Page 73 of On the Rocks

“He wouldn’t tell me. I think he wants it to be a surprise.”

Jennifer clicked her tongue, dissatisfied. “You’re giving me literally nothing to work with here.”

“I know!”

“Okay, well, if I were a billionaire,” Jennifer said, walking to my tiny closet, “taking someone out to dinner in Manhattan, I’d gosomewhere nice. Somewherereallynice. Like Eleven Madison Park or maybe the Modern.” She pulled a sparkling black halter dress from my closet. It had a plunging neckline. “Put this on.”

I worried my lip. “I’m not sure that’s the one.”

“This is the one,” Jennifer said. “Trust me.”

“You look amazing,” Aiden said. “Have I told you that yet?”

“Yes…” I smiled softly at him across the small, square table. His thumb brushed over my knuckles where he held my hand. “Only about five or six times.”

“Let’s make it seven then,” he said as his gaze flicked up and down, his stare heated. “That dress…”

He’d hardly been able to take his eyes off me since the moment he’d picked me up. Jennifer was right. This wasthedress—plunging neckline, slit up the side. His gaze was like a caress, goosebumps prickling up and down my arms as Aiden tugged on the collar of his dress shirt.

“This place is amazing,” I said, trying to distract myself from the way he was making me feel. He’d taken me to Velour & Vine, the fanciest restaurant I’d ever set foot in. We’d promptly been escorted across the restaurant to a semi-private table for two. It was an intimate space with soft lighting. Our position allowed us a view of the elegant decor and bustling restaurant activity without being too close to the other diners. The staff were attentive but unobtrusive, often anticipating our needs before Aiden or I could even voice them. A sommelier came and went, offering tailored wine pairings to go with the special dishescurated by the head chef himself. He’d come out to greet us at the start of the meal, shaking Aiden’s hand in a way that made it clear they were old friends. Each course of the tasting menu had been utterly divine so far, and I couldn’t wait to give Jennifer the rundown. If anyone could appreciate meticulously crafted seafood, it was her.

A gently seared scallop was set down in front of me.

“…served with brown butter dashi, seaweed, and mushrooms,” the server was saying. He disappeared quickly, leaving us to enjoy the dish.

I sipped my wine, watching Aiden’s fork disappear between his lips. His eyes fluttered closed.

“Good?” I asked.

“I’ve only ever tasted one thing better.”

“What?”

“You.”

I must have flushed the same color as my wine. Thank god I didn’t choke on it. “Smooth,” I said, shaking my head at his cocky smirk. “How long have you been waiting to use that one?”

“Since the moment we sat down,” he said. He leaned over, kissing me, letting me taste the scallop on his tongue.

I hummed in appreciation.

Aiden pulled back, taking my fork so he could pick up my scallop and offer it to me. I opened my mouth, letting him feed me. As I chewed, his gaze, which had been firmly focused on my face, dropped lower, appreciating the view of my cleavage.

The server returned with the next course. “Yellowfin tuna,” he said. “Thinly pounded.” Aiden caught my eye, his smirk widening. “Served with foie gras, toasted baguette, and chives.” He disappeared like a veil of smoke.

“Don’t,” I said before Aiden could even open his mouth. “I know what you’re thinking.”

“No, you don’t.”

“You weren’t about to say something along the lines of ‘That’s not how I usually like my things pounded’?”

He smirked. “I have more class than that. But while we’re on the subject. How doyoulike things pounded?”

“Are we still talking about fish here?”

“When were we not?” he said with far too much innocence. His hand found my leg, his fingers crawling up the slit to my thigh. “Have I mentioned Ireallylike this dress?”

I laughed. “No, I had no idea.”

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