Page 53 of Bone Dust

“Because I want to take you out.”

“What’s in it for you?” I laugh, still shocked.

He gives me a wry smile. “I’ve never been on a date before.”

“Bullshit!”

“It’s true. I swear. Pitiful, huh?”

“Harder to believe.” The invitation has changed our moods from dark to light. Ridiculous. Downright silly even.

“Yeah, well, that was my life. Lots of sex. Nothing meaningful.”

“And this? I don’t want to …”

“It’s dinner. What’s meaningful is the company and the conversation.” He shrugs. “Come to think of it, I’ve never dressed up for anything other than funerals. I’d like to dress up for a happier occasion. Do those things guys like to do— gentlemanly things—like open your door for you and hold your chair.” His expression pinches. “Almost sounds like a pity date, doesn’t it?”

“Kind of.” I smile. “But it would be nice to go out somewhere other than Sam’s or Cora’s. I can’t remember the last time I didn’t go somewhere other than Mad Dog without Gigi.”

“Then it’s a date?”

I nod and he smiles. When he does it reaches his eyes, causing the lines and wrinkles accrued through his hard-lived life to disappear. I shake my head in disbelief.

I’m going on a date with Ian Stanton.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

Ian

“H

ello?” I shove the phone between my ear and shoulder while fidgeting with the buttons on my shirt.

“So, tonight’s the night, huh? You’re takin’ my girl out?” Sam’s coffee-rich voice is laced with humor.

“Looks that way. Hold on a minute. Let me put you on speaker.” I hit the button on the screen to amplify the sound and then toss the phone on the bed. “Can you hear me okay?”

“Yeah. I’m glad you’re getting Savi out tonight, but I don’t think I need to tell you to be a gentleman. It’s been a long time since Savannah’s been kissed—or it was ‘till you stole one from her. Then, again, other than kissing her, I guess it’s been a while for you, too.”

“It’s dinner, Sam. I have no expectations other than enjoying a meal with a friend.” I spray cologne and rub my hand over my neck.

“Yeah, she said the same thing; ‘It’s just dinner, Sam.” His high-pitched, sing-song voice mocks Savannah. “I say, a date’s a date. Dressing up makes it special, no matter what you say. Did you get her flowers?”

“She’s not expecting flowers.” I did get them, but don’t need to give him another reason to niggle me for details.

“Which is exactly why you should get them.” He insists.

“Sam …” I drop a gentle warning with my tone. “We’re going to eat. I’m taking her home. That’s it.”

“And, if you’re lucky, maybe a goodnight kiss.”

I stop dead in my tracks. “It sure sounds like you want me to kiss her. Knowing how protective you are of her I would have thought you more resistant to the idea. I never pegged you as a romantic.”

“I still have an eye for the ladies. Just never found the one I’d want to settle down with.” He parades the words with pride as he humors me. My mood is light for a change. The memory of kissing Savannah filters in pleasant thoughts, though I certainly don’t expect a repeat performance of the act.

“Are you still there?”

“I am. I’m almost finished getting ready.”

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