Good thing my mouthwas empty. His cavalier teasing would have for sure made me choke again. “Yeah,but you like it, Baptiste. You need someone to give you hell lest you continuethinking you’re so special.”
He leaned forwardagain, his arm reaching to the center of the table. “Oh, so that’s what you’redoing? Driving me crazy to keep me humble?”
I found myselfleaning forward too. “Obviously. Is it working?”
“Well, you’redefinitely driving me crazy. I’ll get back to you on the humble part.”
“Maybe I need totry harder.”
His expressiondarkened, his voice dropped, and he became all things irresistible man. “Yes,please.”
Oh my god.Please.One simple, commonplace word,but oh, the power it had over my quivering libido. I might have accidentallyorgasmed.
I pulled back,afraid I would start drooling all over the coq au vin. “You’re trouble, Ezra.So much trouble.”
He sat back too,divinghis fork into the pot of mussels. “You’re one totalk, Molly the Maverick. You’ve been a hell-raiser since the moment I met you.I’m just trying to keep up.”
His accusation mademe pause. That couldn’t be true. I mean, yes we’d fought the first time we metand most of the times we’d been forced to interact since then. But nobody hadever called me a hell-raiser before. Ever.
My senior class hadvoted me Most Likely to be a Kindergarten Teacher. In college, one of the guys I’ddated had broken up with me because we didn’t fight enough. He’d said I wasboring.
I wasn’t a hell-raiseror trouble or difficult in any way. I was nice and easy to get along with. Iwas shy. I was a pushover.
I was thedefinition of the friend zone.
“Should we dodessert?” Ezra asked even though we hadn’t made it through half of the foodhe’d ordered.
“I want to,” I toldhim honestly. “But I have a ton of work to get to tonight.”
He glanced away andI couldn’t tell if he was disappointed or just thoughtful. “Me too actually.”
“Thanks fordinner,” I told him sincerely. “This was so much better than the Hot Pocket Ihad been planning on.”
He laughed becausehe thought I had told a joke.
I hadn’t.
“Well, anytime,Molly. I’m happy to save you from Hot Pockets anytime.”
My cheeks hurt fromsmiling so much. “I’ll be back here Saturday morning to start.Doesnine work?”
“Of course. I’ll behere to let you in. Email me anything you need in the meantime.”
For someone thatnever spoke her mind, I’m not exactly sure what came over me. But I foundmyself reaching out for his hand and saying. “She’s an idiot.” His gaze snappedto mine, a question bright in his eyes. “Elena,” I clarified. “I know you’re inthis way better place and your experience with her opened up all of yourrestaurant opportunities. But honestly, she’s an idiot. You’re difficult, butnot impossible. And you’re definitely a workaholic, but you’re also thoughtful,and caring, and one of the most respectable people I have ever met. You didn’tsend her to another man’s arms, Ezra. She settled for a cheaper version becauseshe wasn’t strong enough to see the amazing man standing right in front ofher.”
He was quiet for solong that I worried I’d offended him. Abruptly, he stood up and held out hishand to me. I took it.
Of course I tookit.
“I’m going to walkyou to your car.”
“O-okay.”
We left the tablewith our discarded meal and cluttered plates and empty wine glasses and he ledme outside. I wasn’t sure he knew what kind of car I drove, but it turned outhe wasn’t really interested in my safety or sending me home.
We stepped outsideBianca and he pulled me into the empty patio area that was still closed downfrom winter. The ivy didn’t have leaves yet. The brick beneath our feet wasuneven. There was still a chill in the air. None of it mattered.
He stepped into me,bringing his body heat with him. The night sky framed his outline, starstwinkling overhead. A nervous tingle spread through my body, starting at mytoes and working its way upward until I was nothing but nerves and anticipationand hope.
