I sigh in relief. “That sounds perfect.”
I don’t know who this woman is. The woman who can’t order for herself off a menu. Who wants a total stranger to hold her hand across the table and ease her nerves. But something about Phantom makes me want to give control over to him. It makes no sense. I’ve cut the hair of plenty of attractive guys in the salon. I’ve been on a handful of dates over the years. But this man is powerful but gentle.
Phantom is a mystery. One that I can’t believe I’m not just falling deeper into, but I’m running toward at full speed.
The waitress returns with two drinks, and as soon as she sets them down, Phantom lifts his to toast.
“To the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen agreeing to have dinner with me.” Coming from anyone else, I might have rolled my eyes. Coming from Phantom, that line makes heat pool between my legs.
I lift my glass and toast with him, then take a long sip. “Ooh,” I say, the alcohol hitting me fast. “That goes down way too easy.”
“Let it,” he says. “Enjoy it.”
He takes a sip of his drink, then points to my ring finger. “That ink for your ex?”
I nod, then trace my finger over the faded heart that sits where my wedding band used to. “I actually got it after he died,” I explain. “Michael wasn’t a fan of tattoos, and I always wanted one. I figured after he died, he’d probably be okay if the one I got was sort of a tribute to him.”
“That ain’t a problem I ever had.” Phantom grins, shoving the sleeves of his black dress shirt up a little farther. “Probably got my first when I wasn’t much older than Holly.”
That shocks me. “Wow,” I say.
He nods. “My childhood was nothing like what I’m trying to give my girls.”
“I don’t know,” I say, taking another sip of my drink. “I’m not giving Jax the life I dreamed of for him. I try, but I’m tired.” I look him in the eye, suddenly not able to hold back. “I’ve been a single mom for eight years, and I always told myself, it’ll get easier when he’s older, when he goes to school. And Jax is a great kid, I mean, really great. But doing it alone? It never gets easier. Only different.”
Phantom nods. “When you said you were a single mom, I assumed divorce. I’m sorry to hear his old man passed.”
“Thank you.”
The waitress returns. “Phantom, the girls ordered dessert with their dinner. I’ll bring it after they eat their meals, but I assume that’s okay with you?”
He nods. “As long as the boy’s mom says he can have dessert, it’s okay by me.”
The waitress looks to me. “Yes, of course,” I say. I can’t remember the last time I let Jax order dessert. But if I’m ever going to loosen up and live in the moment, this feels like the time to do it.
Phantom places an order for us, and I only half hear him. I’m looking behind us at Jax and the girls, but they seem to be having an incredible time. Maybe this is my sign to do the same. I take another sip of that delicious drink until Phantom’s hand crosses the table and takes mine again. He traces his fingers along the faded ink of my tiny tattoo.
“You were saying?” he asks.
If I was saying something, the thoughts fly right out of my hand at the feel of his fingers against mine. I giggle, and I realize that I’d better sip some water and slow my pace on that drink.
“So, what do you do?” I ask, reaching for a neutral topic. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I remember what my client said about his biker buddies being criminals. “Unless you don’t want to talk about it.”
A lazy smile curls over his lips, and all I can think about is running my hands through his beard. He’s telling me about his club and the businesses they run, but I’m just staring and only half listening. He’s staring right back, with that unbelievable intensity that makes me wish we were alone in a room and not two people at a small table surrounded by our kids and a restaurant full of people.
After I have a few more sips of my drink, the waitress puts a plate in front of me, and I take a bite of the most delicious lobster ravioli I’ve ever eaten. This is officially the best meal I’ve ever had and the best company I’ve been with in ages.
“How did you end up doing hair?” Phantom asks, motioning to the waitress for another round of drinks.
I can’t stop the smile that covers my face. “Well, if you ask my sister, I was born to do hair.” I laugh. “I’ve always loved makeup and hair. I tried dyeing my hair using real bleach when I was twelve because I heard my mom talking about someone being a bleach blonde.” I laugh even harder at the memory. “Of course, that is not how it works.”
Phantom’s eyes follow my every move, and my skin pebbles under his gaze. “I went to community college for one year after high school, trying to figure out if there was anything else I wanted to do. But in the end, I went to beauty school.”
“Why would you go to community college if you knew what you wanted to do?” he asks, studying my face.
I shrug. “Michael, my husband. We were high school sweethearts. He was incredibly ambitious. He really didn’t love the idea of me not going to college, of working on my feet all day.” Phantom’s face falls a bit, but he doesn’t say anything, so I go on. “My mom agreed with him, but I ended up doing what I really wanted to do.”
“How did you end up with your own place?” He’s finished his dinner and is leaning with his elbows onthe table, listening like this is the only place on earth he wants to be.
