Page 20 of Witch Please

“If I ever got married? Definitely.” She flashed him a teasing grin. “But you’re pushing ahead again. At the park, you were all about your bed and meeting your dog. Now you’re asking about my wedding plans.”

Titus went rigid, eyeing her with tangible fear. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

“Relax, I’m teasing you. One moment…” Danica went into the front room, visible from the foyer, and set the flowers on the coffee table, adjusting the magazines so the arrangement looked as if it had always been there. “How does that look?”

“Beautiful,” he said, but he wasn’t looking at the bouquet or her impromptu efforts at interior design.

Butterflies fluttered in her stomach. Though she was trying to control her reaction to him, there was no doubt thathewas gorgeous. Beard perfectly trimmed, hair tousled in gentle curls, long lashes, thick brows, and a jaw so chiseled that statues would be envious. That didn’t even account for his broad shoulders, his defined arms, and the soft-brown eyes currently gazing at her with so much warmth that her toes curled.

Her magic sparked a little, and she felt it in her veins, like when she tried to cast after downing too much champagne. Not a mistake she made anymore, but she’d been young and reckless once. With effort, she sealed the fluttering current of her magic and walked toward him. She could tell that he’d dressed carefully for their date, ironed his pants and shirt. Really, she was more interested in dragging him upstairs and stripping himoutof those clothes than in finishing this date properly, but it was too soon for that. Titus didn’t seem like the sort of man who was looking for a hookup, and she couldn’t have anything serious with him.Ugh, why is he so delicious?

“You’re staring,” he said huskily.

“So I am. Should I apologize?”

“It depends on why.”

“Shall I be tactful, or do you prefer the truth?”

He flinched, as if he secretly suspected there must be some terrible reason. “The truth is always best, even if it’s disagreeable.”

She took a step closer. “I was thinking that your clothes would look better on my floor. We’d better go to dinner if you want to get out of here with your virtue intact.”

Titus sucked in a sharp breath and put a hand on the wall, bracing himself. “That’s…not what I expected you to say. At all.”

“It’s up to you.”

“We should…proceed with the date. I don’t want to rush things between us.”

Dammit.Well, she didn’t think that would work anyway. Nothing ventured, nothing gained. Danica checked her bag and then gestured for him to lead the way. Outside, his Nissan Leaf was parked in front of her house, such a cute and unassuming ride, perfect for Titus. He opened the door and closed it for her afterward, and somehow it was even more adorable seeing a tall guy fold himself into a compact electric car.

“Where are we headed?”

“It’s a surprise, a little place I discovered recently. They’re newly opened, and I love the food. I hope you will too.”

Titus drove like he did everything—with quiet confidence—and Danica settled in to enjoy the ride. He didn’t protest when she fiddled with the radio, settling on a station out of Chicago. Ten minutes later, they pulled into a strip mall. None of the places looked too interesting, but he parked in front of Burma Kitchen. She tended to be experimental with her meals, and she’d never tried Burmese food.

“I didn’t even know this was here!”

“You seem excited.”

“Absolutely. I can’t wait to try everything.” For once, she didn’t mean to be suggestive, but Titus stilled, his gaze fixed on her mouth.

He swallowed once, twice, and leaned slightly her way. He touched her cheek, tracing a fingertip lightly downward, drifting toward her mouth with a restless compulsion.

Then he caught himself. Pulled back.

I really want to kiss him. I refuse to go home until I find out whether his lips feel as good as I imagine.

***

Dear God.

With effort, Titus gave himself a silent pep talk as he slid out of the Leaf and jogged around to get her door. She already had her hand on the handle, not making it easy for him to be a gentleman. It wasn’t that he thought she couldn’t open her own door, but he wanted Danica to know that she was special, worth putting in extra effort.

Anxiously, he watched her face as they went into the restaurant together. The decor was simple, nothing extravagant, but they’d need to go into the city for a superposh dining experience. Burma Kitchen was half full, the tables simple wood and metal. The walls were painted ecru and bamboo green, with judicious use of fabrics and screens to attempt to add privacy and elegance.

Kham Keow, the owner of Burma Kitchen, greeted Titus with a friendly wave. “Good to see you. And your lovely guest. Sit anywhere you like.”

---