The Winstons Book One

CHAPTER TWO

CHAPTER TWO

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THE MAN PACED BACK and forth on the corner of the street. In the beginning, when he got there, about five minutes earlier, he had decided to wait patiently. However, he was almost sure that she wouldn’t show up and had used her classes as an excuse, so she wouldn’t have to go on a date with him at all.

The young woman seemed delicate and sheltered. That led him to believe that she would avoid any further contact with him.

He had seen that type of woman before, those sheltered flowers, living in a polite world, where everything was covered under several layers of paint to deflect reality. Well, in his experience, those innocent flowers would run away like scared rabbits once they took a good look at him and his scar. None ever stuck around for a second chance.

He didn’t harbor any illusions about romance or anything like that. He had left such baggage aside some time in his past. He knew that a girl like her wouldn’t dream about a man like him. He didn’t fit the mold of a man she would bring back home to meet mom and dad.

Thank God, he didn’t have such aspirations. He was too much of a realist. Besides, although he didn’t want to admit it, he was too terrified to put himself out there in the open and reveal what was in his soul. It wouldn’t have been smart. Someone would assuredly stomp on it.

He glanced at his watch as he continued pacing around. Surprised, he noticed that he had arrived too early for their meeting. There were about three minutes left until six. Anyway, he knew that he would wait, not only until six o’clock but probably even ten or fifteen minutes past six, although he didn’t expect the woman to keep her promise.

Somewhere, at the back of his mind, there was the knowledge that he had partly set up that date only to punish himself. He was very good at teaching himself, repeatedly, not to reach for someone as innocent and wholesome as the girl from that morning.

He had been warned against such wishful thinking many times in the past. Nevertheless, he still found a masochistic delight in challenging fate as if his turn would surely come one day, and then he would win for once. He liked beating the odds.

He was still striding on the sidewalk nervously when, suddenly, he saw the woman rushing toward him. She was pushing past the moving crowd in a hurry, much like she had done that morning.

It occurred to him that probably, being late was one of her habits. It wasn’t the worst habit in the world, anyway. He had seen worse things than that, and after all, he could live with that.

This time, at a second, more appraising, glance, the first thing he noticed was the woman’s honey-colored hair, thick and full of curls. It flew freely over her shoulders. In the morning, she had it gathered in a thick ponytail. He had liked her hair that way too. That mass of hair was too deep and lively not to like it. However, right then, with that wild mane set free, the young woman was much more enticing than he remembered.

A slow smile flourished on his lips, and he wasn’t even aware that he was smiling, although it was out of the ordinary for him. The longer he watched and admired the woman, the more he realized that he would fall for that girl, and in a dangerous way. The thought troubled him enough to make him frown for a second, and any trace of his earlier grin disappeared.

The young woman stopped a few steps away from him and smiled shyly.

Her smile reached her eyes and colored the chocolate of the iris in a warmer nuance than the one he had liked so much only a few hours before. At that very moment, he was sure he would give her anything she wanted only to enjoy her sweet eyes a little more.

“Hi,” she said out of breath when she reached him, and her lips arched a little more, tentatively. “I’m really sorry that I’m late, but I had a bit of a problem at home, and I had to take care of that. That’s why I couldn’t leave earlier. My kitchen flooded. Again.”

“It's all right. You’re not late. But It looks like you’re not having a very good day today, though,” he replied with a smile. Her way of talking amused him. Her voice was low. It didn't sound like the voice of some of the women he had dated. He appreciated that it didn’t chime like tiny bells in his ears every single time she opened her mouth. He hated the high pitch of an all too sweet, dishonest voice.

“I think we should introduce ourselves. I’m Bryan,” he said, smiling at her.

“Becka,” she extended her hand to him enthusiastically, and the man’s smile grew wider. She didn’t seem reluctant at all to go out with him, and that got his hopes up. His perpetual smile hinted at the change in his expectations and his opinion of her.

“Hello, there, Becka. Nice to meet you.” He took her small hand and shook it gently. “So, aside from nearly sending a stranger to the hospital this morning and the flood this afternoon, how was your day?” he continued, and without letting her hand go, he turned her toward the strip of shops.

“Well, I was too late for my first class this morning, which annoyed me. Immensely,” Becka said. Then, she rolled her eyes in frustration, and she fell into step with him. “I really like that class, you know. Worse, now I’ll have to figure out by myself everything I missed. That means a lot of work and at least an entire afternoon wasted,” she complained.

“So now you resent me,” he replied in a low and flat tone.

“Why would you say that?” Becka turned to him, surprised at his odd reaction. “I was late even before I bumped into you. It’s not your fault at all. It’s just that I didn’t sleep much last night. Too many thoughts, you know how it is. And this morning, I had a bit of a slow start to my day. That’s all.”

Bryan nodded. He understood that she didn’t blame or begrudge him for it. However, more than anything, he was content because Becka still allowed him to hold her hand.

“What kind of thoughts could keep a young girl like you awake?” he asked in a condescending tone of voice.

She scowled at him, turned her nose up, and said peevishly, “The kind of thoughts I can’t share with you.”

“Hmm,” Bryan mumbled but let the subject drop. The woman seemed determined not to say anything, and he didn’t want to push his way in too forcefully and scare her away.

“By the way, I know an Italian restaurant by the lake,” Bryan told Becka and squeezed her fingers. “They have a delightful terrace overlooking the lake and a gorgeous view. I should also mention that they serve original Italian food. I’ve heard it’s an unforgettable experience.”

“I’d love it,” she looked up at him, and a broad smile appeared on her lips. “But are you sure we can get a table at this hour? If the view and the food are so great, wouldn’t it be packed now?” Becka worried.

“Don’t worry, sweetie,” he waved her concern off. “I’ve already made reservations for us.”

“So, you were very sure about you or rather about me. You were sure that I’d come,” Becka murmured to herself, but Bryan heard her anyway.

“No, not at all,” he contradicted her. “Actually, I didn’t think you’d show up, but I’d have gone out for dinner anyway so...,” he shrugged.

“Do I seem so unreliable?” Becka asked touchily. She pulled her hand out of his, and that made him laugh.

He liked those little, illogical contradictions in her nature and found her funny.

“No, Becka, you don’t, but you do look too sweet and young for a man like me,” Bryan answered unapologetically even if her words amused him. He chose to be direct whenever he could.

“I am not so young,” she frowned at him. “I’ve told you I’m already nineteen, haven’t I?”

“Yes, you have. I know. But I’m almost thirty-two, practically a lifetime away. More importantly, I’ve seen much more of this life than you, and not all of it good,” he replied, and then he took her hand back into his and entwined his fingers with hers, making her shiver for a moment.

Both felt something like an electric shock run through their intertwined fingers, but neither dared to say anything. They glanced at each other briefly before Becka looked away, trying to mask what she was feeling.

After a few moments, she looked back at him, “I wouldn’t have thought you were so old.” Bryan’s brow rose doubtfully, and she hurried to correct herself. “Not that you’re old. You aren’t. But...”

The man started laughing heartily, and she stopped her explanations, turning her nose up childishly again.

“You’re so funny! And your fuse is so short! Amazingly, you get upset so easily. It’s refreshing to see someone so natural, not faking every emotion,” he said and squeezed her fingers gently.

“You should know it’s not a good idea to annoy me,” she started in force but left her statement at that.

“Or what, sweetie?” he asked a bit steely.

She stopped suddenly, glanced behind them, then back at him again with nervous eyes, and whispered, “I can’t tell you.”

“Now, you’ve made me curious. Really, really, curious. Are you with the mob or something?” Bryan asked her, only half-joking.

Nothing truly shocked him anymore, and he had learned to take everything in stride. However, he liked to know what he was up against, and the sooner, the better. His hide might not have worth too much, but it was his, and he had some attachment to it.

“What?” Becka cried out and stopped in her tracks for a second. His idea was so outrageous that her eyes widened to what seemed the size of small saucers.

Becka couldn’t believe her ears. She wouldn’t have ever imagined that someone would ask her such a question, and she was afraid Bryan was making fun of her.

“Well, you just threatened me...” he started speaking, but she interrupted him at once.

“I didn’t threaten you, you, blockhead! I merely warned you,” she replied with real anger in her voice this time, but he didn’t seem to care.

“The same thing,” he shrugged nonchalantly.

“No, it isn’t,” she insisted. “That’s not the same thing. And I haven’t said anything about the mob. Where did you get such an idea?” she asked in a biting tone of voice.

He glanced at her and saw her face was turning purple. “But you warned me not to annoy you,” Bryan tried to approach the matter logically and calm Becka down at the same time. Her temper was rising.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean...”

“I understand a threat when I hear one, Becka,” he interrupted her forcefully this time. There was no trace of playfulness in his voice anymore. “So, what are you going to do to me? Murder me in my sleep?”

“Are you mocking me?” she scowled at his questions and the tone of his voice.

“No, I’m dead serious. I might have a worthless hide, but it’s still attached to my back, you know,” Bryan replied in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, echoing his earlier thoughts.

“Wait! What do you mean when you say that you have a worthless hide?” Becka asked, confused, and for a moment, she forgot the subject of their discussion entirely.

“Just something someone told me,” Bryan replied softly, avoiding going into details.

“You know you shouldn’t trust people who say things like that,” Becka advised him wisely. “I might not know you, but you don’t seem worthless to me. At least, this is one thing I can do well. I’m a good judge of character. I can tell you’re much more complicated than you seem, and I would guess that you have a very speckled past. But you’re not worthless at all,” she said pensively, kindlier than she had been in their argument just moments ago.

“Wow, you do like to talk,” Bryan exclaimed when she finished delivering her lengthy speech. Mostly, her words humbled him, and he didn’t want to let her see it.

“You want me to shut up?” she replied, upset. “I can shut up. If it bothers you so much, I can stop talking altogether. It’s not a problem for me.”

“No, not at all,” he pulled her closer to him and squeezed her fingers tenderly. “I actually like the sound of your voice. It’s not one of those voices that sounds like a chime and grates my ears. It’s got a low pitch, almost throaty, sexy, I could say. Although, I’m pretty sure that mouth of yours would be good at other things, too, not just talking,” he added with measured nonchalance. At the same time, he watched her. He wanted to see her reaction to such a blunt suggestion.

Shocked, Becka looked up at him for a few moments, and her eyes widened again. Then she started walking faster, to leave behind what he had just said, but she forgot about their laced fingers that wouldn’t allow her an easy escape. Bryan laughed and matched his stride to hers.

“Come on, don’t act like a little virgin. No one is so innocent these days,” he tried to smooth her ruffled feathers.

“It’s not about being innocent, you a*s! It’s our first date,” Becka snapped back and rolled her eyes.

“So? Do you follow the rules? A kiss on the first date, a longer one and first base for the second, and s*x on the third?”

“I don’t follow any rules. I don’t know any rules. But if there are any, then you can forget about getting any kiss today or tomorrow or the day after,” Becka replied furiously.

“Why? Am I being punished?” he asked, a quiet chuckle betraying his teasing interest.

Becka scoffed at his words, “As if I cared to punish you. It’s about what I feel and what I want.”

“And you feel nothing when it comes to me. Is that what you’re saying?” Bryan asked her, more curious about her opinion of him so far than at all disappointed with the thought. It wasn’t as if he’d gotten his hopes up for a relationship only to find out that he didn’t measure up.

“I didn’t say that, so, please, don’t put words into my mouth.”

“Then what did you say?” he insisted.

“That it might be a possibility. I actually don’t appreciate what you said. It was coarse, and you know it. I think you did it on purpose only I don’t know why.”

He waited to see what else she had to say. He found her more fascinating than he thought she would be, especially for someone so young.

“You know what? Let’s have dinner, change the subject, and maybe you’ll get that kiss,” she replied cheerfully, trying to appease both of them and save the evening.

“I’m not a child to bribe me with candy, Becka,” Bryan replied evenly, scowling at her.

“Ugh!” she growled. “You’re impossible. You choose to misunderstand everything I’m saying.”

“Why? Because I don’t let you treat me as you’d treat the children you normally date?” Bryan retorted.

Becka stopped and turned to him in disbelief yet again. “You know what, Bryan? I think you’ve got a complex, and it’s a big one. You have a big chip on your shoulder, don’t you? I don’t understand, though. If our age gap stresses you so much, why did you ask me out? You should have played it safe and spared yourself the trouble of putting up with a child,” she ended her tirade almost shouting, and a slight breeze ruffled the leaves in the trees.

Bryan didn’t say anything for a few moments. However, he had to admit that the woman had a point. He decided not to let her see that she touched a nerve, afraid that she might guess what he thought. So, Bryan continued to stare her down, but his action didn’t have the desired effect. Becka didn’t back down.

“I don’t have a complex,” he replied stubbornly after a few seconds. “But I don’t like to be patted on the head like some five-year-old, either. I don’t like to hear that if I’m a good boy, I’ll get a cookie.”

“Oh, really? And you think I’m going to believe you?”

The man let her comment hang in the air for a few moments, unsure what to believe of her. She seemed in challenging mode, and that didn’t seem plausible.

“You’re a little hellion, Becka. I’m almost twice your size...”

“What’s that got to do with anything? Unless you intend to fight me?” she asked.

She seemed to want to know how the dispute would end, and considering her tone of voice, the woman half-challenged him and half-warned him off.

Bryan laughed heartily, brought her hand to his lips, and kissed her fingers.

“Of course, not. Don’t be silly. You only astonish me. Usually, women are more careful around me,” he replied, amused.

“How come?” Becka asked.

“Well, if you want to know, most of them avoid me. But no woman has ever threatened me or provoked me as you do,” he said, watching her as if she were an odd exhibit in a museum.

“Oh, for God’s sake,” Becka snapped, throwing her hands into the air dramatically. “I haven’t threatened you. Can’t you get it through your thick skull?”

Bryan opened his mouth to say something, but she reached up and covered his mouth with her palm. At the same time, she shook her head to stop him from adding anything else to what he had already said. He obeyed mutely and merely watched her.

“Could we leave it at that, Bryan? Believe me. It was not a threat, okay. Maybe, one day, I’ll tell you what’s all that about, but not today, okay?”

“Okay, not a threat,” he said after Becka took her hand off his mouth.

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