Page 15 of Rescued By the Rebel

“Yeah, it was you. You stopped me dead in my tracks, but you walked out before I could try to talk to you.”

“When was this?”

“A few months ago,” he admits. “You had just moved to town a couple of weeks prior.”

“Months? Why didn’t you ever say anything to me?” I ask.

“I…” he trails off, and I could swear that he was blushing. “I was working up to it.”

“How?” I ask with a laugh.

“By following you back and forth from work,” he admits quietly, and now I know that he’s blushing.

“So, your plan was to stalk me?”

I should probably be concerned by that. I mean, I had a man I didn’t know following me around for months and I had no idea, but all it makes me feel is protected and cherished.

“Yeah,” he admits sheepishly. “I was trying to work up the nerve to talk to you.”

“That’s kind of… sweet,” I finish, and he looks surprised.

The waiter comes over with our food, and we’re silent as the food is laid out in front of us.

“How many girlfriends have you had?” I ask him as we both dig in, and he freezes, looking surprised.

“None,” he finally says, and now it’s my turn to be surprised.

“None? Really? How is that possible?”

“I never had the time,” he says, but I can tell that’s not quite true. “I just never met anyone who interested me. Until now.”

His eyes heat as he looks at me, and I flush.

“What about you?” He asks, and I pick up my knife and fork.

“None. My parents would have only allowed me to date one of their friends’ preppy sonsand they didn’t interest me.”

“Until now?” He asks, and I snort.

“You are not preppy, and they definitely wouldn’t have wanted to be your friend. They were too snobby for that.”

He smiles, and we share a heated look.

“But yeah. Now there’s someone that I’m interested in.”

I look away from his blue eyes and down at my food. It looks delicious, and we both dig in.

“Oh my gosh. We need to come here more often,” I moan as the steak practically melts on my tongue.

“Every day,” he says in a strangled voice.

I moan again, glancing up at him, and he looks like he’s about to snap the fork in his hand in half.

“Are you okay?” I ask him, and he nods. “Are you sure? You look a little… tense.”

“Just hungry,” he says, and I smile.

“Try the asparagus. It’s so good,” I say, pushing the bowl closer to him.

---