Page 68 of When In Doubt

“I have been told in no uncertain terms that I’ve got to be on my best behavior.”

Jesus Christ.

I meet his eyes and he quirks a brow. “Are you ready?”

After a long inhale, I answer. “I guess so.”

He stands and as he reaches my side he places a hand on the small of my back, guiding me towards the door. The touch is so casual but it sends a jolt of electricity up my spine and I almost shiver. “Don’t sound too excited,” he teases.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I am excited, really.”

Oscar pauses just before he pushes open the door. “I know.” The smile he gives me is so warm and so gentle it makes my chest clench. “And I know you’re nervous, but I promise there’s nothing to stress about. We’re just getting lunch, there’s no pressure.”

My gaze bounces between his eyes, assessing the truth of what he’s saying. He doesn’t react, doesn’t flinch or hide. He shows me everything he’s feeling and lets me take my time until I’m sure.

There’s always a part of me that’ll be afraid of getting into something new after what I’ve had to face, but maybe I just need to be okay with that. I can be scared, but I can’t let it stop me from trying. Maybe this thing with Oscar won’t go anywhere, maybe we’ll get lunch, and then go back to being acquaintances. But I won’t know that unless I give it a shot. I owe it to myself to at least give this a chance, even if it’s a little terrifying.

“Let’s go,” I say, allowing myself to lean into his side a little more.

Oscar grins and pushes the door open, pausing to flip the sign.

“I swear if Joyce comes by and I miss her...”

“I’ll keep a lookout.” He chuckles. “If a swarm of crafters appears, I’ll give you the nudge. Otherwise, let’s just have fun, deal?”

“Deal.”

“Fantastic.”

He seems so different to the way I first thought of him. He’s so open, so easy with his smiles and his affection. It’s almost strange in how natural it feels, like this is who he’s supposed to be and it’s the stern, stoic version of him that’s the act.

Outside it’s warm, one of the warmest days I’ve had since coming back, only cut through by a soft breeze that moves the flowers starting to sprout up in the planters lining the sidewalk. I probably don’t appreciate it enough, how beautiful this town is. It’s like something out of a picture book.

As soon as we’re through the door, Becca smiles up at us and nods her head at a table tucked into a small alcove. Every time I’ve been in here it’s been full, usually with kids studying or people working. Today the wood surface is covered with a sage green tablecloth and there’s a candle placed in the center. A slate sign declares it as “reserved – 1 p.m. to close.”

“Fucking hell,” Oscar huffs, but there’s humor lacing his tone.

I knock his elbow with mine. “You really went all out.”

“No.” He reaches up to scratch at the notch between his brows. “This had nothing to do with me.”

I turn to see Becca looking very much like somebody trying to seem busy. Too bad there’s not actually a customer in front of her. She glances over, attempting to be discreet, but when she catches me staring she just gives a sheepish shrug.

“Not that I didn’t want to make an effort,” Oscar rushes to add. “I just wanted to keep things relaxed.”

“I know.” And I do. He’s never given me a reason not to.

“Here, have a seat.” He pulls out the chair by the wall, where I’ll be out of sight from the rest of the diners. As soon as I’m sat, it’s easier to settle my nerves, at least there aren't any eyes on me anymore. Though I’m sure everyone will have heard about this by mid-afternoon, especially with Becca keeping people away from her best table. “You want your usual or do you feel like mixing it up?” Oscar asks.

“The same, please.”

“Perfect. I’ll be right back.” But before he can head up to the counter, Becca appears, notebook in hand.

“What’ll it be?” she asks.

Oscar frowns at her, not breaking their stare down even as she nudges him toward his seat. “This place doesn’t have table service.” He sits, still watching her warily.

Becca shrugs. “We do today.”