Page 27 of Boarded Hearts

Turning to me with one arm draped over the steering wheel he lightly drums his fingertips on the dash, and I can’t help but notice his gaze move from my eyes to my mouth. I automatically sweep my tongue across my bottom lip, remembering what happened the last time he looked at me like that. I half expect him to lean in and kiss me again. I know I want him to, even if we shouldn’t.

He doesn’t though, instead, moving his eyes back up to mine.“How was your day, Angel?”

“Busy. I had so much to get through, made worse by this random man turning up at the office first thing this morning, demanding to talk and take me out tonight.” I can’t help but tease and yes, flirt. Because I have zero self-control. Nada.

Jon’s eyes sparkle. “Oh, is that right? Well, I need the details on this guy for making moves on my girl. Can’t say as I blame him for trying though.”

My girl. My. Girl.

Oh, Jesus.

“So, where are we off to then? I could go for fried chicken.” I’m not joking. I’m absolutely starving, having worked through my lunch break.

“Sorry to disappoint, but no fried chicken tonight; we’re hitting up the finest restaurant in town.” Jon cranks the engine as it roars to life. It’s an absolute beast. I love cars and have a decent knowledge of them. My dad was a fan of racing, having spent many years marshaling at events, and I guess to some extent, his passion has rubbed off on me, especially when I went along with him as a young girl to places like Silverstone, Mallory Park, and Donnington.

In stark contrast to the utter masculinity around me, Miley Cyrus’s “Midnight Sky” starts up, and I can’t help but burst into fits of giggles. After a few seconds of trying to settle my hysterics, I look over to find Jon side-eyeing me with a full pout spread across his face.

“Oh, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings, petal.”

He shrugs before putting the car in gear. I hadn’t noticed it was a manual car and there’s something about the way he shifts between gears and presses the pedals that has me fluttering all over again.“That’s okay, baby. We can’t all have great taste in music.”

We both laugh at the same time, and any tension my body was harboring in anticipation of this evening instantly eases. There’s clearly far more to this man than the bravado the press portrays—or perhaps what he lets the world see.

Clearing my throat and trying to stay on task for tonight, I gaze out the passenger window, the street looking somewhat familiar. “Where are we going?”

“I told you, the best restaurant in town.”

I look down at my old gray skirt which is now sporting a coffee stain from earlier. “I told you; I’m not dressed for anywhere nice.”

Jon turns to look at me, eyes ablaze with heat that instantly radiates to my cheeks. “You look fucking stunning.”

I scoff at his comment. I’m by no means vain, but even I can see I’m hardly dressed for fine dining. “Oh, come on. I look like I haven’t washed my hair and just finished a long day in the office. You, on the other hand, you look like...” I stop, my eyes taking him in, my body heating to boiling point at the sight. “Well, you look lovely.”

Jon chuckles quietly. “You think I look lovely do you, Angel? Why, thank you.”

I flush, hard, and turn back toward the window to hide my reaction.Fucking lovely?

On a Monday evening, the streets are relatively quiet, so we reach our destination quickly. Jon indicates, pulling into an underground garage and the electric doors open automatically.

I’m now more than curious. “So other than it being the finest restaurant in town, where exactly are we?”

He pulls down a ramp into a small car park lined with at least half a dozen beautiful vehicles. Amongst them, I note a black Audi A7 with all-black wheels, a silver Porsche Cayman, a midnight-blue Mercedes G-Wagon, and a BMW M 1000 motorbike. Whoa, we really are somewhere nice, and exclusive, clearly.

Thankfully, there’s one space remaining, so Jon swings the car around before shifting into reverse. He throws his arm round the back of my seat and fires a wink at me before backing into the space. “You’ll see. You’re not good with surprises are you, Angel?”

Well, wherever we are, I’m heading straight to the bathroom to change my underwear.

He kills the engine. “Hang on.”

He jogs around to my side, tapping his knuckles lightly on the hood, and then opens my door and reaches across to release my belt; he smells insanely good. Taking my hand, he helps me out of the car and places my tote back on my shoulder.At this point, I’m wondering whether to issue a missing persons ad because every ounce of feminism has abandoned me, and even more worrying—I’m not that mad about it either.

There’s at least a foot in height difference between us, and it shows as I glance up at him. “Thank you.”

He smiles sweetly then laces his fingers through mine and leads me to a pair of black double doors. Pushing through, we’re met with an elevator, and once inside, Jon leans across and presses a button behind my back. His eyes find mine again, and as the elevator begins to climb, he doesn’t say anything, just simply studies my face. I’ve noticed him looking intensely at my eyes a few times, almost like he’s enraptured by them. I could say the same about his.

The elevator pings as it comes to a stop, and the doors slowly open to reveal…his apartment. I throw my head back in laughter as he steps out, taking my hand once again.

“Told you, Angel, the best restaurant in town.”