Defining Moments (9 page)

I can tell already I could be friends with Sami. She has that genuine feel about her.

“Ellie. It’s nice to meet you, Sami,” I smile brightly at her. She looks at Cord and nods, like giving her approval, which makes me freak out a little on the inside.

“Well, now that you’ve met basically my whole family,” Cord says with humor in his tone, “can you all take a hike so we can enjoy our dinner?”

They all say goodbye and walk away, and I watch as Cord’s face goes from happy and smiling, to concerned and maybe a little scared.

“Sorry about that. If I’d known they would all be here, I’d have prepared you for that,” he begins. “They just aren’t used to me coming here for dinner with anyone else.”

I snap my eyes up to his, ready to question him further about that, when I notice he is staring at a picture on the wall with a faraway look on his face. I glance at the picture and see it’s a painting of a beautiful woman holding a large bouquet of flowers.

The moment feels too intimate for a dinner between friends, so I know I need to change the conversation quickly.

“So, Cord, do you know what MILF means?” I ask quickly.

And once again, Cord is taking a drink at that very moment, inhales sharply, and begins to cough and choke again.

Nice, Ellie.

I jump up to pat his back again, but he holds up his hand to stop me, and I can’t make out if he is laughing or trying to say something in between the coughs.

When the coughing finally settles down, he is definitely laughing.

“Did you just ask me if I know what a MILF is?” he snorts out.

“Yes, I did. Eli said something about it the other day but wouldn’t tell me what it meant. Said I’d have to Google it, but I keep forgetting to,” I smile, thankful I’ve managed to change his mood.

“What did Eli say?” he asks, still laughing.

“I’m not telling you unless you tell me what it means,” I retort.

“I don’t know if you really want to know that, Ellie.”

“I do want to know.”

“It doesn’t mean anything. It stands for something,” he laughs out.

“Okay, smarty-pants, what does it stand for?”

He watches my face closely, smiles, and replies, “Mother I’d like to fuck.”

And I immediately feel my face turn bright red and I lower my face into my hands. I hear Cord laughing, but I can’t bring myself to look up.

“And I’m going to guess from your reaction that you really didn’t know what that meant,” he chuckles.

I shake my head without looking up at him.

“Now, tell me what Eli said about a MILF,” he snorts when he says the word again.

“Oh no, no way. It’s too embarrassing,” I chide.

“Let me guess. One of your boys said something about one of their friend’s moms and referred to her as a MILF,” he implores. “Am I right?”

I shake my head and point my finger to my chest.

“He said his friends think I’m a MILF,” I choke out, and then laugh hysterically.

But I don’t hear laughter from him, so when my eyes meet his and find him staring at me with such a serious face, I’m afraid I upset him somehow.

“What’s wrong?” I ask him quickly.

He shakes his head like he’s clearing the cobwebs, and asks, “Why is that so funny, Ellie?”

“Look, Cord, I don’t kid myself into thinking I’m attractive to young men. I’m almost thirty-nine years old and have the body of a woman with three children. I’m sure the boys’ friends were just trying to get a rise out of them, which I’m sure worked. They are very protective of me,” I tell him.

He doesn’t smile, but assesses me like he’s waiting for me to cry or something.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask.

“You really have no idea how beautiful you are, Ellie,” he replies with a small grin. I shake my head gently.

“Well, thank you,” I say with no feeling, quickly trying to figure out how to change the subject. “So, why do you go by Cord instead of Saint?” I question.

He smiles and shakes his head, knowing I’m uncomfortable and changing the conversation.

“When we were kids, we all got picked on a lot for our names,” he begins. “I eventually got tired of it and started going by Cord.” He doesn’t meet my eyes when he says this and it makes me wonder if he’s telling me the whole truth.

“And so when were you going to tell me you were the owner of the restaurant?” I smirk at him.

“I was going to tell you tonight at dinner, but I figured Bishop and Lil Bit let the cat out of the bag when they called me Saint,” he laughs. It’s not lost on me that he says Sami’s nickname with adoration. They must be close.

“Little Bit?” I smirk.

“Yeah, as if you can’t tell, she’s the tiniest thing, but don’t let that fool you. She’s a force to be reckoned with.”

I have no doubt about that. Bishop seems like a lot to handle.

“Have they been together a long time?” I ask timidly.

“Long enough to produce the five most beautiful little girls you could ever lay your eyes on,” he laughs.

“Holy shit, they have five girls?” I choke out.

He laughs while shaking his head.

“Lord help that woman. How old are they?” I ask with genuine curiosity.

“Well, the twins, Anna and Bella, are five. Rilee is three. Tessa is two, and the baby, Amaya, is seven months.” His smile is off the charts.

“Wow. Five kids five and under. She’s got her hands full,” I laugh.

“She sure does. They both do. Bishop is going to lose his mind when those girls are all teenagers,” he snorts.

I nod my head in agreeance. We both take sips of our wine and nibble on the appetizers and salads. It dawns on me that we didn’t order a meal yet.

“Are we ordering dinner too?” I ask.

“I already ordered for us,” he smiles at my frown. “Don’t worry. Ben mentioned you don’t eat meat. I ordered you a vegetarian pasta dish.”

I nod and smile.

“So, Ellie, tell me about you,” Cord questions.

“What do you want to know?”

“Well, you have three sons. Where’s their dad?” he inquires.

I take a deep breath, because I’m not really sure how much I want to tell him about the drama that unfolded.

“We’re divorced. He lives on the other side of the city,” I reply vaguely.

“And how long have you guys been divorced?”

“Officially divorced for almost three months, but separated for six months before that,” I tell him, showing as little emotion as possible.

I watch as shock registers on his face, followed by what I can only describe as anger.

“Wait, so you were married a really long time, and then you guys just got divorced this year?”

“Yep. We were married twenty-one years,” I start to explain. “I was a stay-at-home mom the whole time. Justin is an executive in the fitness industry. One day, he came home after the boys had left for school and informed me he no longer loved me and was moving out. Six months later, he announced he was shacked up with a twenty-five-year-old fitness model who was pregnant with his baby. We divorced quickly and now they’re getting married. End of story.” I leave out the little tidbit about Justin “needing more.” I’ll take that one to my grave.

He shakes his head and looks furious.

“What a dick,” he rants.

I laugh out loud and smile at him. “Oh, Cord, you have no idea, but I can’t regret any of it or I wouldn’t have my boys.”

“Well, your ex is an idiot for letting you go,” he responds with a wink.

“Please. You don’t even know me. I could be a psychotic bitch and you wouldn’t even know it yet,” I argue.

“Nah, I’m a pretty good judge of character. It’s actually gotten me pretty far in life,” he remarks while looking back at the picture on the wall.

“What about you, Cord? What’s your story?” I question him.

“Nope, let’s finish up with you. What about parents and siblings?” he asks with genuine interest.

“My parents are still together, still live in the same house I grew up in, in Philly, and I’m an only child.” I shake my head, realizing it’s been a while since I spoke to my parents. It’s probably time for a visit.

“So, tell me about your family, Cord,” I request.

“Let’s see. I come from a big family. You’ve met my sister and one of my brothers. I have another brother, Deacon, who’s in the military and stationed overseas right now. I don’t get to speak to him often. Our parents are still happily married and retired in Florida. I own Saint, as you now know, and currently live in an apartment while my house is being built,” he finishes.

“Ah, that answers why you own three expensive cars and live in a tiny apartment,” I laugh out.

He nods, smiling over at me. “I’ve lived there for about six months, and let me tell you, I’m ready for some peace and quiet. You haven’t met the little shit who lives below me yet, but you’ll hear his music soon enough. He plays in a band and practices in the middle of the night. I’ve been tempted to kick his ass a few times,” he fumes. I can see the topic is pissing him off, so I change it.

“So, you know I’m almost thirty-nine. How old are you?” I ask.

He smiles a huge smile before replying, “How old do you think I am?”

“If I had to guess, I’d think around my age, maybe a little younger,” I answer.

He laughs lightly before replying again. “I’m forty-two.”

This surprises me and he must see it on my face because he quirks an eyebrow at me.

“What? Don’t like old guys?” he laughs.

“Okay, first of all, forty-two isn’t old. That’s only three years older than me. But you don’t look remotely near forty-two. I swear, men just get better looking with age and women just look old.” I watch his face for his reaction.

He throws his head back and laughs, just as a waiter walks up with our entrees. It smells and looks amazing.

I don’t wait for him to respond before I’m diving into my pasta. It’s like heaven and I can’t stop the moan that comes from my lips. I hear him chuckle and look up as he takes his first bite.

I just roll my eyes and continue eating this amazing dinner.

We make small talk in between sipping wine and eating dinner. The time flies by so quickly I don’t even notice we’ve been here for more than three hours. I hear my phone chime in my purse and pull it out to check it.

Ben: Where the hell are you, Ma?

Me: Simmer down. We are still at the restaurant. We’re eating and chatting. I promise to text you when we leave.

Before I even hit send, I hear Cord’s phone vibrate, and watch as a smile spreads across his face. It makes me wonder who could make him light up like that.

“It seems I’ve had you out too long,” he chuckles.

“Why would you say that?” I ask, shaking my head and watching as he slowly hands me his phone.

BigBen: You better still be at the restaurant. Keep your hands to yourself.

I snort and then laugh because I snorted, and then I can’t help but continue because this is just ridiculous. I watch as Cord responds.

Cord: No worries, kid. I’ll have her home by midnight.

I look up at him and he winks.

BigBen: Fuck that! She better be home in the next half hour or I’m coming to the restaurant.

I can’t help but chuckle until I see Cord’s face fall. Shit, I hope he’s not offended.

“I’ll take care of this,” I tell him.

Me: Benjamin Charles! I am a grown-ass woman and I’ll come home when I’m ready. Stop threatening Cord! We are talking and having a good time. He’s been a complete gentleman. I’ll be home later. Stop worrying!

I look up to see that Cord is watching what I’m typing. His eyes meet mine and he smiles.

Cord’s phone vibrates and he smiles when he looks at it, before turning it to me so I can see Ben’s text.

BigBen: I apologize. I just worry about her. Please continue to be a gentleman.

I smile at him, because I know he is just a loving son, worried about his newly single mom.

“It makes my heart full to know your boys love you and worry about you so much, Ell,” he says and I cringe at the nickname, before he asks, “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Ellie. I hate the nickname Ell. Only Justin calls me that, and it’s like a bad memory now,” I tell him gently.

“Noted. No Ell,” he responds with understanding. “So is Ellie short for something?”

“Yep, it’s short for Eleanor. Although no one has called me that since I was little, except my parents,” I answer with a smile.

He nods in understanding, but I can see something is bothering him.

“Don’t sweat it, Cord,” I tell him with a smile. I don’t want him to think he’s upset me.

We continue to chat and I have two more glasses of wine, while Cord changes to water after one glass. I like that.

When we finally decide it’s time to go, I realize we’ve been here for four hours. I text Ben and tell him we are on our way back to the apartment.

Angelica hugs Cord as we get up to leave, and I can tell they are a close family. She shakes my hand and is polite, but sense that she wants to say something more. I excuse myself to use the ladies’ room before we leave.

As I’m finishing up washing my hands, I hear the door open and look up to see Angelica coming in.

“This place is amazing, Angelica,” I tell her with a smile. She returns the smile, but it’s sad.

“Look, Ellie, you seem like a nice enough lady, so I’m going to just cut the bullshit. My brother has been through a lot and he doesn’t need any more drama,” she professes.

I’m shocked at her statement. In the past few hours, Cord has said nothing to me about drama. It makes me wonder what she means.

“We are just friends, actually. I just met him yesterday,” I reply.

“Friends or not, you are the first person he’s shown any interest in since his wife died. Please don’t hurt him,” she implores, and my heart drops into my stomach. It dawns on me that I haven’t asked him if he’s ever been married or what his relationship status is. I don’t want it to be obvious that I didn’t know about his wife.

“Look, Angelica, I just came out of a twenty-one-year marriage and have no plans to get into a relationship anytime soon. I enjoy Cord’s company, though, and I think we could be great friends. I’d never hurt him intentionally,” I tell her.