“Yes, please.”
We were led to a two-top close to the bar. Bigger tables with families and kids took up the main area.
I helped hang Summer’s coat on the back of her chair and pulled her seat out. Her sweet scent washed over me, reminding me of twisted sheets and low moans. My mood wasn’t so sour that I didn’t notice. She sat, giving me a demure smile that went straight to my cock.
The hostess continued to talk as I limped around her and took my coat off. “Our specials are the twelve-ounce ribeye with your choice of salad and potato and a surf-and-turf plate that is our most popular item on the menu. Can I help you with anything else before your server arrives?” She spared me a quick glance and sent her focus right back to Summer.
“No, thank you,” Summer replied.
I glowered at my menu. This night had barely started. Summer was fielding all the questions. Was I that hideous? I thought I’d cleaned up well. I hadn’t felt as good as I did tonight in years. Yet... the young girl could hardly look at me.
Summer had a big heart and her reaction to me was genuine, but I’d let her down. I couldn’t explain how.
The burn of her stare finally caught my attention. I lifted my gaze and she arched a brow. Her eyes twinkled under the lights of the restaurant. She was getting more gorgeous as the night progressed.
“Why’d you get all moody?” she asked.
“I’m not all moody.” I hadn’t read a word on the menu, but I’d kept my feelings to myself. Yet I was still turning into a shitty date.
“Spill it, Dunn.”
I set my menu down. “That young girl was scared of me.”
Summer peered toward the hostess station. “Why do you think that?”
“She could barely look at me after she saw the scar.”
A laugh sputtered from between her lips. “Seriously?”
“Why wouldn’t I be? Didn’t you notice?”
Summer tapped her finger on the table as she thought. “A few things. One, she’s probably in college, so she’s notyoungyoung. Two, she’s probably paying more attention to me since women are more comfortable talking to the woman over the guy. Servers do it to get tipped better. Can’t have me thinking she’s into you.” She ticked her finger up for the last point. “You think revulsion is why she can’t look at you?”
“Fear.”
She snickered again. “That’s not why.” She dug her phone out of her coat pocket, tapped the screen, and turned it toward me.
She’d put on the camera. I was looking at myself.
“That guy look scary? Or so insanely hot you’re worried your panties will combust?”
The tips of my ears flamed hot. “Summer.”
She kept the camera aimed at me. “I know which one I’m leaning toward.” She wiggled in her seat.
Lust kindled stronger in my gut. The only woman I cared about being into me was sitting across from me. Didn’t mean Summer was right. “I don’t think?—”
“You don’t need to. I understand her better than you.” She finally tucked the damn phone away. “I’m telling you, you’re hot. That scar is alluring, yes, but it doesn’t take the spotlight. The rest of you does.”
My face was going to be beet red. “Point taken.”
She smiled, triumphant. “Good.”
“It’s not like that in Bourbon Canyon.”
She thought for a moment, her pink lips pursed. “They know you though. They’ve heard stories that probably make you sound feral. People are probably afraid of how you’ll react.” She leaned forward. “But I bet a lot of them still think you’re handsome.”
I might’ve cared about other women’s opinions before Summer’s wedding. I didn’t now.
