Николас Спаркс - The Choice

“Just give me a few minutes to change?”

While Travis got the coals going, Gabby checked on Molly, finding her sleeping soundly along with the puppies.

She took a quick shower before changing into a light cotton skirt and blouse. After drying her hair, she debated whether to put on makeup, then decided on just a bit of mascara. The sun had given her face some color, and when she stepped back from the mirror, it occurred to her that it had been years since she’d last had dinner with a man other than Kevin.

A case could be made that it was simply a continuation of the day, or that she’d been tricked into dinner by Stephanie, but she knew that neither was completely true.

Still, was her decision to have dinner with Travis something she should feel guilty about, perhaps even conceal from Kevin? Her first impulse was to insist that she’d have no reason not to tell Kevin. The day had been harmless—technically, she’d spent more time with Stephanie than she had with Travis. So what was the big deal?

You’re dining alone tonight, of course, a little voice whispered.

But was that really a problem? Stephanie had been right: She was hungry again, and her neighbor had food. Human Necessity 101. It wasn’t as though she were going to sleep with him. She had no intention of even kissing him. They were friends, that’s all. And if Kevin were here, she was sure that Travis would have invited him along, too.

But he’s not here, the voice insisted. Will you tell Kevin about your little dinner for two?

“Definitely. I’ll definitely tell him,” she muttered, trying to quiet the little voice. There were times when she absolutely hated the little voice. The little voice sounded like her mother.

Thus decided, she looked at herself one last time in the mirror and, pleased with what she saw, slipped out the patio door and started across the lawn.

As Gabby weaved her way between the hedges and appeared at the edge of the lawn, Travis caught the movement from the corner of his eye and found himself staring unabashedly as she approached. When she stepped onto the deck, he felt a strange shift in the atmosphere, catching him off guard.

“Hey,” she said simply. “How long until dinner?”

“A couple of minutes,” he answered. “Your timing is perfect.”

She peeked at the skewered shrimp and brightly colored peppers and onions. As if on cue, her stomach grumbled. “Wow,” she murmured, hoping he didn’t hear it. “They look great.”

“Do you want anything to drink?” He gestured toward the opposite end of the deck. “I think there’s some beer and soda left over in the cooler.”

As she crossed the deck, Travis tried to ignore the gentle sway of her hips, wondering what had gotten into him. He watched as she flipped open the lid, rummaged through the cooler, and pulled out two beers. When she returned to hand him one, he felt her fingers graze his. He twisted open the cap and took a long pull, looking down the line of the bottle at her. In the silence, she stared at the water. The sun, hovering over the tree line, was still bright, but its heat had diminished and shadows were gradually stretching across the lawn.

“This is why I bought my place,” she finally said. “For views like this.”

“It’s gorgeous, isn’t it?” He realized that he was watching her as he said it and forced away the subconscious implications. He cleared his throat. “How’s Molly?”

“She seems fine. She was sleeping when I checked on her.” She looked around. “Where’s Moby?”

“I think he wandered around the front. He got bored with my cooking once he realized I wasn’t about to offer him any scraps.”

“He eats shrimp?”

“He eats anything.”

“Discriminating,” she said with a wink. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Not really. Unless you want to grab some plates from the kitchen.”

“Be happy to.” She nodded. “Where are they, exactly?”

“In the cupboard to the left of the sink. Oh, and the pineapple, too. It’s on the counter. And the knife. It should be right there.”

“Be back in a minute.”

“And would you mind bringing some silverware, too? It’s in the drawer near the dishwasher.”

As soon as she turned to enter the house, Travis found himself studying her. There was definitely something about Gabby that interested him. It wasn’t simply that she was attractive; there were pretty women everywhere. There was something about her straightforward intelligence and unforced humor that suggested a grounded sense of right and wrong. Beauty and earthy common sense were a rare combination, yet he doubted she was even aware she possessed it.

By the time she emerged, the kabobs were ready. He loaded a couple on each plate along with some slices of pineapple, and they took their seats at the table. Beyond them, the slow-moving creek reflected the sky like a mirror, the stillness broken only by a flock of starlings passing overhead.

“This is delicious,” she said.

“Thank you.”

She took a sip of her beer and motioned to the boat. “Are you going out again tomorrow?”

“I don’t think so. Tomorrow I’ll probably go riding.”

“Horseback riding?”

He shook his head. “Motorcycle. When I was in college, I bought a beat-up 1983 Honda Shadow with the goal of restoring it and turning it around for a quick profit. Let’s just say it wasn’t quick, and I doubt I’ll ever make a profit. But I can say I did all the work myself.”

“That must be rewarding.”

“ Pointless is probably a better word. It’s not very practical, since it has a tendency to break down and genuine parts are almost impossible to find. But isn’t that the price of owning a classic?”

The beer was going down easy, and she took another drink. “I have no idea. I don’t even change my own oil.”

“Have you ever gone riding?”

“No. Too dangerous.”

“Danger depends more on the rider and the conditions than the bike.”

“But yours breaks down.”

“True. But I like to live life on the edge.”

“I’ve noticed that about your personality.”

“Is that good or bad?”

“Neither. But it’s definitely unpredictable. Especially when I try to reconcile it with the fact that you’re a veterinarian. It’s such a stable-sounding profession. When I think of veterinarians, I automatically think family man, complete with an apron-wearing wife and kids visiting the orthodontist.”

“In other words, boring. Like the most exciting thing I should do is golf.”

She thought of Kevin. “There are worse things.”

“Just to let you know, I am a family man.” Travis shrugged. “Except for the family part.”

“That’s kind of a prerequisite, don’t you think?”

“I think that being a family man is more about having the proper worldview than the actual condition of having a family.”

“Nice try.” She squinted at him, feeling the effects of the beer. “I’m not sure I could ever imagine you being married. Somehow, it just doesn’t seem to fit you. You seem more like the dating lots of women, perpetual bachelor kind of guy.”

“You’re not the first person to say that to me. In fact, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you spent too much time listening to my friends today.”

“They were very flattering.”

“That’s why I take them on the boat.”

“And Stephanie?”

“She’s an enigma. But she’s also my sister, so what can I do? Like I said, I’m a family-oriented guy.”

“Why do I get the feeling you’re trying to impress me?”

“Maybe I am. Tell me about your boyfriend. Is he a family man, too?”

“None of your business,” she said.