Page 23 of Played

“Alright. I’ll allow it.” He snorts a laugh, and I’m about to open the door, but he stifles me, lifting a hand. I watch him walk over to the passenger side and open the door for me. “Such a gentleman.”

He just smiles warmly, helping me down off the running boards, but I notice that he keeps my hand in his as we walk into the restaurant. It’s a fancy place, with candles on each table, and linen tablecloths that wrap around each leg in a wave pattern. He pulls the chair out for me, and then he takes his seat. The menu doesn’t have anything on it for less than fifty dollars, and it doesn’t show cents, so you know it’s expensive. When the waitress comes around, he lifts a finger. “Can we get a bottle of your finest wine, please?”

“Yes, sir.” She says, curtseying, and I want to gag.

“A wine connoisseur?” I ask him.

He waves. “Not a clue on that front. That’s why I just asked for the best.”

I snort a laugh. “Why didn’t you just ask for a scotch?”

“Because scotch is for after dinner, not during. I at least know that much.”

“A man with class.”

“Not really.” He looks around to make sure that nobody is overhearing. “I forgot to do laundry, and I ran out of clean briefs. I’m going commando tonight, lass.”

A sudden rush of pleasure flushes through me. I have never been so turned on by a simple sentence in my life. “Really.” I say, trying to hide the desire in my voice. “And what about socks?”

“Had a new package, thankfully.”

I chuckle. “God, I thought you’d squelch on this date, Ethan. I’m so glad you didn’t.”

He tilts his head. “Why did you think I’d squelch? I’m the one who asked you out.”

“And that’s why. I mean, we didn’t exactly get off to a great start.”

Another brow lift. “I thought it was a fucking excellent start, frankly.”

I swear to God my panties are soaked now. “I’m not denying that. I just figured that was the end of it.”

“Did you want it to be the end of it?” He asks carefully.

I shake my head quickly. “Exactly the opposite, Ethan. That’s why I said I’m glad that you didn’t.”

He gives me a cocky smile. “I’m ordering a steak. Don’t be shy, lass.”

Just as he says that, a man resembling a snooty butler appears, with a white linen napkin draped over his forearm, holding two wine glasses in the same hand, and a bottle of chilled wine laying inside an ice bucket in the other hand. “Your wine, sir.” He says, carefully setting the glasses down, and then equally carefully pouring the wine into the glasses. Ethan pushes his hand in the air, indicating when he can stop.

“Thank you, sir.” The butler says, as if Ethan was the one that poured the wine.

Ethan lifts the glass as the man leaves us. “To a fine meal.” He says.

All I can think is, ‘and an even better dessert’, but I don’t say it aloud. I just take a sip of the delicious wine and hope to God that it doesn’t go to my head and I say something stupid, like what’s on my mind. Ethan makes me want to crawl under the table, take down his pants, and check to make sure he’s really not wearing underwear. “To a fine meal.”

An hour later, we’re deep in a conversation about my software, and Ethan is truly enthralled in the back end of what I do, as I explain to him how I develop it. “God, how are you not a millionaire, Freya? I mean, if you marketed your product better, opened a factory, hired staff, you could really make a killing.”

“Please. Inside, you’re laughing at me, Ethan.”

His face falls. “Seriously. Freya, you could do so much with this.”

“The American dream, huh.”

“Aye. You’re doing this small potatoes, Freya. You have so much more potential.”

“I like it small potatoes, for now. Besides, I make enough money, Ethan. I’m no millionaire, but I don’t want to be.” I say honestly. “Money isn’t everything to me. Happiness is.”

He blinks. His expression changes. It’s like I hit a nerve.

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