon, Brenn. You share yours, and I’ll share mine.” I batted my eyes at him as I tilted my head slightly.

“Well, it better not involve that. That is something you should save for a few dates in once you’ve got him wrapped around your little finger.” Brenn pointed at me with his fork before stabbing it into another fry on his plate.

I soft-punched him in the arm, and he pretended to be hurt.

“Seriously, Brenn, let’s help each other out.”

Our eyes found each other. For a moment, the sound level around us dropped. My attention focused on him as he whispered, “Whatever you want, Ads.”

I snapped the spell and said, “Great! Move over to the other side so you’re across from me. I’ll go first.”

As he moved his stuff, I painted on my first date smile. Once he sat down across from me, I stuck out my hand. “Hi, I’m Adelaide.”

“Brenn.” He took my hand in his hand. An unexpected spark wound its way through my palm and up my arm.

“I... uh...” My words had disappeared.

He dropped my hand, grinning. “Pull it together, Monroe.”

“Right, where was I...” I paused until the faucet of words started dripping out once more. “So, I saw on your profile that you play soccer for the college. How did that happen?”

“I’ve played most of my life, either in pickup games on the farm or in rec-leagues. One of the physical therapists I worked with in high school encouraged me to try out for the county all-star team.” I glanced down at the table, noticing a heart-shaped knot on the table next to the mason jar filled with flowers. I absently traced the knot as he spoke.

“I made the team and traveled around playing. It was on one of the trips that the scout from the college spotted me, and the rest is history. I kinda used to dream of being like Pele or Maradona. But when I had to take off the first year of college because of a knee injury, that dream ended.”

My head popped up. I remembered when Brenn hurt his knee but didn’t know about the rest. “You wanted to go pro? I didn’t know that.”

“Yeah.” The smile on his face. I couldn’t look away.

Without warning or permission, a question pops out of my mouth. “What soap do you use?”

Brenn raised his left eyebrow. “You ask your dates what soap they use?”

“Sure, it’s a valid question.” I kept a straight, serious face.

The corner of his mouth quirked up. He leaned in and placed his elbows on the table. His scent reached me, and my nose drank it in once more.

I already know his answer.

It’s Grandpa’s Leprechaun soap—Irish Spring.

At least, I think it is…

“I don’t use soap. That’s all me.” He said, dragging out the all in a husky voice as he looked at me through hooded eyes.

Oh.

My.

Fairy Godmother.

Push me over with a feather.

Whew! Did it suddenly get really warm in here?

Brenn threw his head back in a deep laugh. “Just kidding. It’s Irish Spring.”

Bingo!

I pretended to laugh with him. “Good one. You know, my grandfather used to call that his leprechaun soap.”

“Seriously, because it was green or because it was called Irish Spring?” Brenn pressed his lips into a smirk.

I raised my hands, palms up. “No idea, but maybe we should both avoid the soap subject on future dates.”

Practice, Adelaide, you’re supposed to be practicing.

I cleared my throat and steered the conversation to a safer subject. “What are you studying?”

“Accounting.”

“And why did you choose that?”

“Hmm, because I like numbers and solving problems. My dad always encouraged a backup plan. He drilled into my head that ‘Success is no accident, so you gotta have plan upon plan, son.’ My uncle started his own accounting firm. His enthusiasm for numbers kinda rubbed off on me, and I figured that could be Plan B. Plus, I was really bad in English class.” He took another bite of his cheese fries.

I want to be that cheese slathered all over...

Ack! NO! Pull it together, Adelaide!

I shook my head and rolled my eyes. “Don’t get me started on grammar or Latin...”

He laughed and then asked, “What about you? Why did you go into Wildlife Management?”

“Because I love nature. I love being outside, watching birds or dolphins. I love seeing the subtle changes in the forest year after year. And I love seeing how an ecosystem flows together. How the plants provide for the animals and the animals provide for the plants. And how that cycle helps to provide us with the clean air and water we need. I love learning about how it’s all intertwined. It’s beautiful.”

“You’re beautiful, especially when you talk about something you are passionate about.”

“Do you say that to all the girls?” I asked, setting my elbows on the table and leaning on my hands.

“No.” He mirrored my movements and stared into my eyes.

I was about to make some snarky remark, but the look on his face wouldn’t let the words out of my lips.

Get a handle on yourself, Adelaide!

“Let’s see your routine, O’Conner,” I said as I leaned back and switched gears, attempting to rein in the butterflies that were flitting around in my stomach.

“You can handle my routine, Monroe.” He leaned back and draped one arm over the back of his chair.

“Try me,” I egged him on. “Oh, you should definitely do that whole smoldering eye-stare thing. No girl can resist that. Maggie would have forgotten all the Gavins she ever met if you had led with that one.”

Brenn looked at me with a question in his eyes.

“You know, the one you gave me when you took my hand.” His confusion didn’t clear. “Right, well, never mind, just make eye contact. Girls love that.”

“Like this.” His focus was solely on me, and I was finding it hard to think.

“Yeah, like that,” I breathed.

The restaurant was doing its disappearing thing again. I felt myself leaning toward Brenn.

“Questions!” I exclaimed, bouncing back. “Girls like questions.”

Brenn smirked. “I read on your profile that you like fairy tales. Which one is your favorite?”

“That’s an easy one—‘The Irish Prince and the Leprechaun.’ My dad would read it to me just about every week from this old, worn volume of obscure fairy tales. It was one that his grandmother gave him.”

“I’ve heard that one—the princess gets turned into a rock by a banshee and gets left in a cave. The prince looks everywhere for her, even sitting on top of her. But in the end, it’s the leprechaun that helps her and the prince reunite.”

I nodded. “I thought I ran into the Irish prince, Ruairí, on the playground when I was five. After that, I made my dad read it every night for a whole year,” I said with a laugh.

Brenn grinned, but then his eyes went wide. “Wait, that was you?”

I felt my eyebrows crinkle in confusion.

“When I was a kid, we were vacationing near Pleasanton. One day, my mom took me to a playground—that was her thing. She would take me to the best playground in any area we visited. I was minding my own business. All of a sudden, a girl screaming out ‘Sir Benson’ while pretending to ride a horse ran into me. She called me by my middle name, but I never got hers. As soon as the sand started flying, my mom whisked me out of there.”

I started at Brenn, the cogs of my memories clicking into place. “That was you?”

“That was me. Whatever happened to Sir Benson?”

“He moved away.”

“Too bad for him.” The smirk on Brenn’s face said otherwise.

Oh man, that smirk could get me in so much trouble.

“You know, your eyes light up when you talk about your dad. You should talk about him more often,” he said softly.

I nodded, trying to speak, but the tears pushing against my eyelids kept the words inside.

“Ads,” Brenn said as he reached for my hand again.

I pulled back and plastered on a smile. “I’m fine. Ask me another question.”

“So, where did you grow up?”

I took a deep breath. We were back on track now. “Obviously, I grew up in the panhandle of Florida. That vacation playground of yours was a weekly stopover for me. How about you?”

“Northern Alabama. My parents moved from Montana to buy a farm there.” Brenn shared facts I was already familiar with as we both continued to play along.

“Wow, that must have been fun. Did your parents raise cattle? Or did they grow stuff?”

“Chickens. We raised chickens for meat and eggs.”

“What was that like?”

“Messy. Chickens poop a lot. I preferred to help out with the hatchery. All those little chicks running around—the wonder of new life. It made shoveling all the poop worth it.”

“Tell me more,” I encouraged softly.

We talked about life on the farm, his family, and how his mom made the best cinnamon rolls every year for Christmas. How she also refused to share the recipe with anyone but his sister. He told me about his love/hate relationship with goats.

I told him about my not-so-secret fear of snakes and how I had loved growing up near the water, how nothing beats watching a sunset over the Gulf with your toes in sugar-white sand. I told him about our annual beach snowman. And about how much I still missed my dad.

I didn’t notice when the waitress cleared the plates.

I didn’t notice when the other couple sat down next to us or when they left.

And I didn’t notice when the sunlight dimmed and the fairy lights came on around us.

For the first time in months, I felt like myself. I didn’t think about Wyatt. And when I shared the memories of my dad, they were tinged with sweetness instead of sadness.

“So, O’Conner, I approve of your first date questions. Obviously, they led to more discussion,” I said as I gestured to the fairy-lit-darkness that now surrounded us.

“And you, Monroe, bravo. I would ask you out on a second date.” The crinkle in the corner of his eyes begged me to believe there was an unspoken truth behind his words.

But this had been practice, right?

The idea that Brenn and I could go on a second date that this moment between us could be a bridge past friendship...

I felt like Gretel and her brother Hansel. At least, I imagined this is how they felt when they discovered a gingerbread candy house in the middle of the woods.

Except the idea of losing Brenn as a friend...

I knew the ending of that Hansel-Gretel fairy tale—I wasn’t going to wait around for the old woman to fatten me up. I wasn’t going to enter the dream to find an evil reality.

But sometimes dreams come true...

The battle of thoughts raged louder as Brenn spoke, “In fact, I think—”

His words were cut off by the waitress swinging by for the sixth time that afternoon to ask if we needed anything. We shook our heads. “No.”

As she walked away, Brenn’s eyes found mine, and that flicker of warmth ignited in the lower reaches of my heart.

Afraid to fan the growing warmth into a flame, I cleared my throat, glancing at my watch as I gathered my thoughts. “Woah, we’ve been here for a long time! We gotta give them this spot back.”

Brenn nodded and stood up. I swear I saw a hint of disappointment on his face before he took my hand, and we headed across the worn wood floor to the exit.

On the way out through the gift shop, I bought a pig-shaped charm. I wanted to remember this first date. It had been the longest and best one I had been on in a long time.

Too bad GavTheFav had only been there for the first fifteen minutes of it.