I smirk, narrowing my eyes on him to watch him squirm.Challenge accepted.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and scoot backwards over the console to land on his lap. I kiss across his jaw and interlock my fingers over the back of his hand where it rests on the steering wheel. I lift our hands, guiding his up to my face and down my neck, brushing his palm across the leather of my jacket, then across my chest. The feeling of velvet—and my breast—under his palm seems to overcome his senses. He lets out a stifled groan that is half annoyance, half arousal before leaning back into the headrest.
“You sure about that?” I tease. He opens his eyes and looks down at me; I purposely lick my top lip slowly.
“No… you’re cruel and unkind, and I truly think this dress has magical powers. But please, let tonight be a surprise. I don’t want you in your head all night.” His voice isn’t his usual slow, arrogant tone but sped up and desperate sounding. I cover a small grin with my free hand as he removes his from my body.
“Okay… you win,” I say.
I kiss his mouth as I move away, his lips holding on to mine like a magnet as I turn and fall back into my seat. He whines as he ends our kiss, as if he already regrets every decision he’s made that will prolong this evening.
“All right—I’m driving, I’m driving!” He turns, jaw tensing, and reverses out of the parking spot.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
“This place is fancy…” I hum as Warren pulls up to a semi-circle driveway where two men in uniforms stand, waiting to park cars. Warren doesn’t speak as he hops out and runs in front of the car to open my door. “I can do that,” I say as I take his hand.
“Well, yes, I know you can. But I want to.” He pulls me onto the curb before handing the keys to the valet with a quick nod of appreciation. He lets out a long sigh as we both look towards the entrance. I turn to face him; he adjusts his jacket and gives me a weak half smile.
“Do you want to go somewhere else? I’m happy—” My voice is hesitant before he interrupts.
“This place is fine.”
I sigh, looking at the warm yellow glow from the sign above the doors. It’s perfect—a classic date restaurant.“Well, it’s great but—”
“Really, let’s go inside.” Warren fixes his collar, his tone flat and unconvincing.
“Warren, you seem uncomfortable.” He stops and turns as another couple exits through the gold and glass doors; the sound of a quartet playing comes from inside before the entrance is sealed again. He moves us out of the couple’s way, leading me with a hand on my waist. “I really appreciate it but—”
“Chloe, I’m not nervous because of the restaurant.” He looks down at me, hands fidgeting in his pockets. “It doesn’t matter where we go. You’ll still be the most gorgeous woman in the room, and I’ll still be the guy trying to figure out how he’s with her.” He pauses, studying me, then tilts his head and smiles. “People are nervous on first dates. Aren’t you even a little nervous?”
“I guess I’m not…”How the tables have turned.
“I want you to have a good time.” Warren brings one hand out of his pocket and tucks a curl away from my jaw, placing it behind my ear.
“Then, let’s go in.” I smile and wrap my arm through his.
Once inside, we give our name to the hostess standing behind a wooden desk and follow her to a small, private table next to a foggy window. The restaurant is lit with dim overhead chandeliers and a single candle on each round table. There is a bottle of champagne on ice and two glasses awaiting us with a note.
“We’re rooting for you kids. Love, Ram and Belle,” I read it out loud to Warren as he places his jacket on the back of his chair.Wow, he is beautiful.The light from the candle flickers and is reflected in his eyes. I catch my breath as the server comes over.
“Good evening. May I open the bottle for you?”
“Yes, thank you.” She pours two glasses over the top of her arm, and I think I truly must be in a movie—at least aHallmarkspecial of some kind. My firstrealdate.
“I’ll give you a moment with the menus.” She fills two smaller glasses with water, then leaves us.
I open the small menu and catch a glimpse of the prices. My eyes go wide, and before I speak, Warren reaches out and tips the menu down, going over the top of it to grab my hand.
“Do not look at the prices,” Warren says, raising a brow. “Promise me.”
I nod, lying.
“I’ll be paying. Not because you don’t work hard and earn your own money, but because I chose this restaurant.”
I smile, willing to agree if it relaxes him a little.
“And would you just stop looking so incredible for five seconds so I can finish a thought without wanting to jump over this table? Damn, you’re beautiful, Chloe.” The sincerity in his tone makes me swallow without meaning to. I don’t let go of his hand as I read the menu.
