He was totally checking me out. I made a mental note to thank Emma and Victoria for their hard work on my appearance.
“Kristia,” he said after he crossed to the driver’s side and climbed in. “You look delightful this evening. Absolutely angelic.” He clicked his seatbelt. “Are you sure you want to spend time with a rogue like me?” Beneath his smile was a serious undertone.
“Rogue, huh? I guess that explains the staring.” I looked pointedly at my chest and giggled as the tops of Ull’s ears turned pink. His grimace was the last dark look I saw that night. He seemed to have made a decision, though I couldn’t guess at what it was.
He glanced at my dress with a wry chuckle. “So I guess ice skating is out.”
I panicked, trying to remember if he’d mentioned wanting to do something sporty.
“We can go back – I can change; it’s–” His laughter stopped me.
“I was teasing you, Kristia. We can skate another time. I would much rather you wear that dress.” His smolder left a warm tingling in the lower half of my stomach. He reached out to hold my hand and the tingling burst into flames. Desperately hoping he couldn’t hear my pulse, I took slow, deep breaths. We were two minutes into this date. I didn’t want to give him any reason to go back to avoiding me.
“Right. Another time,” I said lightly. Another date with Ull. I had to start the deep breathing all over again. Two and a half minutes into this and I was two for two on hyperventilation. I’d have to start pacing myself. After all, I still wasn’t completely convinced that Nice Ull was the real thing. And there was no point in going all ga-ga over someone who might not even exist.
Ull drove toward the center of town, at ease in the driver’s seat. I tried to focus on his words as he pointed out Cardiff’s considerable highlights, but quickly got lost in the commanding tenor of his voice. I forced myself to really look at the sights, and by the time Ull pulled up in front of Cardiff Castle, I was finally able to hear him. He didn’t move to get out of the car, so I re-crossed my ankles and stared at the ancient fortress from the passenger’s seat.
“Cardiff has the highest concentration of castles in the world. This one dates back two thousand years, though of course, it has undergone many revisions. You just missed the Medieval Mêlée. People dress in costumes; they hold sword-fighting contests on the green, serve turkey legs, and play silly games. I went as a jester this year.”
I tried to picture Ull Myhr dressed as a clown, but came up short.
“It is nice to walk the castle wall,” he went on. “You can see the niches in the stone where guards used to keep their fires on cold nights. We can do that another time – too late today. The castle closes at six.” As fascinating as the wall sounded, the only thing I took from this was that Ull wanted to go out again. Score one, Tostenson.
Ull eased into traffic, and his excitement grew as he pointed out Millennium Stadium. His eyes shone as he described some of his favorite matches – he was both a football and rugby regular, and he glanced wistfully at the stadium when he spoke. It was weird to imagine him doing something so ordinary as watching sports. Maybe he did have a normal side.
Ull glanced at the clock and drove purposefully toward our next destination. The sun was low in the sky as he gestured towards the docks that had made Cardiff a major port for coal transport in the 19
th
Century, and pointed in the direction of the Arcade, a collection of shops varying from couture to cafes. Naturally, Starbucks was well represented here, too.
My head started to spin from the light pressure of Ull’s hand on mine, so I resumed my deep breathing to keep myself in check. If this kept up, I was going to have to take up yoga. Yogis were good deep breathers, weren’t they?
Finally, Ull turned off the main road and parked in a small lot. Without a word, he got out of the car and retrieved something from the trunk. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to get out too – were we going for a walk or was he just checking on something back there? But it felt weird to ask, so after a minute, I unbuckled my seatbelt and swung open my door. It reverberated as it hit an obstruction.
“Ouch!” Ull dropped whatever he was carrying and grabbed his arm.
“Sorry, sorry! I didn’t realize you were there!” Oh my God. I’d nailed him with my door. And from the way he was rubbing his arm, I’d nailed him
really hard
. This was beyond mortifying.
“It seems I did not open your door fast enough,” Ull joked as he stooped to pick up the blanket and basket I’d knocked out of his arms.
“My door? Oh.” He’d wanted to open my car door. Like in a movie. How had I made it eighteen years and not realized guys actually did that? “Oh Ull.” I grabbed his red forearm. “I really got you.”
“All in the line of duty.” He took my hand. “This way, my lady.”
We stopped at the top of the small knoll. The garden easily stretched the length of two football fields, pink, yellow, and purple flowers layering the ground with their thick carpet. Trees swathed in fuchsia petals swayed softly, and a lush covering of grass wove in and out of the flowers. In the distance, a white-columned memorial evoked images of Ancient Greece. It was spectacular.
“Where are we?”
“Alexandra Gardens. Named for Alexandra of Denmark, who became the longest running Welsh Princess.” Ull glanced at me from under thick lashes. “This is one of my favorite places in Cardiff.”
Ull led me down the knoll and laid the blanket on a grassy spot beneath one of the fuchsia trees. He opened the picnic basket and I wanted to ask him a million questions. He beat me to it as he handed me a bottle of sparkling water.
“Are you enjoying the city so far?” He opened an assortment of tapas for my perusal and helped himself to an olive before leaning back on one elbow.
“Yes.” I looked down to give myself time to think of something to say. His beautiful form stretched across the blanket had emptied my mind of all coherent thought. He was overwhelming, in the best possible way – tall, blond, muscular, attentive. The combination made it difficult to form words. “Cardiff is so much cleaner than I’d imagined.” Cleaner? I struggled to recover. “I mean, London was beautiful too, but everything was so grey – grime on the buildings, you know? That was neat, and all, because it was London. But everything here is… uh…
white
.” I gestured to the memorial, pristine in its place of honor. “Even the sidewalks seem white. I guess I just expected everything to be dirty because it’s so big, but Cardiff’s even cleaner than Nehalem was – and with only three hundred people, it doesn’t get very dirty. Well, it gets dirty because it’s in the forest. You know, with dirt. And stuff. But not because of litter or anything.”
Oh my God. That was all out loud. All of it.
I shoved a slice of bread in my mouth to end my prattling.
It was a testament to Ull’s chivalry that he moved on without comment. “Tell me about Nehalem. What do you miss the most?” He leaned forward on his elbow, seemingly wanting to know.
“Oh gosh.” I wasn’t sure where to begin. When I was positive I wasn’t going to start in on another babble, I told him about my own favorite place. “Well, there’s this quiet spot off the main river. If you didn’t know it was there, you might never find it. My best friend Ardis and I spent a lot of time there and after she left for college in New York, I used to go by myself to read. Being there made it seem like she wasn’t so far away.”
“What about your parents?”
“What about them?” I countered before I could catch myself.
Ull had enough sense to keep quiet.
“My grandmother raised me – Mormor was my mom’s mom. My parents traveled a lot for their antique business. They were always on the lookout for new treasures for the shop.” I tried to keep my voice neutral. “They didn’t want a kid around to slow them down. So they passed me off to Mormor – she knew me way better than they ever did anyway. She taught me to tie my shoes, to bake cookies, to write thank you notes. Everything I know.” I stared at my folded hands. “She’s gone now; she passed away right after I started college.”
“You miss her.” It wasn’t a question.
“Terribly.”
Ull offered me a container with turkey, cheese, and crackers. As I made my little sandwich, he kept up his stream of questions.
“What are your favorite books?”
“Um…” I chewed, appreciating the change of subject. “I like Shakespeare.”
“Romeo and Juliet?” Ull chuckled.
“Much Ado About Nothing.” I blushed. “I always saw myself as an un-bitter Beatrice.”
“How so?”
“She’s so disillusioned with love, and doesn’t think she can count on anyone – that part’s not me at all. But she’s really independent, and she’s always looking out for her impetuous cousin. It’s sort of like Ardis and me. She’d always get herself into these situations because of her heart, and I would come along and clean up after her.”
“Sounds tough.”
“Not really. Ardis got into the scrapes; I just had to help her out of them.” I’d been busy as a stump-tailed horse in fly time, the way Ardis found trouble. “My part was much easier.”
“Always a little outside of life, Miss Tostenson?”
“I guess.” I felt my cheeks grow warm. It was easier to watch Ardis go through heartbreaks than to get hurt myself. But Ull didn’t need to know that.
“I know the feeling.” Ull’s response was wry. “Favorite movies?” He continued before I could ask what he meant.
“Um… Much Ado, again. Kenneth Branagh’s pretty fantastic.”
“Agreed.”
Ull continued as the sun set. He asked about my favorite foods, the music I listened to, and what I hoped to do after graduation. He listened patiently as I told him my dream of working as a junior curator in a museum, and leaned in as I talked about my favorite works of art. He seemed genuinely interested in the minor details of my life, and I told him a bit about the oddities of a small-town upbringing. Naturally, I omitted talk of my little mental tic – every dog had a few fleas, and mine were bound to show themselves soon enough.
By the time the sun dipped at the horizon, our picnic was mostly gone, and Ull offered me a container of brownies. He held up his sparkling water and clinked his bottle to mine.
“
Skål
,” he said. “Cheers. To new beginnings.” He winked at me with a smile so dazzling, I couldn’t help but stare.
The way his pale lips curved up, with just a hint of a smirk behind the smile… could they really be as soft as they looked? What would they feel like against my cheek? My mouth? My neck? I shivered involuntarily.
“Are you cold?”
I shook my head. “Everything is wonderful. I’m just… I’m a little overwhelmed. You’re –” I stumbled over the words, ducking behind my hair. “You’re kind of great when you’re being nice.”
“Be careful, Kristia Tostenson.” Ull brushed my hair behind my ear, trailing one finger along the curve of my neck. His touch was soft; the barely-there sensation of a light breeze that sent a chill down my spine. I resumed my deep, calming breaths in earnest. “You could choose much better company than me,” he continued. There was a warning behind his easy smile.
“I’m not sure I could,” I whispered into my water. Ull stared, deep in thought.
“I am afraid, neither could I,” he confessed. My heart soared – maybe he really
did
like me. We watched the horizon in silence as the sky turned from blue to orange to purple. As dusk settled over the garden, Ull packed up the remnants of our picnic and held out a hand to help me up. “To the next stop on our Grand Circle Tour.”
When Ull pulled up to the posh nightclub, a new kind of panic swept over me. I wasn’t graceful sitting still and dancing was definitely not my forte. But as he seemed to be with everything else, Ull was a natural, leading me around the club as if I’d been dancing all my life. This required that he hold me very close, and the contact was almost too much for my overworked brain. Although I’d spent the better part of the night feeling like I had a live wire tapped directly into my spine, I now felt so light-headed that thought I might float away. This combination meant I nearly fell on several occasions. If he noticed, Ull was gentlemanly enough not to say anything.
We left the nightclub much too soon, Ull’s fingers twined through mine. Our hands fit together, his long fingers cradling my smallish ones. The familiar gesture made me smile, and I scooted closer as we walked, letting my shoulder brush against his arm. It was so easy to be next to him. I felt a twinge of sadness thinking our date must be nearing its end. But when Ull helped me into his car, he treated me to another dazzling smile.
“Would you care to join me for a drink at my local?”
“Maybe. What’s a local?”
“Ah, Americans,” Ull chuckled. “Your local is your favorite pub. Mine happens to be around the corner from your flat. Shall we go together?”
“Yes, please.”
Minutes later, we sat in the dimly-lit, wood-paneled room in the quiet pub. We were tucked away in a corner booth opposite the roaring fire. Ull had slid into the seat next to me rather than across from me. His arm rested around my shoulders, so I had no choice but to lean into him in the small space. It was another familiar gesture that felt so easy, so right, it was like he’d been in my life for years instead of days. Were all first dates like this – full of anticipation, longing, and the satisfaction of feeling like you fit perfectly together? They hadn’t been, in my experience, but then there wasn’t a whole lot that was typical about me.
As we sipped our drinks – tea for me, an Irish Coffee for Ull – I finally got to ask him about himself. He spoke unreservedly about his home, winter days spent skiing and snowshoeing with friends, and summer afternoons swimming in the ocean and grilling out at night.
“What about your family? Do you have brothers and sisters?” He’d been so busy with his interrogation I’d stored up what felt like a thousand questions.
“Not so much,” he smiled lightly, though I felt his arm tense around me. “I do have a rather sizeable extended family though, makes up for it.”
“Are they in Norway?”
“Yes. They all live in the same village actually, but it is pretty remote. Not a lot of contact with the rest of the world.”