Page 24 of The Situation
“Do you have a lot of siblings?” I ask.
“One sister and four brothers.”
“What number are you in the lineup?”
“I’m the baby.” He laughs again. “It’s all my brothers, then my sister, and then me.”
Oh my God. He’s the baby of his family. How old is this guy?
I take a sip of my drink, hoping the alcohol works quicker than my panic.
Tate leans forward, watching me curiously as I set my glass down.
“Hey, are you okay?” he asks, his voice smooth and calm.
“Of course. Why do you ask?”
“Because you had this flash bolt through your eyes just before you took a drink.”
I nibble my bottom lip, and my cheeks burn.
“I’m fine.” I smile. “This is just the first meal I’ve shared with someone in a long time. I just feel a little clumsy.”
Tate’s eyes are trained on mine. “I assure you, Ms. Kapowski. You are inverygood hands tonight.”
Our gazes lock across the table, and a shiver snakes down my spine. He’s a few feet away, too far to touch me. Still, I imagine him between my legs, against my lips, his hands in my hair.
He holds himself with the cool, easy confidence of someone who knows what he has to offer. He speaks with intention. He moves with deliberation. This man understands what he wants and knows how to get it.
“This could be what you were after all along.”
My breath is shaky as I exhale.
I have a feeling that he’s right—I am in good hands tonight. Because if I read the room correctly, I’m what he wants … and it won’t take much to get it.
ChapterSix
Aurora
“Enjoy,” Sean says before departing from our table.
Our appetizers sit beautifully before us. Each dish is more elegant than the previous one, starting with colorful charcuterie and ending with a spectacular elevated oyster display. It’s fancier than anything I’ve eaten, and my stomach tenses in fear that I won’t like it, and it’ll go to waste.
“What do you think?” Tate asks, watching me. “Do you think I ordered enough?”
I grin, shaking my head. “I don’t know. Maybe you could’ve ordered two more appetizers, and we could’ve fed a small country.”
He laughs. The sound envelops me with its smooth warmth.
“No, seriously, this is beautiful,” I say, surveying the spread again. “But itisa lot of food. We could’ve gotten away with just one of these.”
“What kind of date would that have been?”
I fight a grin at his choice of words. “This isn’t a date.”
“It isn’t?” He bites his lip to keep from smiling. “What is it, then?”
“Two random people who met on a plane and happened to run into each other again.”
