Page 46 of Tell Me It’s Right

Miles beams as I swing the front door open, and I’m immediately glad I opted for the dress instead of the jeans andsweater I’d been considering. He’s in a pair of gray slacks and a navy button-up, and my knowledge of men’s footwear is lacking, but the leather looks shiny and expensive.

“You look beautiful,” he says, then pulls a single red rose out from behind his back. “For you.”

Like the cliché I am, I blush.

“We should get going if we want to make our reservation.”

I accept the arm he offers to lead me to the giant black SUV waiting by the curb. Goose bumps spread down my arms in the cool night air, and I pull my wrap tighter around myself. The fabric is measly and thin, but I figured we’d be inside for most of the night, and none of my jackets looked remotely good with this dress. It is a bit unseasonably cold for June, but at least it’s not winter.

He opens the passenger door and offers a hand to help me climb into the monstrous thing, which would have been a feat by itself, let alone with the six-inch heels. But I manage to wrestle myself inside and let out an audible sigh at the warmth of the car as he closes the door.

It’s cleaner than I would’ve expected, though the lemon air freshener hanging from the rearview mirror is a little overpowering. But it’s the thought that counts, right? If he went through the effort of cleaning for me, that must be a good sign.

He smiles as he slides into the driver’s seat, and I twist my fingers a little tighter together in my lap.Don’t be weird. Don’t be awkward. He already likes you at least a little. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have asked you out.

A radio station playing the Top 40s hums lowly in the background as he pulls away from the house. Is this the kind of music he listens to, or is he playing it for my sake?

“Can’t believe you’ve never been to Winters,” he says. “You’re gonna love it.”

I smile, my cheeks already starting to cramp. I should say something, maybe ask him a question, but all I can think isDo you go there often?and if those words come out of my mouth, I will have no choice but to throw myself out the door of this moving vehicle.

“So tell me about what you do at the shop for Brooks!”

This, at least, is an easy conversation. The drive to the restaurant is nearly half an hour, but it passes quickly as I tell him about the random assignments Liam has given me so far and my plans for his website and social media. It’s easier to talk to him with his focus on the road instead of me. The moment I meet his eyes, it’s like I forget how to form words.

“And what do you do again?” I ask, tugging at the hem of my dress. “Liam said something about construction?”

Miles snorts. “That’s a nice way of describing it. Makes it sound kind of impressive, right? Building shit.”

“But that’s not what you do…?”

He tilts his head to the side. “My dad owns a real estate development company. So I mainly help out on the office side of things for now. You know, learning the ropes, working my way up to managing a project on my own.”

“Ah.” I nod, though I can count on one hand the number of jobs I know less about thanreal estate development. “A very underappreciated occupation, if you ask me. Some might even say noble.”

“You know what? You’re right. Gonna make the guys at work start addressing me with a title.”

“My Lord?” I suggest. “His Grace? The Right Honorable?”

He lifts an eyebrow. “The Right Honorable?”

I shrug. “Sometimes I read historical romance.”

“Wait, wait. What’s the word for those? Bodice breakers?”

“Bodice rippers,” I mutter.

He snaps his fingers. “Right! Is it like that? Are they…racy?” He wiggles his eyebrows with the last word, and I immediately regret saying anything.

Maybe I will jump out of this car after all. For the second stupid time tonight, I blush.

He lets out a full-on cackle as he glances at me sideways. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

Thank God I went with the dress. The restaurant is fancy. Like,fancy,fancy. The kind that makes me feel like I’m playing dress-up in my mom’s high heels and I should justrun along nowsince it’s already past my bedtime.

Miles walks through the door like he’s done it a hundred times before and gives a curt nod and his reservation to the host.

“Right away, sir. If you’ll follow me.”

---