At First Sight - Nicholas Sparks [32]
Yes, he thought as he perched himself in front of the screen again, he and Lexie were doing just fine, and he chided himself for his suspicion, promising to make it up to her somehow. He could do that, he thought, he should do that—even if he would never admit the reason. Maybe they’d head out of town tonight for dinner.
Yeah, he decided, aside from porch sitting, there was nothing pressing on the old agenda, and a little change of pace might do them both some good. More than that, she’d be surprised at his thoughtfulness. If there was one thing he’d learned in the dating world, it was that women loved surprises, and if it helped him alleviate the guilt he felt from checking up on her in the first place, all the better.
He nodded to himself. A special night was just what they needed. He’d even buy her another bouquet of flowers, and he spent the next twenty minutes on the Internet, trying to figure out a good place to go. He found one, called Doris to see if she’d heard of it—she recommended it with gusto—and then made reservations before showering again.
With another couple of hours until she got off work, he sat in front of the computer again, his fingers poised on the keyboard. But even after a day spent mostly at the desk, Jeremy realized that he was no closer to writing than he had been when he’d risen that morning.
“I saw you earlier today,” Lexie said, peeking over her menu at him.
“You did?”
She nodded. “I saw you driving past the library. Where were you going?”
“Oh,” he said, glad she hadn’t caught him staring up at her window. “Nowhere, really. Just driving around to clear my mind before hitting the computer again.”
Surprised with a bouquet of daffodils and an out-of-town dinner reservation, she’d been thrilled, just as he’d expected. But of course, being thrilled meant heading back to her house so she could change and get ready, which delayed their departure by nearly forty-five minutes. By the time they arrived at the Carriage House on the outskirts of Greenville, their table had been given away and they’d had to wait at the bar for twenty minutes.
Lexie seemed reluctant to ask the obvious follow-up question, which made sense. Every day she asked how his writing went; every day Jeremy answered there had been no change. It was probably beginning to wear on her the same way it was beginning to wear on him.
“Did you get any ideas?” she ventured.
“A few, actually,” Jeremy lied. Technically, it wasn’t a lie—he’d had that strange idea about Lexie and Rodney—but he knew it wasn’t the sort of idea she was referring to.
“Really?”
“I’m still noodling with it, and we’ll see where it leads.”
“That’s great, honey,” she said, her mood brightening even more. “We should celebrate, then.” She gazed around the dimly lit room; with the waiters in black and white and candles on every table, the setting was surprisingly elegant. “How on earth did you find out about this place, anyway? I’ve never been here before, but I’ve always wanted to go.”
“Just a bit of research,” he said, “and then I called Doris.”
“She loves this place,” Lexie said. “If she had her way, I think she’d run a restaurant like this instead of Herbs.”
“But you have to pay the bills, right?”
“Exactly,” she said. “What are you planning on ordering?”
“I was thinking about the porterhouse,” he said, scanning the menu. “I haven’t had a good steak since I left New York. And the au gratin potatoes.”
“Isn’t a porterhouse two steaks? The strip and the filet?”
“That’s why it sounds good,” he said, closing the menu, his mouth already watering. As he looked across at her, he noticed her nose was wrinkling. “What?” he asked.
“How many calories do you think that has?”
“I have no idea. And I don’t care, either.”
She forced a smile, returning to the menu again. “You’re right,” she said. “We don’t go out like this all the time, so what’s the big deal? Even if it is . . . what? A pound, pound and a half of red meat?”
He felt his brow furrowing. “I didn’t say I was going to eat the whole thing.”
“It doesn’t matter even if you do. It