“This shit goes left, we’re fighting next time I’m home,” I warned.
She laughed. “Yeah, alright. Just make sure you send some pics so I can see the full ‘fit.”
We ended the call, and I stared at the dress in its box.
This date was beginning to feel like the point of no return.
By 7:55, I was ready to turn heads. I was pleased with my decision to slick my hair back into a high ponytail. The Versace dress hugged my curves without feeling restrictive. The stilettos made my legs look longer, which I loved. I kept the accessories simple—diamond studs, my gold J initial necklace, and the Van Cleef bracelet my parents got me for my thirty-fifth birthday.
I snapped a few selfies in front of my full-length mirror to send to Amber. I had to admit—Cash had impeccable taste.
My phone buzzed.Speak of the devil.
“You ready for me?”
The deep timbre of Cash’s voice sliding through the phone made my pussy thump.
“Do I have a choice?” I asked, trying to sound unbothered even though my palms felt clammy.
“Nah, you don’t,” he laughed. “Come downstairs so I can see how good you look.”
“Here I come.”
I grabbed my clutch off the dining room table. Running my hands over my hair, I took one last look in the mirror and headed out.
My heels clicked against the marble floor of the quiet lobby. Outside, Cash’s Cayenne sat at the curb like it had been earlier—but this time, he was leaning against the passenger side. A few women walking past gave him double takes, but he paid them no mind. His eyes were locked on me, smile widening as I approached.
“Okay, okay—” he nodded, holding his hand out. “—you got that shit on, sweetheart.”
My cheeks warmed as I placed my hand into his.
He spun me around slowly, his eyes drinking in every inch of me. “I don’t know if I want anyone else seeing you in this,” he murmured, wrapping his arms around my waist. His hands drifted lower to cup my ass.
“Behave,” I said, swatting his chest playfully.
He licked his lips. “I don’t know how behaved I can be when you look like this,” he chuckled, before opening the door for me.
“So where we going that you got me all gussied up?” I asked once he got in and started the car.
“You don’t like surprises?”
“After all this?” I looked down at the leather dress and heels.
“The limit does not exist,” he said with a grin.
I blinked. “Nigga, did you just quoteMean Girls?”
“What? It’s a classic,” he said, completely serious.
I lost it, doubling over with laughter. “I’m sorry—but picturing your gangsta ass watching a Lindsey Lohan movie is hilarious.”
“I contain multitudes, baby.”
We laughed and kept the conversation light until he pulled up in front ofLe Flambeau. I’d seen the French steakhouse all over social media but never had a reason to go. And I definitely couldn’t afford it on a nurse’s salary.
Cash handed the keys to the valet and came around to open my door.
“Let me find out you got home training,” I smirked, taking his hand.
