Page 14 of Tangled Hearts

"Nat," I correct. Natalie always feels so formal, reminding me of the prep school my parents made me attend.

"It's wonderful to meet you, Nat. I’ve got your table."

Dylan releases my hand but only to place it on my back to follow after Brooks through the restaurant. I spot the mayor in one corner, and I'm pretty sure an actor from that last action movie Frankie made me watch. It was always a trade-off. I got her to watch two reality TV show episodes; in exchange, I had to agree to a scary or action-packed movie. I’d never tell her that I actually enjoyed a few of them or getting her to watch my reality shows would have been impossible.

"This place is really nice," I say so that only Dylan can hear.

"You'll get used to it. I promise you can wear whatever you like." I'm guessing others don't have the same privilege, going off everyone else's attire.

A few of the staff say hi to Dylan as we pass. He knows each of their names. I notice a few give surprised expressions when they see he has his hand pressed to my back, walking close enough to me that makes it intimate. There’s just something that feels so natural when he touches me. It puts me at ease.

"You must come here a lot."

"My law practice is two floors up."

It must be a pretty sizable practice to be able to afford the rent in a beautiful building like this. It's not surprising based on his résumé. I can’t help but wonder what the driving force is behind him walking away from it all. Is it the usual suspects: stress, long hours, redundancy, boredom etc., or is it something way more than that? I’m betting on the latter.

Brooks opens one of the swinging doors for us to enter the kitchen. “Wow,” I breathe out, and Dylan pulls a chair out for me. We can see most of the kitchen. I’ve heard of tables being in the kitchen before, but I’ve never seen one and most definitely have never got the privilege to sit at one.

“Chef's choice?” Brooks asks. I nod.

“That would be great,” Dylan tells his friend.

“Any allergies?” Dylan asks me.

“No.”

“I’ll send the wine out. Each course will have its corresponding wine,” Brooks says before going over to one of the stations in the kitchen.

“So,” I say when we’re alone. I have never done this dating thing before.

“There is no reason to be tense. It was me chasing you down. Not the other way.” True.

It should be creepy, but I was thrilled when I saw him. Even if I was still annoyed about the prenup, how mad can I be? It’s his job. I’m more annoyed that I can’t talk Luna out of this bullshit engagement that is moving far too quickly.

“You can ask me anything,” he offers.

“You sound a bit inept about dating. I admit that I might also be suffering from the same ineptness, but could you please explain how you didn't realize you were actually dating Julie?” By the time he does, I’m fighting not to laugh.

“What was I going to do? She was drunk, and my mother would kill me if I tossed out a woman on the brink of passing out from my home.” A mention of his mother again.

“You did the right thing.”

“I don’t know how she knew where I lived.” Dylan takes a sip of water. “Not that I have room to talk. I was stalking you down tonight.”

“That should send me running.”

“But you’re not.”

“I’m not,” I agree. My teeth sink into my bottom lip.

The last thing I want to do right now is run, at least not from him.

Chapter Eleven

DYLAN

“So you’re okay with prenups?” My elbow is propped on the white linen tablecloth. Between Nat and me rests a ramekin with a half-eaten molten lava cake. It’s our second. We destroyed the first one in record time, which led Brooks to deliver another one which hadn’t been baked to his exacting standards. Something about the crust of the cake was off. It tasted the same to me and Natalie. Her lips are red from licking the chocolate off of them, and her cheeks are rosy from the wine.

---