Instead, Da Vinci's Grove had an ambiance that screamed,“Our cheapest food option starts at thirty dollars.”Low lights, candles on the table—real candles, not those LED ones that staff didn't bother to change once the battery ran out—and if you listened carefully, soft classical tones played through the discreet speakers.
Patrons sat at white cloth tables, all dressed immaculately. Women wore their finest dresses or pantsuits, and not a single male wore a polo shirt or shorts. They matched their partnerswith suits and smart-looking dress shirts that shimmered under the low lights.
I glanced down at my own attire, relieved that I chose another conservative number. I was used to living bold and provocatively—low-cut tops to draw attention to my generous breasts, short skirts and shorts to showcase my long legs. I’d kept my hair long and perfectly shiny—for some reason it made men want to yank it as they shoved my throat over their cocks or pounded me roughly from behind.
My green cocktail dress covered my chest completely and fell respectively just above my knees. My makeup was light and subtle, and I styled my choppy lob with just the barest of waves. I thought it accentuated my high cheekbones and brought out the sparkle that had been dead in my eyes for a while.
I gazed across at Brian, taking in his dimpled smile and soft brown eyes—eyes that never dropped below my chin. He was the reason the sparkle returned.
Admittedly, I had a wobble this week when I suspected that Brian was pulling away. We had such an unexpected and wonderful lunch together in my office. My cheek tingled all day from where he stroked it before leaving. He even texted me before leaving work, promising to call me that night.
But then…nothing.
I waited until midnight for his call to come through before my heavy eyelids naturally fell closed.
When I woke to an empty phone, I finally reached out.
Busy. Tired. Phone died.
For some reason, those excuses didn't ring true. Was it because I started to question him about his late wife? I’d been in two minds on how to broach the subject, so I decided just toask. I didn't feel any jealousy toward her; that would be stupid. But it was natural to be curious. I’d never dated a widower, so I had no idea where Brian was on the grief scale. Of course, a significantpart of me was nosey as hell about the woman he loved enough to marry. When it became clear that Brian was uncomfortable, I immediately backed off.
Throughout the week, his contact was scarce and impersonal. He was definitely not the same attentive and caring person he had been before our lunch. I was a wreck thinking he was done with me.
Thankfully, my worries disappeared when he greeted me with a soft, lingering kiss. His eyes seared my body as they roamed over my form.
"You look fucking incredible," he’d complimented.
A warm, large hand settled on mine, and I immediately turned my palm up to clutch it. I gave Brian a sultry smile as he stroked my hand with his thumb. Sparks of awareness shot down my stomach straight to my pussy; reminding me that I hadn't been laid in a while. And as much as it pained me, I wouldn't be getting any tonight.
I gave an internal indulgent sigh. This is what I deserved. A third date with a respectable and handsome man who kissed me goodbye without trying to stick his hand up my skirt. Someone who talked to me about his day and ordered a meal instead of quickly downing his beer so we could head back to mine for sex. Someone who listened and cared about my opinions.
And bonus points that I wanted to climb him like a tree. It was early days, but I was eighty percent confident that I found that with Brian.
"Are you okay, sweetheart?"
Sweetheart.
My heart melted at the endearment Brian had started calling me. No longer was I "babe," "sweet cheeks," or the eye roll-inducing "sugar tits." I didn't have to pretend to giggle and simper up at men while my insides twisted that I was again being treated like a piece of ass.
I flashed him a broad smile, genuinely happy to be here. With him. "I'm fine. I've always wanted to come here. Thank you for bringing me."
He squeezed my hand. "You're welcome, sweetheart. I've enjoyed spending time with you."
He licked his lips before speaking again, but my eyes were drawn to his full bottom lip. I almost broke my “celibate until commitment” rule when I kissed those lips after our first date. The man knew how to kiss. Which meant he hopefully knew his way around the female body.
But more than his physical attributes and possible bedroom skills, Brian also gave me those butterfly flutters. I could spend hours talking with him, laughing with him, and not grow bored. I didn't have that douse of ice-cold water down my spine when I tried to get to know a guy, only to realize that his attention was drifting everywhere but at me. Knowing that they were counting down the hours until they could get me on my back or knees.
No such thing with Brian. He made me feel wanted and seen.
"...not ready for anything serious. But I do miss being physical with someone and was hoping that you were open to a purely sexual arrangement."
I blinked as my mind finally moved away from my daydream and focused on his words. I stared at him blankly as he peered at me with a hopeful smile. The more I stared at him, the more his features started to blur as my mind finally computed what he had just said.
My chest rose and fell in rapid strokes as a small rock formed in my throat. That ice-cold water dangled above me, teetering on the edge.
After an extended silent period, the light behind Brian's eyes dimmed, and a look of uncertainty crept in. He glanced to the side before squeezing my hand, probably checking that I still had signs of life.
"Sweetheart?"
