Page 16 of Playing Doctor

Oh, fuck yeah.

Chapter Five

Traffic was lighter in downtown Lexington than Beth had expected, especially for a Saturday evening. Gabe pulled into the parking lot of Bolton’s on Main, cut the engine, and slid from behind the wheel. Pocketing the keys, he ran an appreciative eye over the car as he walked around to open Beth’s door.

“That’s one fine ride you have. Tell me you don’t put it on the road every day.” Gabe’s hand rode loosely at the small of Beth’s back as they made their way across the parking lot toward the lounge. Each step she took, each roll of her hips shifted his fingers over the fabric of her jacket in the semblance of a caress. A quiver of excitement ran through her as she imagined those warm fingers on her bare flesh.

Pulling in a breath, she reached for calm.

“What, that old thing?” she teased, tucking her hair behind her ear. “No, I have a Camry for that. The Chevelle is strictly for pleasure.” Her heels clicked on the concrete walkway leading to the entrance of the lounge. Gabe reached forward and pushed the wide, ornate door open, turning to the side as she moved past him.

“Is that what this weekend is about—pleasure?” The warm puff of Gabe’s breath wisped over Beth’s ear, sending goose bumps down her arm. He was so close the slightest turn of her head would bring her mouth to his. Her gaze shot up and met the intensity in his dark eyes. The air between them sizzled with a current of sexual awareness. Her lips parted, but before she could form a reply, a gentle nudge from his hand at her back urged her over the threshold and into the elegantly decorated foyer.

“Welcome to Bolton’s on Main.”

Dragging her gaze from Gabe, Beth blinked as the maître d’ stepped from behind her podium.

“If you’ll follow me…”

The maître d’ escorted them to a private dining area with linen covered tables and plush upholstered chairs. She placed a leather-bound drink list on the table between them. “Your waiter will be with you shortly,” she murmured, and unobtrusively slipped away.

Gabe assisted Beth with her chair. Once situated at the table, his hands slipped from the back of her chair to her arms and skimmed up to settle on her shoulders. His fingers dipped inside the collar of her jacket and brushed her collarbone, sending a ripple of heat down her spine before they slid away and he took the chair across from her. His touch was pure seduction.

To calm herself, Beth rested her arms on the table, hands folded, and took a moment to look around. Strategically placed Grecian columns flanked by leafy potted palms afforded privacy from patrons at the neighboring tables while they had their drinks. Wall sconces with soft, low lighting and flickering tea lights on the tabletops added a romantic, even sensual tone, and soft music played in the background.

A waiter appeared to take their drink order, Disaronno on the rocks for Gabe and white wine for Beth, and then slipped away.

“You’re quiet.” Gabe reached across the table and ran the back of his fingers over hers.

“Sorry.” She brought her attention back to Gabe and found him watching her with a curious intensity. “I was just taking all of this in. It’s very…”

“Too much?”

The softly spoken question caught Beth off guard. Was it too much? Too soon? She glanced around again with a more discerning eye—soft music, low lighting, private tables—the perfect setting for romance, for seduction. Her earlier admission of having missed sex notwithstanding, Beth was feeling a bit overwhelmed. But when she looked back at Gabe, into his warm, brown eyes, the uncertainty threatening to ruin her evening slipped away. She wanted this, wanted to see where this evening would lead.

With Gabe.

Her resolve in place, Beth smiled and said, “No, not at all. I was thinking…intimate.”

Gabe reached across the table and plucked at her fingers until they loosened and then wrapped his around them. “And how do you feel about that?”

And wasn’t that the question of the evening? Her gaze drifted over his broad shoulders, the muscles that strained and flexed under the soft fabric of his shirt. “I feel good about it. Very good.”

The rough pad of Gabe’s thumb swiped over her knuckles. His features hardened. The muscles in his throat flexed with a swallow. “Me, too.”

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