Page 32 of Housebroke

The shoes were the easy part. Sandals, but with a low heel, and also on sale. She slipped them on, and they looked amazing with the dress.

Linc came up behind her as she looked in the mirror. “Now you’re ready for dinner.”

She couldn’t help but grin. “Yes, I am.”

She went up to the counter and paid for the items, then had the cashier remove the tag from the dress since she was wearing it out the door. Once in the car, she slipped on the shoes.

She felt a lot better now.

CHAPTER ELEVEN

This was some kind of fairy princess night for Hazel. First, she was going out to dinner. And not just your average dinner, but dinner at a highly rated steak and seafood restaurant. She’d always wanted to eat at Victoria & Albert’s but of course could never afford it. And now, here they were, being seated in a private room that they would apparently have all to themselves, rather than in the main dining room. It was all lush and decadent and she was so excited she felt like she might burst.

Linc held out the chair for her and she slid in, certain there must be birds singing over the top of her head. Or maybe it was just this magical night.

Their server presented the wine list along with the menu.

“Any particular favorite on the wine?” Linc asked as he opened the book to page through it.

Normally, she would have let him choose, but this was her new life—the one where she promised to find her voice. “I’m fond of pinot noir.”

He looked up at her and nodded. “Me, too. Would you like to choose?” He slid the wine list over to her.

She perused it, her eyes nearly bugging out at the prices per bottle. “Holy crap, Linc.”

“Stop looking at the prices and just choose one that looks good to you. I can—I have money saved up for special nights and this is one. I want you to relax and enjoy this.”

She blew out a breath and let her pulse rate settle, then looked over the wine list until she found one that sounded good to her. She pointed it out to Linc.

“This one,” she said.

“You chose a California wine because it’s cheaper, right?”

She shrugged. “Maybe.”

“You wouldn’t want to, say, go with something French?”

“I’ve never had one.”

“Would you want to try?” He flipped through the pages and slid the book back to her. She looked, unable to avoid seeing the prices.

Good Lord. “Linc, I—can’t choose. You do it.” She shoved the book back at him.

He smiled at her. “Trust me?”

“Sure.”

When the server returned, she wanted to cover her ears while Linc ordered a bottle of the French pinot noir that she was sure cost over five hundred dollars.

Who did that? Not her, that was for sure. Her indulgences in wine typically came in a box from the grocery store. Not that she didn’t enjoy fine wine. She’d had her share of the good stuff, but that had been a long while ago. And never anything as expensive as what Linc had just ordered.

“You know, a less expensive bottle would have been fine.”

He shrugged. “Yeah, but you’ve been working hard, and isn’t it fun to indulge every now and then?”

“I wouldn’t know.”

“Well, tonight you will. And you deserve it.”

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