“Hangry,” Dante’s lips quirked, like he could read my mind. “You’re starving. Come on, let’s get out of here for a while and clear our heads.”
“And go where?” I asked with a nervous giggle. “Like… a restaurant?”
Did he mean a quick bite in the car or Italian by candlelight? Either way, I didn’t know what to do with myself.
“None, because an unknown crime family is hunting you, and I’m not putting you out there for grabs. But, I know a place,” he added with a mysterious smile. “Somewhere private where no one will find us.”
I hesitated for just a moment, but the walls were starting to close in on me, and the thought of fresh air was tempting.
“Fine,” I agreed. “But let’s not make it a late night. We’ve got work to do tomorrow.”
“Deal,” he grinned. “Grab a jacket. It might get cold later.”
Twenty minutes later, we were in his car with the windows down. Dante drove away from the city, through the suburbs, until we were straight on the open road.
“Where are we going?” I asked again as we pulled into a drive-through.
“There’s no food where we’re going,” he answered mysteriously once again and placed an order for burgers, fries, and milkshakes. Somehow, he remembered exactly how I liked mine—no onions, extra pickles.
After getting our food, he made one more stop, but told me to wait in the car. When he got in and handed me the bag, I took a peek and saw a bottle of wine and two plastic cups.
“Burgers and wine? Really?” I shook my head in mock protest.
“Don’t knock it till you try it,” he defended himself with a wink that sent a flutter through my stomach, and stayed there.
We drove for almost an hour more, and the scenery around us grew progressively more beautiful, filled with towering trees and winding roads. Finally, Dante turned onto a narrow path I wouldn’t have noticed if he hadn’t taken it.
I craned my neck forward as he drove into a clearing overlooking a lake. The night sky had painted the water silver from the stars above, and I saw dark, shadowy mountains rise in the distance.
“Oh my god,” I breathed. “How did you find this place?”
“I’ve been coming to Harriman State Park since I was young, whenever I had too much going on,” he explained. “And this exact spot? I found it a few years ago when I needed to get away. Never brought anyone here before.”
I snapped my eyes over to him, the admission somehow feeling important. He turned off the engine and shrugged. “It’s no Michelin.”
“But it’s perfect,” I sighed and smiled at him.
He smiled too, and for a few seconds, a comfortable silence lulled over us. For some reason, the moment felt intimate in a way I didn’t want to examine. Not yet.
“So,” I said at last, when staring into his eyes started to burn a hole in my heart. “Are we going to sit in here all night?”
“Right,” he laughed, shaking his head, shaking off the moment. He reached for the food bag. “These burgers aren’t getting any warmer.”
We stepped out and sat on the hood of his car, eating and watching the lake ripple before us.
“You’ve seriously never brought anyone here?” I asked, just to be sure.
I glanced at him and sipped my wine. That meant something, didn’t it?
You’re reading into it, I told myself. Don’t be that girl.
But still—he’d brought me.
“I haven’t.” He shook his head. “Once, I considered bringing Bea.”
“Why didn’t you?”
“Well.” He had a twinkle in his eye. “I took her to a speakeasy first. Next thing I knew, she’d told all her friends. Now? The bouncers hate me, and the place has turned into an overcrowded nightclub.”
