“It’s perfect.” His eyes perused the length of my body, a whisper of a smile forming on his lips.
Suddenly, I felt warm despite the air conditioning in the bar. I, too, scanned his body and was relieved to see he wore a pair of dark blue jeans and a V-neck black T-shirt.
“Now, are you going to tell me where we’re going for the evening?”
“Are you worried?”
I paused, taking in the smile that lingered on his lips, as his dark eyes studied me. I could get lost in those dark pools, and the mischief swimming in them. In a husky voice, I asked, “Should I be?”
His grin widened and he stepped forward, running a long finger down my jawline. “You can trust me. I’m a firefighter.”
“I bet those same lines have been used on many women right before they dropped their panties for you.”
I noticed a few patrons glance our way when Eric let out a belly laugh at my comment.
“But they all were left satisfied, Angel. Shall we?” He held out his hand for me to walk ahead. When I did, his other hand went to the small of my back and that warm sensation I normally felt whenever he spoke occurred, only tenfold.
I bet they were.If his touch had me feeling like this, I couldn’t even fathom what the main event was like. “Thank you,” I stated, my voice sounding hoarse, as he held his passenger side door open for me.
“My pleasure.” He closed the door and rounded the front of the vehicle to reach the driver’s side. “It’ll take about thirty minutes to get where we’re going due to rush hour. I figured we could have dinner there unless you wanted to do a sit-down dinner.”
“No, I’m game for whatever,” I answered honestly. I liked the idea of him keeping our date a secret for as long as possible. And despite the quip he made earlier about being firefighter, I did feel safe with him. Don’t get me wrong, I wasn’t stupid. I told a friend I was going out on a date tonight and I’d give her a call by a certain time, just in case. But as I eased back into the leather seat of his car I wasn’t worried or in fear of what Eric had planned for us.
“Is it too hot in here for you?” he asked his eyes on the road. “I can turn up the AC.”
I took that as an opportunity to stare at his profile. I’ve always had a thing for men with strong jawlines, and Eric’s was beautifully chiseled.
“It’s perfect,” I mumbled.
When he glanced at me out of the corner of his eye, smirking, I knew thatheknew I wasn’t referring to the temperature.
“No, I’m fine,” I tried to cover up my little flub.
“How long have you owned the bar?” he inquired, turning his attention back to the road.
I continued to stare at him. Hell, since he already knew I was looking, might as well get my fill. “A little over a year and a half.”
“You’ve always wanted to bartend?”
I shook my head even though he wasn’t looking at me. “No, I went to school for restaurant management. Well, I got my associate’s degree in cooking and then my bachelor’s in restaurant management. I did that for three years after college. Worked at one of the most exclusive restaurants in the city as a supervisor, working my way up to become a manager.”
“What happened?”
“Hm?”
“I mean, what made you leave that to open the bar?”
“Oh. Well, I enjoyed the job at first and gained lots of experience, but I realized that I enjoyed interacting with people more, you know? As a supervisor or manager in a restaurant, the only real time you get to spend with customers is if there is a complaint. Otherwise, you’re overseeing the kitchen and waitstaff, putting out fires behind the scenes, or doing a bunch of paperwork. The job can be very demanding, and you work lots of long hours. It got kind of humdrum after a couple of years, and then I had the opportunity to quit, so I did.”
“Why’s that?”
“Why’s what?”
“Why’d you have the chance to quit?”
“Oh, um…” I paused, pulling my lips in, mulling over my next few words. I dropped my gaze down at my hands in my lap. “My parents died. They left Sean and me their life insurance and some investments.” I cleared my throat. “I decided I wanted to go back to what I found fun, so I started bartending as I’d done in college, and when the owner of the bar said he was thinking of selling I didn’t give it a second thought. I bought it, and the rest is history.”
“I’m sorry about your parents. Were you close with them?”
