“Are you ready for the surprise?” he asks as I walk into the room from the bathroom. I am wearing my black tank dress, as well as my rarely worn—because they are so expensive—Louboutin’s, I also borrowed Bella’s black clutch. I can get my phone in it but that is about it. Not for the first time today, I wonder where he is taking me. I smile at him. We are clearly walking to our destination. There is not much use for driving on Key West. There is nowhere to park. I keep my hand in his. Looking up at him from the side, I see that he is smiling too.
“So… Do you have any hobbies or anything? Besides being an Eagle Scout.” My fiancé surprised me with that fact when I found a medal in the closet for it. Despite living together, between work and the serious amount of sex we have, there hasn’t been much time for anything else. Here and there, something new comes up, but this is really the first time we’ve not had any distractions.
“No hobbies, per se. I used to binge-watch everything on Netflix, but mostly I work a lot, as you already know. I have been fiddling with a lot of designs, but I think I have got the next one ready to present.” I will be the first to admit that since we’ve gotten together, we have not made the time to watch TV. Other sexier matters usually need attending too.
“Really?” I am surprised by this because just a few weeks ago, he had not even started yet.
“Yes. I am determined to have it finished before the baby comes. I want to be able to take some time off and be with you and Cletus,” he says, squeezing my hand.
“Cletus?” I ask, confused. It is way too soon to know the sex of the baby yet, and I am not in love with the name Cletus.
“Cletus the Fetus,” he says without a hint of amusement. I, on the other hand, lose my shit, laughing like a hyena.
“You have got to be kidding me,” I finally manage to say.
“Completely serious. Besides, it has a nice ring to it.”
“I have been thinking of it as our Belly Bean,” I say.
“Both are perfectly acceptable until we name it.”
“Have you been thinking of names?” I ask.
“No. I do not want to rush any bit of this process. I think we should enjoy every single moment of it.”
“I agree.”
As we leave the parking lot, he turns right and heads to the main drag—Duval Street. We walk about two blocks. The white building of La Trattoria becomes our apparent destination. It’s my favorite restaurant in Key West. Every year, my family vacations in Miami, and we always end up here too. Entering the restaurant, we go right up to the hostess stand.
“Reservation for O’Neal,” he says to the girl.
“Ah, Mr. O’Neal, right this way.” She leads us to a booth near the kitchen. He holds my chair out for me. He’s such a gentleman. The hostess waits until he sits down and hands each of us a menu. “Stephanie will be your server. She will be with you in a moment. Please enjoy your dinner,” she says with a smile. Before she leaves, she looks Brendan over one last time.
“This is my favorite restaurant,” I say.
“I know. Bella told me. As you know, I love Italian food, and this was close to the hotel, but this is not the surprise.”
“Oh, it is not? Okay, I will admit, I am intrigued now.”
“It will be fun, I promise,” he says as the waitress approaches.
“Hi guys, I am Stephanie. Can I start you with some drinks or an appetizer?” I do not like the way she stares at me like I have two heads or something.
“I would like a glass of sparkling water,” I say.
“Sure thing,” she says as she writes it down. “And for you, sir?”
“I will have a bourbon and Coke. Thanks. And some bruschetta to start. Is that good for you, Brynn?” he asks, looking at me.
“Sure,” I say brightly.
“Coming right up.”
“So, what do you do for fun, Brynn. You know when I am not around?” His full attention is on me. Every so often, we ask each other random questions to get to know each other more. Is it weird to be totally in love but not yet know everything about one another? It might be, but who cares?
“I read, watch HGTV, binge watch stuff on Netflix too, and I bake.”
“Really? I know you cook, but you haven’t baked anything yet. What do you bake?” Typical guy. Straight to his stomach.
“If it is bake-able, I will make it,” I say honestly with a vibrant smile.
“I must admit; I have a bit of a sweet tooth,” he says, winking at me.