Page 47 of For Fox Sake

Chapter Thirteen

Ryan

I bite my lip and glance down at the heels I slipped on at the last minute to add some glitz to the rest of the outfit. They’re just black strappy heels with a smidge of sparkle, but I haven’t worn them in years. Haven’t had a reason.

“Is it too much?” I put on mascara for crying out loud. I had to dig into my bathroom drawer and find it, and I was lucky it wasn’t completely dried out.

Now I’m reconsidering everything. As I was getting dressed, it wasn’t enough, and now I’m thinking it’s too much, although we’re well matched since he’s also wearing dark jeans and a dark gray button-up shirt that’s nice without being overly done.

Jake hasn’t made a peep. His hair is damp and brushed back from his face. He swallows. “Not too much. Amazing.” His eyes are warm with appreciation.

Everything inside me melts.

“Are you ready?”

“As I’ll ever be.”

Jake grins, the brightness driving out any lingering doubts I had about this whole thing.

I lock the door and follow him to his truck.

Flutters spread from my stomach to my limbs, my whole body warming with an awareness I haven’t experienced in years. Maybe a decade. I don’t even remember the early days with Shane anymore, the whole relationship tainted by the end of it.

The feelings for Jake snuck up on me. He’s been eating with us every night this week, bringing over pizza, being wonderful with Ari and solicitous and kind and all things amazing, but he hasn’t made any moves. Not since the other night when he asked me to dinner, but I don’t think it’s because he doesn’t want to.

He opens the passenger door and helps me climb in, his warm fingers surrounding mine for a couple of seconds, and just that fleeting moment sends heat racing up my arm, nerve endings flaming.

I shift in the bench seat. “Where are we going?”

“InDullgent Bistro.”

“Oh, nice. I’ve heard it’s good.”

“You haven’t been?” He flicks the blinker on, checking the blind spot before switching lanes.

“I don’t generally eat in places without built-in play areas.”

He flashes a quick smile in my direction. “When was the last time you went on a date?”

I dip my head, rubbing a worn spot on the strap of my purse. “I did go on a lunch date a couple weeks ago. It was... not great.”

“What happened?”

I tap a finger on my chin. “Let’s see, he chewed with his mouth open, spit while he talked, made sexist comments about the waitress, and showed up that same night at my place—to return my wallet, which I had accidentally left at the restaurant—and tried to invite himself inside. Until he spotted Ari and ran for the hills.”

“Ooh. Yeah, I saw him.”

My eyes widen. “You saw him?”

“That was my first night here. I heard the car door slam and looked out the window.” He winces. “Maybe I should have looked away. I didn’t hear anything, but you looked kinda uncomfortable, so I kept an eye out.”

“Ah. Well.” I shrug. “Thanks.”

“The guy sounds like a total dickhead.”

I chuckle. “That’s what Bernie said, except using the word dick at least a dozen more times.”

He turns into the parking lot. “Well, I promise to chew with my mouth closed, make a valiant attempt not to drool in front of you, and I’ll only make sexist comments when I think you aren’t listening.”

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