Four times. That is how many times throughout the week I picked up the phone to cancel my date with Wes. I never ended up doing it, I kept chickening out. Granted, I didn’t really have a good reason, except that I was still mad about his lying and him thinking I’d just roll over and take it. However, I promise him a date, so tonight we’re going on a date.

I really just wanted to just go to one of the small places in Harlington or the Watering Hole, but he said that he wanted to take me out for real, not just a casual thing. Rather than just someplace close by we’re driving to Waldorf, about a two and a half-hour drive, to go to the only Mexican food restaurant within a four-hour drive from us. As much as I thought about arguing with him, Mexican food sounded really good.

I’m expecting Wes here any minute so I take one final look in the bedroom mirror.. I’m wearing a burgundy sweater dress that hits right above the knee. I have on fleece-lined leggings because it is pretty chilly today and I have on black boots that go up to mid-thigh. I couldn’t decide what to do with my hair. I put it up, down, up, down. Finally decided to keep it down.

The downstairs doorbell dings and I buzz the door open. A few moments later, Wes knocks on the front door. I open it and see him standing there with a bouquet of white hydrangea flowers. He’s wearing dark denim jeans with a crisp white collared shirt with a charcoal gray dress coat. He smiles and hands me the flowers. I take a big whiff as I step aside to let him in.

“These are beautiful, Wes. Thank you.”

“I hope you like them. I was going to do roses, but it seems like everybody buys roses. You deserve something better.”

I can feel my cheeks blushing a bit so I turn to walk into the kitchen while I keep talking to him. “These are so beautiful. I love roses too, but something different is cool. Let me just get a vase for them.”

“Of course.” Wes follows behind me and leans against the kitchen island as I fill the vase with water. I set them on the middle of the kitchen table and then grab my purse and coat that are sitting on the back of the couch.

“Ready?” I say to him.

He winks at me, “I’ve been ready since about three this afternoon.”

“Oh yeah? Why is that?”

“Just eager, I guess.” He shrugs like it is no big deal. Wes and I walk to his truck where he opens the door and offers his hand to give me an extra boost. It is a quiet drive at first. I won’t lie and pretend like there isn’t some awkwardness in us being together. I try to break the ice and get him talking.

“So do you like Mexican?”

“Mama makes great tacos, but I’m pretty sure they aren’t very Mexican. Tiff started making tamales last year at Christmas time. They’re really good and I’m hoping they have some here. We’ll see. I’ve never been to this place.”

“What’s your favorite type of food?”

“Steak,” he says without missing a beat.

I reach over the push against his arm, “Oh stop, that’s the easy answer. Steak doesn’t count.”

“Okay fine, I’d have to say pizza. Is that an okay answer?”

I giggle a bit, “Pizza is good. I’m so typical though, I like just pepperoni. I know some people like all that junk on their pizza, but either cheese or pepperoni.”

“Nothing wrong with being typical. Sausage is my favorite. That’s kind of typical and normal too.”

“Have you ever tried breakfast pizza?”

“Only if you mean pizza the next morning.”

“No, although that is good too! No this is a pizza with breakfast items with gravy instead of sauce. Usually, it has bacon, sausage, and scrambled eggs.”

He glances over at me with his eyebrow raised. “Okay, I’m not hating the idea, keep talking.”

I laugh, “Okay, you can order it with onion and green peppers, but I don’t really like those things on my pizza. Oh, and of course cheese.”

“Damn, that sounds glorious. Where do I get one of these?”

“The first time I saw it was at a gas station in Fargo, but some of the diners around the university in Bismark started carrying their own versions of theirs too.”

“I’m going to need one of those.”

“I’ll see what I can do.” He looks over at me and smiles. God, he has such a great smile.

A couple of hours later we arrive at Moreno’s and Wes hustles over to help me get out of the truck. The wind is howling and my hair starts blowing everywhere. I hold my hair and Wes puts his hand on my lower back and ushers me into the restaurant.”

“Oh my god, that was horrible,” I say as I try to straighten my hair and get rid of the knots.

“Your hair looks like crap.” Wes teases me, but I nudge him in the side.

“Hey now!”

He throws his hands up in the air. “Honesty is the best policy.”

I look up at him with raised eyebrows. “Oh really, that’s what you’re going with? All of a sudden you’re the beacon of honesty?”

He gives a big grin and shrugs his shoulders. ‘“What? I told you I would honest with you about everything now. You can’t hate me for it.”

I playfully shove him and he just laughs at me. After the hostess seated us, we start digging into the unlimited chips and salsa that are at our table. They had two different red salsas, plus a green salsa verde.

“Which one are you liking the best?”

“I’m not sure.” He dips another chip into the hot salsa. “I don’t usually like spicy things that much, but this hot salsa is pretty good.”

“I agree, although it is making my cheeks heat up a little bit.” I jokingly fan my cheeks.

“Are you sure that just isn’t your company making you blush?”

“I’m sure.” I give him a smile and a wink. He just shakes his head at me and chuckles.

We order our food and get another refill on the chips. That is the one thing about a Mexican food place, I can’t stop eating tortilla chips, no matter how much they fill me up.

“So what are your plans for Thanksgiving?” Wes asks me.

“My sister is going to come down the Monday before and my brother will be here the Wednesday before. It’ll be nice to see them both.”

“Are they staying at your place?”

“Yep. It’ll be a bit crowded, but we will survive. If it gets to be too much, I’ll go crash on Stacy’s couch.”

“Are you close with your siblings? I know you aren’t physically close since you moved and all.”

“I like to think so. My sister and I are pretty close, but we’re also closer in age so maybe that is why. We talk on the phone at least a few times a week. Holden is 24, but I swear he acts like he’s still 16 sometimes. We have an ongoing meme group text that he’s usually most active on.”

“That sounds like something my siblings would try and make me do. Tyler would probably be all about a meme chat. He’s kind of like that too, pretty much forever sixteen. I guess they do say girls mature faster.”

“You’re probably right. I think it is great that you’re super close with your brothers., I’m assuming that’s how you like it?”

“Yeah.” He says and then pauses before continuing on. “I don’t really know any different, but yeah, my brothers are my best friends. Even though they piss me off. I’ve got the ranch hands that I hang out with here and then, but since moving back into my parent’s house, it has been mostly just my brothers and me back to making trouble again.

“I bet you were a rowdy bunch of teenagers.”

He smirks, “Guilty as charged.”

The waitress returns with our food. Wes ordered the steak fajitas with beans and rice and I ordered the pollo y arroz, chicken and rice, burrito. She sets down the burrito in front of me and I’m shocked at the size. It is easily the size of my forearm.

“Wow, I didn’t think they were going to be this big. I feel like I’m wearing too fancy of clothes to eat this thing.” I look down at my nice sweater dress.

“That is nothing. I could eat that burrito for breakfast.”

I cackle out a laugh. “I don’t doubt it. You look like the kind of guy that eats some hearty meals.”

“Excuse me, young lady, are you saying I’m fat?”

“Shut up, Wes, you know that isn’t what I’m saying.”

As dinner goes on, I quickly remember how much I loved talking to Wes and the conversations that we would have. I never met a guy that was so attentive to my ramblings about changing up recipes or catering events. He listened to every word, even if he doesn’t understand what I’m talking about. He even asks some questions to clarify things he didn’t understand.

He also opened up about some of the drama he went through with Annabelle and how she’s an almost-three-year-old little diva right now. Her birthday is coming up and all she wants is a Frozen party.

“So I told her that I would just take her outside the play in the snow, but apparently that isn’t good enough for a Frozen party.”

I put my napkin down on my lap and let out another very un-ladylike laugh. “Wes Brown! You are horrible. Give that girl a birthday party!”

“But it is just my family. We don’t have any other kids that are around to invite. Why should I throw a huge party with games and decor for adult guests?”

“Because she only turns three once.”

“Well shit, now you’re making me feel like a shitty dad. I guess you’re right. I bet Mama and Tiff would love decorating the house.”

“And hey, I could give you a smoking deal on cupcakes. I know somebody.” I wink his direction.

“Do you have time for that in your busy schedule? According to what you just said, you barely have a moment to breathe between now and Christmas.”

“Nonsense,” I wave him off, “I could take some time for a dozen cupcakes for her. Could probably whip them up in a half-hour or so.”

“I think I’ll take you up on that. Can you have them done by Thursday? I know that is kind of soon.”

“Sure can. What is her favorite cake flavor?”

“She loves that vanilla and chocolate swirl. Can you do that?”

“You need to stop doubting my skills, Mr. Brown. I’ll have them ready by Thursday. Decorated and everything.”

“Thanks, Holly. Seriously.” He looks straight into my eyes, being very honest with me.

“Of course. That’s what friends do?”

“Friends?” The look on his face drops a little.

“Don’t get disappointed!”

“Not disappointed.” He shakes his head. “A week ago you hated me. I’m lucky you even want to be my friend.”

We finish up dinner and Wes insists on paying. Normally I would only agree to split the check on a first date, but to be honest, he’s put me through a lot lately so I didn’t even fight it when he picked up the check. He also pulled the truck around to the front to pick me up because the wind had picked up and the temperature dropped a lot. He quickly helps me into the truck and turns the heater on full blast to get rid of the chill. My hands feel like ice and I’m holding them up to the vents to warm them up.

“How does your hand feel?”

“Cold.”

“I mean from the ... incident.”

I look over at him, “The incident? That’s what we’re calling it?”

“Sure, I don’t really know what else to say about it.”

“It’s fine. I didn’t need stitches. They just cleaned it out real well and wrapped it up. After about a week it was fine.” I turn my hand over and show him my palm. The scar is still there, but it has begun to heal/

“That’ll probably scar, huh?” Wes takes my hand to examine it closely.

“Probably. I guess always a reminder of that day.”

“A good or bad reminder?” He puts my hand back down on the center console.

“I don’t know yet.”

Perhaps it wasn’t an actual answer, but it was all I could give him at this point in time. I’m not ready to jump all in with him again. I wasn’t lying to him though, I do want to be his friend. I just can’t commit to any more than that just yet.