Page 122 of I Could Be Yours

Essie angles her body toward me. “How was your day?”

“Good, but long. I couldn’t wait to see you. How about yours?”

“The same.” She skims the shell of my ear. “But the fantasy show I’m working on has been so much fun.”

“Tell me more about that.” I love the way she grows animated when she’s excited about something.

“It’s all princes and princesses, which is obviously right up my alley. And today I worked on one of the elves. It really pushes me to grow my skill set,” she explains.

“I’d love to see you in action one day.”

Her eyes light up. “I could practice on you.”

Her hands on my face, transforming me into something else? Being turned into her art? “Sure. Yeah. I’d be game.”

She shimmies in her seat. “Halloween could be so fun this year.”

“Yeah. It could.” Her enthusiasm gives me hope that she can see a future with me the way I can with her.

I pull into the restaurant parking lot.

“Oh wow. This is fancy.”

“It’s our first official date. I wanted it to be special.” I take her hand and press my lips to her knuckles. “Stay right here, please.”

“Okay.”

I unbuckle my seat belt and hop out of the car, coming around to open her door.

She takes my hand and carefully steps out.

It’s a beautiful night. Though the evenings are starting to cool with the promise of fall. Heads turn as we enter the restaurant. That’s always the way it is with Essie. She’s so beautiful that she stops traffic and earns endless double takes. But for me, it’s about so much more than how she looks. She brings the most wonderful energy into a room, and I love that I get to stand beside her and soak it all in.

The host is a couple years younger than we are. His eyes flare as he looks at Essie, and he strobe-blinks several times before his attention moves to me.

“I have a reservation for two under Stiles.” I absolutely used my brother’s connections.

“Stiles. Yes. Thank you so much for joining us.”

“It’s our first date.” Essie’s smile nearly knocks the guy unconscious.

“Well, Mr. Stiles must think very highly of you,” the host croaks.

“Is that right, Mr. Stiles?” She aims her radiant smile at me.

“Absolutely.” I squeeze her gently.

“I’ll just show you to your table.” The host leads us to a private terrace.

“This is so nice, Nate.” Essie reaches across the table, and I take her hand.

“Good. I’m glad I chose right.”

“Honestly, you could have taken me to East Side, and I would have loved it.”

“Even with the screaming children?”

She smiles. “The music here is more of a mood setter, but we would have made the best of it.”

---