Page 31 of Protecting Bianca

I blinked, certain I had conjured him up, but he was there. My finger trailed over his bicep through his black sweater. “Sorry,” I said, clearing my throat. “I’m just surprised to see you here.”

“Are you all right?” he asked.

I brushed my hair off my forehead. “Yeah, yeah, fine.”

“You look a little pale. I think it’s too crowded here. I should take you home.”

I bit my lip, as home was exactly where I wanted to be right now. Away from John and this horrible date. “Um…maybe. I just have to think of some excuse to get out of this date and grab my coat.”

Jager turned around. “Which one is he?”

I rolled my eyes. “The doctor sitting by himself next to the club soda.”

“I’ll take care of him. You wait here.”

I stood on my tiptoes, watching as he maneuvered effortlessly through the crowd. His broad shoulders were easy to follow. The food had arrived at the table, but it wasn’t worth a chicken salad to have to make conversations with that jerk.

I’d lost Jager when he bent down to speak to John but spotted him a couple of minutes later walking back to me. “Let’s go,” he said and engulfed my hand in his. It was warm but not sweaty. I felt the tendons behind each knuckle rather than squishy flesh.

“Wait,” I said when I spotted my waitress. “He might not tip or even stiff her with the bill. I’ve got to pay for my dinner.”

Jager walked over to the server I’d been staring at and placed his hand on her shoulder. She turned around and a smile spread across her face. “I’ll be right with you, sweetheart.”

Jager put some bills in her hand. “For the lady’s meal. Keep the change.”

I wasn’t sure how much he gave her, but her wide eyes told me it was more than a chicken salad and a glass of wine’s worth.

“You didn’t have to do that,” I said when we finally reached the cool air outside. “I would have paid for my dinner.”

“You shouldn’t have to pay for it in the first place,” he said, running a hand through his hair.

It was hard to argue with that, but I tried. “It’s fine. Most guys go Dutch these days.”

He shook his head. “I don’t fucking understand what this world is coming to.”

I shrugged. It was the least offensive thing John had done tonight. “He was a jerk.”

“Then why did you agree to go out with him?” Jager’s brow furrowed, and he stared at me like I was a puzzle he was trying to solve.

I closed my eyes. “It was a big mistake. I…” I couldn’t tell him the truth. It was too embarrassing. “Can we just forget about it?”

“Yeah,” he said, lifting the collar of his wool coat. “Come on. Let’s get out of here.”

He turned, and I followed him down the street toward a black sports car. “Wow, is this yours?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice ride. When did you get it?”

“A couple of years ago.”

He walked over to the passenger side and opened the door for me. I watched him walk around the front and then climb into the driver’s side. His cologne filled the air, and I closed my eyes as I inhaled his woodsy scent.

“Do you still like Italian?” he asked.

“It’s my favorite.”

“I know,” he said as he pulled into the street.

---