Page 90 of The Opposite of Romance
There’s only so much idling around the deck I can do before she realizes what I’m doing. Matter of fact, I should probably tell her I only have a full day of work left as soon as possible.
“Can we forget I said all this and enjoy our night? You’re right, it’s time for a celebration,” she says, looking up from her menu.
“Sure, I’d like that.”
Obviously, my deck news can wait. The end of it means the end of me working at her house, which means we should probably decide on the direction of our relationship. I know what I want, but her response is still a mystery to me. A mystery I’m too scared to solve. So, she’s right. We should enjoy this night. And hope it’s not the last.
Our drinks arrive, and I clink my glass to hers. “To many more nights like this.”
Her face stretches into a huge smile, and I tell myself it’s because she wants to spend more time with me.
We order the restaurant’s signature steak and have a blast. She’s bright and funny and light and everything I knew she was but never had a chance to see outside of the sanctuary of her home.
“So, how did this start?” I look around the place, wanting to know the story.
“My mom. She used to bring us here to celebrate. Every sparkling report card. When Sandy won the science fair. When my script was chosen for the school play. We didn’t have a ton of money, so dinner here was an extra special treat. We would get dressed up and pretend we were super fancy. So when I publishedmy first book, Sandy surprised me and took me here.” My face relaxes, seeing how excited she is about the story. “I can’t believe you knew that.”
“I didn’t know the whole backstory. But I figured there was something to it. Something important for you.” Her eyes sparkle as she looks at me, more relaxed than I ever seen her.
The food arrives and we dig into it.
With her mouth half-full, she mentions, “Oh, yeah, I forgot to tell you. This isn’t agoodrestaurant. It was just tradition for us.”
A deep laugh bubbles out of me. She’s right. The steak is mediocre at best, but it’s probably the best dinner I ever had.
We talk about everything and nothing. By the time I’m pulling into her driveway, we have tears in our eyes from laughing so hard.
“I don’t feel good about you driving back to Seattle now. It’s late,” she says as I open her door. “Maybe you should stay.”
“Oh, don’t worry. I only drank that one champagne at the beginning of the evening.” I’d love to stay, but I don’t want to intrude. Or assume.
“What if I want you to stay?” Her eyes connect to mine beneath her long, thick lashes, and my heart flutters in my chest.
“I could … be persuaded of that.”
She giggles at my response. “Come on. I’ll pour you a drink.”
She makes us each a margarita, and since I’m not driving back, I can finally drink.
“Shit, this is strong.” I wince, making her chuckle.
“Yeah, sorry. Sandy and I love the taste of tequila.”
I shake my head, loving how her cheeks are rosy and her eyes sparkle. She’s radiant. Her dress fits her like it was made for her, showing every curve on her delicious body. This is only her third drink of the night, so I know she’s not drunk, but she’s relaxed enough to be playful, giving me small flirty touches that have me on edge.
“I haven’t drunk tequila since I was in high school.”
“Well, that wasn’t too long ago.” She bites her lower lip to stop herself from laughing. The sight shoots straight to my dick.
“Yeah, yeah. I’m younger. Not that much younger, though.”
“You know what? You’re right. I bet I could outrun you.”
“Is that a challenge?” I lift a brow and her breath hitches.
“Maybe.” Her tongue darts out to lick her lip and my gaze gets stuck on it.
“And what do I get if I catch you?”
