Page 49 of A Dark Fall

“So, where are you taking me?” I ask, turning to look at him. His profile is gorgeous, of course—full lips, a straight nose, and a youthful, healthy complexion. His eyes are focused firmly on the road ahead, but he turns to glance at me, playful.

“Not The Dorchester anyway.”

I laugh a little. “You know, I’ve never actually been to The Dorchester. Well, not for dinner at least.”

His mouth twitches with a smirk. “Well, this is a place I like. Nothing fancy, and I know the owner, and the food’s amazing.”

It could be my imagination, but he seems nervous. Edgy even. He licks his lips again, which he does a lot. I’m not sure if it’s a nervous thing, but it gives his lips a constant kissable look. I want to kiss him. My eyes drift down to his hand resting on the gear stick as he puts the car into a higher gear. His hands are as sexy as I remember them. Long, shapely fingers. Smooth, tanned skin. Is there any part of him I don’t find attractive?

“There’s a contraflow just past junction five. Oh—is that why you were late?”

He looks away, into the side mirror. “Ah, no, I just got caught up with something at the club. The contraflow wasn’t there when I came down.”

I’m about to ask him what happened, but something about his manner and the way he bites the inside of his cheek stops me. It’s none of my business anyway. Instead, I nod at his profile. Though, he senses I’m looking at him and flicks his eyes to me, tense, before looking back at the road.

Okay, I need to try harder at not staring at him.

“So, it’s in the city, the place you’re taking me?” I ask to make conversation. This silence between us is mildly uncomfortable, but I’m also hoping it’ll help me think of something other than deep, sexual growls and wet, warm tongues.

“Yeah. Is that okay? It’s where I know.” He sounds apologetic.

“Of course. That’s fine.” I nod eagerly before turning my head back to look out the window.

The car journey continues in a strange yet heated staggered silence. It feels as though we’re both thinking things that would make our parents blush. He asks me about my day at work and whether I had any lives to save. When he asks if I have any plans for the weekend, I think it’s because he’s going to ask me out again, but he doesn’t.

Perhaps he’s waiting to see how tonight goes first.

Some twenty minutes later, we pull up to a quaint restaurant at St Katharine Docks, and Jake reverses—with some skill—into a tight parking space. Outside, I smooth down my dress and hook my bag over my body as he gestures toward the restaurant. It’s a two-story building with a pretty wraparound terrace. It looks busy, but not overly so.

When he slips his hand into mine as we walk toward the door, my stomach flutters, which is ridiculous because what age am I? Thirteen? Also, it seems chaste for him. Who knew Jake was a hand-holder? I like the feel of his firm hand in mine.

As we get closer, I see it’s an Italian, and as soon as the door opens, the familiar scent of pasta, garlic, and bread fills my nose, making my stomach growl. Immediately, a man in his late fifties perhaps comes toward us, beaming, with his hand out. Jake shakes his hand and turns to me.

“Leo, this is Alex,” he says softly.

“Ahh, Alex, it’s a pleasure to meet you,cara ...” He leans in to kiss me on both cheeks. “I’m Leo. Welcome, welcome.” Leo smiles in a fatherly way while Jake scans the restaurant with keen eyes, as though he’s carrying out a risk assessment.

“You’ve got my table, yeah?” Jake asks him, and Leo nods before leading us to the back of the restaurant where a cozy, secluded booth with green leather seats, a dark wood table, and those candles made of wine bottles awaits.

Leo offers to take my jacket, and Jake shrugs out of his too. Though, as he does, an image of him stripping for me in my bedroom blasts loud and hot into my mind, and my mouth waters. Swallowing, I slide into the booth trying to appear nonchalant and not as though I’m having mind-sex with Jake.

“Some wine for you both?” Leo offers.

I nod, and someone hands him a bottle of red. It’s barbera and has an expensive label, and I watch as Leo pours a small taster into a glass and slides it to Jake. He shakes his head and gestures toward me. With a nod, Leo offers me the glass instead.

I lift it to my nose to have a sniff before taking a small sip. It’s good. Not French, but still rich and full-bodied and perfect for Italian food.

“It’s lovely. I’ll have a small glass please,” I tell Leo with a polite smile, and he pours us two large glasses of what I’m sure must be his best wine.

Jake presses the top button on his phone and turns it facedown on the table then looks up at me again. Yes, he definitely looks nervous or on edge. His normally cool demeanor is unusually ruffled. It makes me smile.

“Anything else for you at the moment?” Leo asks my date before looking at me.

Jake doesn’t look at him, just shakes his head and keeps his eyes on me.

“Um, some water, maybe?” I say to Leo, who nods politely and departs. “So ...” I begin.

“So.”

---