Jake Undone(50)

“I can relate to that,” he said looking down, playing with his straw again.

“What do you mean?”

“Much needed light during a dark time…being on the receiving end of that.”

Then, he looked straight up at me suddenly. I didn’t fully understand what he meant, but before I could ask what he was referring to, our food had arrived.

I gasped when the waitress set my plate in front of me. “Okay, this burger is bigger than my head.”

He chuckled. “Don’t worry. Whatever you don’t finish, I’ll eat.”

Our hands collided when we both reached for the salt at the same time. Even a split second of touching him sent a shock wave through me.

As usual, we ate in comfortable silence, and the sounds he made while devouring the burger reminded me of his reaction to my desserts. He definitely let it be known when he was truly enjoying something.

The shake was so thick I could barely get it through the straw.

“You need to suck on it harder,” he said with a smirk, wiggling his eyebrows.

He was the king of sexual innuendos. I usually didn’t play along but was in a different kind of a mood today. “I guess my mouth is just out of practice.”

He nearly choked on his own shake and that topic of conversation pretty much ended there.

Suddenly embarrassed at my boldness, I changed the subject. “So, you asked me why I decided to become a nurse. Why did you choose engineering?”

“From a young age, I liked to take things apart and put them back together. So, I guess it was the field that fit the bill.”

So, when he rips my heart out, he’ll be able to fix it.

I looked down at his sexy arms. “I am sure you get asked this all the time, but what are the meanings behind your tattoos, like the dragon, for example? That’s my favorite one.”

Squinting his eyes sarcastically, he said, “No…no one ever asks me that!” He chuckled. “Seriously, though, nothing profound. Everyone thinks there’s got to be some fucking deep meaning behind ink, but I just thought the dragon looked cool. The same goes for these.” He pointed to his right arm that sported various Celtic and tribal markings, along with crosses, roses and other artwork. “All meaningless, except for this one right here, the moon with my father’s initials on it. I got most of these when I was a teenager.”

I reached across the table and rubbed my index finger over the half moon tattoo that had the letters A.B.G. surrounding it.

“What does it stand for?”

“Alan Boyd Green.”

“What does the moon mean?”

He looked down at my finger, which was still brushing against his arm and said, “My Dad used to say this thing to me before he left the house or tucked me in at night. I would tell him I loved him then he would say he loved me too. But I would always ask him how much. He would say, ‘to the moon…I love you to the moon.’”

“That is so incredibly sweet.”

He was staring out the window. “Sometimes, I look up at the moon at night and think of him. I know that’s fucking cheesy…but I do.”

“I think that’s beautiful.”

I think you are beautiful too, and God help me, I want to kiss you so badly right now.

“He was this big biker dude, you know? But he had a heart of gold, and he would have been a great father to have growing up.” He lifted his thumb, pointing to the band he always wore around it. “This was my Dad’s wedding ring, actually.”

Wow.

“He knew that you loved him, Jake. I regret not telling my brother I loved him more like that.”

“We all have things we regret…decisions we make that we have to live with. You can’t dwell on them and beat yourself up for it. It doesn’t change anything.”

We stayed in that diner booth for at least three hours. We played more music from the jukebox, and I told Jake stories about growing up in the boonies; he couldn’t believe I actually drove a tractor and said he’d pay money if I let him come home and watch. He joked that he would pay more if I did it in a bikini.

Then, we shared a huge slice of “death by chocolate” cake. He had asked me if I wanted to go explore more of Chicago, but there was something so peaceful about this nostalgic place. I told him I preferred to just hang out here until we had to head back to the airport.

The sun had set, and the evening dinner crowd started to fill Bernie’s. Every time the bell on the door chimed, it reminded me I was one step closer to getting back on another plane. The anxiety started to build up again.

I took the last bite of cake, and with my mouth full, said, “This day really surprised me. I had no clue what you had in store, but it turned out to be one of the best days I’ve had in a really long time. To think I was dreading it. Now, I just have get through the flight home.”