I had never been soembarrassed in all my life, although past humiliations had never paid off like this.
My writing time was usually before dawn, before God and the sun were up, when I could guarantee no distractions.
My little sister had caught me talking to myself a few times or making strange gestures in the air when she’d woken up early. I never knew if these were common writer idiosyncrasies or if I was just weird, but I’d never given it a second thought since I was in the privacy of my home office. I’d created a secluded corner against my living room wall, with only my thirteen-year-old sister to catch me making a fool of myself when I’d get lost in the moment.
When I’d hit that dreaded halfway point in my manuscript where I always wound up stuck, I’d been desperate to figure out a way to get past the block and finish this damn thing, but nothing had worked.
I had a free day and night for a change, so I trekked to Williamsburg from my brownstone apartment in Park Slope. I’d settled at a table on the outside terrace of a new hotel, armed with a large coffee and a mission for five thousand words by the time I went home.
I’d finally nailed the scene I’d been needling with all damn day and pumped out my arms in celebration, one fist landing right into the granite gut of the most gorgeous man I’d ever seen.
When I met his hazel gaze, I’d fallen into a full-body panic. People had been arrested and sued for much less, but not only wasn’t he mad, he’d seemed to get a kick out of it.
And then he asked me to have dinner with him.
Things like this didn’t happen in my life, at least not off the page. I’d always found Williamsburg fascinating, thanks to the diversity of its residents: families, hipsters, and some corporate types. The area was homey yet industrial, and I could attach a story to anything and anyone I’d see when I’d stroll along the sidewalks.
But this was the first timeIwas the story.
Silas followed me down the street to the taco place I’d planned to visit in celebration before my subway train ride home, about half a block away from the hotel. The warmth from his presence behind me radiated down my back, the nape of my neck tingling from the feel of his eyes on me.
I’d fumbled through an apology, mortified that I’d gotten so lost in my story that I didn’t know where I was or what I was doing, but I’d sworn I’d felt an odd yet potent crackle between us. I was scrambling for what else to do or say when I’d offered to buy this strange man coffee as penance for jabbing him in what felt like a rock-hard six-pack.
His gaze lingered on me as if he were taking me in, although I wasn’t sure if he was just trying to decipher if I was crazy or not.
If it was the latter, I couldn’t blame him, although he didn’t seem that put off by it if he wanted to have dinner with me.
This restaurant wasn’t fancy, and I’d always loved the dive bar feel as much as their guacamole, but as I stood behind him waiting to be seated, I felt very underdressed. I couldn’t help giving him a once-over, his muscles working under the sportscoat snug enough to accentuate his tapered waist and the black pants that made his ass sing.
I’d taken him for a corporate type, but most suits wouldn’t have been so easygoing after a strange woman punched them in the stomach. His full beard was cropped close enough to make out his chiseled jaw. His dark hair was short and neat, but longer in the back. It looked soft and lush, beckoning me to run my fingers through it or grab a fistful.
Jesus, what was wrong with me today? I needed to get out of romance-writer mode since this was real life and I couldn’t openly drool over this very kind man who wanted to have dinner with me instead of having me arrested for public assault.
My mouth watered as I eyed a tray of margaritas on top of the bar, tempted to double fist them to both get over the embarrassment of how we’d met and relax enough to make conversation.
The inside lights were dim as usual, even though it was more late afternoon than early evening, but when Silas’s hazel eyes met mine, the lights made them seem an almost translucent gold. My eyes fixated on his—again—until he pointed behind us.
I was so into whatever reaction I was having to this man, I hadn’t noticed the hostess leading us to a table.
“Hope this is okay,” I said after we slid into one of the booths. The cracked vinyl brushed along the back of my jeans as I set my bag next to me. “This was the first thing I could think of and where I’d planned to go anyway.”
I nodded a thank-you to the waitress when she set down two glasses of water, and I took two gulps, the cool liquid down my throat centering me enough to unclench my shoulders.
“This is fine. Like I said, I didn’t know where to go and was distracted by too many options.” He shot me a crooked smile, heating my insides all over again.
Had I ever had dinner with a man this attractive? If I had, it had been long enough ago that I couldn’t recall it. Hell, when was the last date I’d had? Life blurred pretty damn fast when you had two jobs and a kid.
“I’d like to treat you. It would make me feel better about the whole punching you in the stomach thing.”
“You don’t have to treat me,” he said with a deep chuckle that permeated down to my toes. “You didn’t hurt me. And having dinner with a beautiful woman isn’t a hardship. No need to treat.”
Heat crept up my neck at the raspy way he’d said I was beautiful. Having dinner with a handsome stranger already seemed reckless, but my full-body reactions to Silas were trouble for more reasons than I wanted to consider.
And couldn’t even if I did want to.
I watched him as he studied the menu, a crease between his dark brows as his eyes roamed back and forth.
This was not the example I worked like hell to set for my sister. Our mother went off with different men all the time, but I wasn’t her. Or at least, I was trying like hell not to be.
