Page 77 of Rich and Bossy

I saw her in street clothes once at the copy place too, but it wasn’t her dressed up. She never wears makeup. She doesn’t fucking need to, but holy shit.

“W-wow.” It’s all I can manage to get out when I see her.

You sound like a fucking idiot.

She bites her lip and grins. “This okay? Mr. Cryptic?”

I can’t see much of the dress under her coat—it’s fucking freezing out here, it might start snowing at any moment, which ruled out any outside possibilities for this, but she still looks absolutely amazing. “You look incredible. You should wear your hair like that more often.” It’s pulled up, showing off her swanlike neck, but the top of her hair is curled.

She looks like a damn queen, and I want to treat her like one. I want to give her anything she wants, and never see her frown again.

Her cheeks grow a little pink. “Thanks. You don’t look so bad yourself, but you always look nice.”

“Suit and a shave. No big deal. It’s kind of what I have to do every day.” I hold out my hand, letting her know this is her choice. Even if I was kind of forceful demanding this date. I would still leave if she told me to go. In the end, I want it to be her decision.

The fact that she places her hand in mine—that might be the best thing that’s ever happened. Words can’t describe the way my heart comes alive when she does it, and then when I feel her small fingers wrapped in mine.

“So? Where we going?” She smiles up at me knowing damn well what she’s doing. “I know. I know, but seriously, where we going?”

“Hah!” I laugh, like she’s ridiculous, before opening the passenger door.

She doesn’t even notice, because she’s set her eyes on something else. “Oh hello, old friend.” Her eyes scan the length of the Charger.

“Is that the only reason you came? I mean, I’ll take it, but still.”

She glances up at me. “It helped, but I don’t know if it’s theonlyreason.”

I shrug. “A better response than I hoped for.” I close the door behind her as she climbs into the car.

I realize I’m smiling more than I think I ever have as I walk around the back. As far as I’m concerned, we could sit here all night and I’d be perfectly happy. Being with her is indescribable.

I know this is reckless and insane, but I can’t seem to stop. We are on a collision course and it doesn’t matter. All that matters in my mind, is keeping this going, minute by minute. Every extra second with her is a success.

The whole ride, it’s almost impossible to keep my hands off her. I want her out of that coat. I want her in my bed, but I want time with her more than anything.

We drive through town and pull up in front of the valet stand at a romantic little hole-in-the-wall bistro.

“We brought our parents here for their anniversary last year. It’s kind of a family favorite. Never had a date here though.”

“Aww.” She glances around, looking nervous. Looking unsure of anything she might say or do. She’s still apprehensive.

I get the feeling. I want it to disappear though.

When we step inside, and Hazel scans the room with its flickering candles and dim lighting, she sighs softly. “This place is beautiful.”

Now I know it was the right decision, bringing her here. I knew she’d appreciate it. I want to take her to the most expensive place in town, shower her with shopping sprees, give her anything she wants, but I know that wouldn’t impress her. She doesn’t care about any of those things. This is what she wants. Personal connections. She values family, experiences, more than money and gifts.

When a host leads us to a table, I pull out a chair, and this is the moment I’ve been waiting for.

When she takes off her coat and I get to see her in the dress. I swear to God, not exaggerating, I almost pass out. My palms get sweaty, my face has to be pale as a ghost. Striking. That’s what her beauty is. It slams into your chest.

It’s a modest dress, cut wise. It’s black with mid-length sleeves, but clings to her curves just right. It has a high neckline, but holy hell, it shows off her breasts, full and round. Not like the work shirts that hide everything.

Then, down to her soft hips and thighs, cutting off just above her knees. She has on black shoes that are flats, but still leather and have the appearance of heels. Practical but dressy. I wouldn’t expect anything less from her.

“That dress is…” I can’t even find words.

“The nicest thing I own.”

---