Page 22 of Private D!ck

“Don't we have to pay?” Gracie asked. He shook his head.

"Nope, already taken care of.”

“Huh, convenient.”

“Yep,” Chesney said, putting a hand on the back of his chair, “That's what every guy wants to hear. That he's convenient.”

Gracie snorted. “You are definitely inconvenient.”

He grinned cheekily, looking rather proud. The maitre d' gave them a nod and smile as the two of them left. It had gotten dark while they'd been eating. The evening air was warm with just enough of a cool breeze that it didn't feel too sticky.

“Greta,” Chesney said softly, “You would tell me if…”

“If what?”

He frowned and shook his head, the moment breaking.

“I should get home,” he said sadly, getting out his phone. She knew he was about to call an uber but she'd been having so much fun talking to him that she didn't want the evening to end just yet. Her car was in the restaurant parking lot, just a few feet away. It would be the easiest thing in the world to give him a ride home, but did she trust herself to do what was best for the investigation?

Chapter Eight

“You don’t haveto call an Uber. I’ll drive you home.”

Chesney looked up in surprise. “Yeah? You’d do that?”

“Don’t look so surprised! I’m an extremely helpful person.”

He smirked, pocketing his phone. “And modest too.”

Once in the car, Chesney opened his window all the way. The wind poured in, tousling his hair as Gracie drove. He turned on the radio, playing with the stations until he found a song he liked. The sound of a heavy beat and a woman singing flooded the car.

“I haven’t heard this in years.”

Gracie shrugged, sending him a bemused glance. “I don’t know it.”

"What?! This was massive," he wiggled around in his seat, looking goofy. Gracie's smile widened as she realized he was trying to dance. It was painfully cute. “Laugh at me now, but back in the day, I used to know all the lyrics to this. Turn left at the next lights.”

“All the lyrics? That’s quite a boast, c’mon then, let’s hear it.”

Chesney stilled, his smile turning nostalgic as he tried to dredge up the lyrics from some long-forgotten corner of his memory.

“Bad singing voice?” Gracie teased.

“Yep, but I’ve never let that stop me. Jeez, I can’t believe I’ve forgotten this,” Chesney opened his mouth and started what Gracie would only loosely define as singing.

It was probably the bottle of wine, making him more relaxed, but Gracie soaked up the happy confidence in him. A man who was comfortable enough in his own skin to admit his shortcomings and try to sing, even when he knew he couldn’t.

He stopped only when the song ended and he needed to give her more directions:

“And then, take the next right.”

“This is a nice neighborhood. Very expensive,” Gracie noted, her PI instincts rearing up. How could an editor afford a place on Eastleigh Drive?

“You know, you ask a lot of questions. You’re subtle about it, you don’t push but you can pump someone for information without them even noticing.” Chesney’s voice was light and amused, maybe he was only joking around but it made Gracie wonder if she should be on her guard; no matter how cute Chesney’s smile was as he half-closed his eyes, enjoying the simple feeling of the wind on his face.

“Are you offering me a job as a journalist?”

"Ha, Attitude doesn't need any more journalists!”

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