Page 28 of Needing You

Brad picked up his cocktail with a flirty edge to his smile, and all I could hear was the high-pitched whir of a plane careening out of the sky and exploding into a fiery ball when it met the ground.

Poor Brad.

“Your table’s ready,” Jill said as she approached our barstools with two menus in hand.

“Thank you.” I hopped off the stool and grabbed my clutch, sincerely hoping this date might be saved with the help of Antonelli’s famous meatballs. Food helped everything.

And yet, something flickered at the back of my mind as Brad lightly brushed the small of my back while we walked to the table. I needed to adjust my expectations, or this date was doomed no matter what we did. All because that stupidly hot man-child I’d fallen in love with when I was a teen was the only one I’d ever been intimate with.

Of freaking courseit hadn’t occurred to me to be turned on by Brad’s warm breath on my ear or the touch of his fingers on my lower back. The only person I had to compare him to was the center of my world when I was at my most hormonal. Maybe that was the problem. Maybe my senses were duller now that I was older, and I just needed to remind myself that Brad—or someone just like him—might be just the man to give me a nice, stress-free, respectable relationship. There was nothing wrong with that, was there?

“Would you like to share an appetizer?” Brad asked as we perused the menus.

I glanced up to ask him if he liked stuffed mushrooms, but my gaze snagged on a figure walking through the front door.

Son of a bitch.

“What’s wrong?” my date asked, whether because he’d seen something on my face or because I’d just spoken my thoughts aloud, I had no idea.

Chin tipped up in defiance, Will strode through the dining room without stopping to speak to the hostess. And while that should have been my first clue that he wasn’t here to ask for a table of his own, I was still shocked beyond belief when his gorgeous, muscular frame came to a stop at our table.

He wore a black button-down shirt with black slacks, paired with what appeared to be a very expensive leather belt and equally fancy shoes, both of which werealsoblack. It was nearly poetic—the difference between his devilish stare and midnight ensemble and Brad’s innocent confusion paired with cream and khaki.

What was I saying about dulled senses?

“Can I help you?” Brad asked, almost like he thought the restaurant’s manager had come out to ask us if we needed anything.

“No.” Will’s gaze didn’t leave mine as he gave Brad the one-word answer.

I opened my mouth to speak, but Brad held up his hand. “It’s okay, Kate. I can handle this.” Then he looked up at Will with a faintly bemused expression. “Look, I don’t know who you are—”

I could’ve sworn I’d seen a corner of Will’s mouth twitch before he turned to Brad, leaning down and speaking low. “You’re right. You don’t know who I am. But I know whoyouare, and I know you were just leaving.”

Again, I attempted to say something, but this time I was cut off by the sight of Brad’s face going completely pale.Great.Not only had this dark knight ridden in—once again, though this time unnecessarily—and stomped all over my date, but the poor guy across from me was too nice to do anything to stop him.

Sitting back with a huff, I watched as Poor Brad took the white cloth napkin off his lap and set it on top of his forgotten menu. “I’m sorry, Kate. I forgot that I have to… go. Nice to meet you.”

“You too,” I replied with a half-assed wave.

Will stared at him with the expression of a hungry wolf until he disappeared into the night, then grinned triumphantly and took a seat across from me. Lifting a hand, he flagged down our server. “Excuse me, can you please bring me a fresh napkin? A black one, preferably.”

She blinked down at the white one Brad had discarded before he’d left, clearly trying to figure out if she was nuts or if this was a different man than the one she’d brought bread and oil to moments before. “Um, yes, I’ll bring it right back.”

“Thank you,” Will replied with a wink.

Then the asshole turned to me, every bit the bad boy I’d first fallen for fifteen years ago. And for the love of all things holy, that thing Brad had wanted to do when he’d whispered in my ear? Well, Will Walker could do it. And he didn’t even have to try.

14

WILL

Goddamn, the woman looked like a dream. I couldn’t tell whether I’d had this fantasy or whether sliding into her wet blanket of a date’s seat felt this good because it was simplyright.

Whatever the case, I was quite happy to be here, even if Kate was giving me a little glare. Not a huge one—not steaming mad or shocked or, if I was reading her right, even all that surprised. Just… observing the show.

“Can I get you a drink, sir?” The waitress nervously fumbled with her notepad. She must be new since Antonelli’s didn’t let the waitstaff write down orders—unless something major had changed while I’d been gone.

I reeled in some of the rage-fueled caveman energy and smiled at the young woman. “I apologize for the changeup. I’d love a fresh glass of water, when you can, and have you ordered wine?”

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