Page 49 of Baby For My Ex's Brother

Right?

"Here goes nothing," I mumble, handing over the fare before stepping onto the sidewalk.

"Shiloh." His voice is a warm caress that sends a jolt through me.

I turn, and there he is—Liam—in a suit that looks tailored by the gods themselves. Grey, understated but exuding power, it fits him like a glove.

"Hi," I manage, my throat suddenly tight. He's standing too close, or maybe not close enough—I can't decide which. My heart's doing this funny thing where it feels like it's dancing to a rhythm only it can hear.

He reaches for my arm, his touch sending a ripple of something dangerous through me. "I was hoping you'd be early," he says, and the corner of his mouth quirks up in a way that makes my stomach flip.

"Am I?" My voice barely sounds like my own, breathy and uncertain.

"Perfectly on time." His thumb brushes against the bare skin of my arm, and I fight the urge to lean into his touch. "And you look beautiful."

I can feel heat crawl up my neck, and it's not just from the summer evening air.

"Are you really taking me out to dinner?" The question comes out more bashful than I intend, but the fluttering in my chest demands confirmation.

"That's exactly what I'm doing," he confirms with a confidence that makes my knees wobble.

We step into Le Noblesse together, the scent of five-star food rolling over us both. The hostess greets us immediately. With Liam at my side, her eyes flick between us—curious, maybe even a touch envious—as she leads us to our table.

The table is a window seat, overlooking the harbor. The moon casts its glow over the water, turning the waves into liquid silver. It's breathtaking, the kind of view you see in movies where everything is impossibly perfect, and romance hangs heavy in the air.

"Wow," I whisper, unable to help myself. The reflection of the moonlight dances across Liam's features, softening the harsh lines of his vicious attorney exterior.

"Wait until you try the food," he says, pulling out a chair for me.

I sit, still caught up in the view, in the moment, in the man who seems to have stepped straight out of every forbidden fantasy I've ever dared to entertain.

"Thank you," I say, more to the universe than to Liam. For the dress that makes me feel beautiful, for the nervous excitement buzzing under my skin, for this night that promises...well, I'm not quite sure what it promises yet.

But I'm here for it—all of it.

"Should have asked if you liked fish," Liam muses, his voice pulling me out of my moonlit reverie.

"Fish?" I blink, then remember where we are. "Yes, absolutely." My family's idea of seafood might be the occasional canned tuna, but I'm not about to admit that now.

"Excellent." He signals the waitress with the ease of someone used to commanding attention without demanding it. She glides over, her presence unobtrusive yet efficient.

"May I start the two of you off with a bottle of white wine?" she asks, her tone neutral as she meets Liam's gaze.

"Please," he nods. "And we'll have the house special—all four courses."

The waitress scribbles on her pad and disappears into the restaurant's choreographed ballet of service.

"House special?" I ask, trying to sound more intrigued than intimidated by what that could mean for my limited palate.

"Trust me," Liam says, fixing me with a look that suggests he knows exactly how out of depth I am. "You'll love it."

"Okay." I rest my hands in my lap, fingers twisting nervously. Then the thought surfaces, unbidden. "I'm not sure I can split the bill here," I say, the joke feeble even to my own ears.

Liam's eyebrow arches, amusement mingling with something darker, something that sends an unfamiliar thrill through me.

"Don't joke about that," he warns, his voice so low it feels like it's wrapped around me. "If you even think about spending another cent tonight, I'll have to punish you."

My heart stutters and heat floods my cheeks, a silent wave of realization crashing into me.

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