Beau chuckled again, and the low, husky rumble of it made goosebumps flash across her skin. The butterflies that had remained present in her midriff since she’d open the door to him at her apartment fluttered around crazily in her middle. He stood, then reached one of those strong, capable looking hands toward her. “Come on, I’ll roll you out of here.”
Val’s mouth dropped open in a surprised laugh but placed her hand in his. The warmth of it as he closed his fingersaround hers made those butterflies do nosedives in her stomach, sending heat to the very core of her. God, it had been a long time since she’d felt arousal like this…
But it was Beau. Beau, the man that had always watched out for her. That would never see her as anything other than the add-on sister he’d never had. The man that had made a promise to her dying father to take care of her, her mother, and her sisters. The man that would willingly take a pathetic, lonely woman out on a fake Valentine’s date. That’s all this was.
And she needed to remind her traitorous, sex-starved body of that fact before it got any crazy ideas. Anycrazierideas.
Because lord was her brain in overdrive.
Rising to her feet with Beau’s hand still clasped around hers, she smoothed the tulle of her skirt down over her hips with her free hand. She picked up the red velvet clutch and together—handsstillclasped—they walked toward the front of the restaurant. She hoped that Beau couldn’t feel her hand tremble in his.
As they approached the hostess stand, the hostess disappeared and returned with Beau’s leather jacket and her wool shawl. Taking the shawl from the hostess, Beau finally released her hand and held the shawl up for her to slide her arms into. She reached for the long ties on either side of her waist, but he brushed her hands aside and she thought she just might die when he began to secure them into a bow at her waist. Cinching her up, he ran his fingers up the overlapping sides as they crossed over her chest, tugging lightly until it was closed clear up to her chin.
Val’s heart thudded in her chest as she stared up at him. She knew her mouth was hanging open dumbly, but her brain wouldn’t communicate with the rest of her to shut the damn thing. His fingers strummed along the column of her throat, and she sucked in a staggered breath.
Then, as calmly as he’d tucked her into her shawl, he backed away, turning to retrieve his jacket from the hostess and slide it on his arms. Adjusting it over his wide shoulders, she simplystood in front of him, completely dumbstruck. Was she that buzzed, or was Beau really just that intoxicating all on his own?
Beau’s hand at the small of her back as he led her out the door was warm and steady. His hand slid around her waist as they made their way down the brick-paved walkway to the sidewalk, dusted with snow and slick with ice. He reached out and opened the passenger door for her, assisting her into the low riding vehicle before closing the door and hurrying around the hood. He slid in behind the wheel and started it, adjusting the thermostat and the blowers to start warming up the interior of the car. Val shivered and pressed her frozen fingers under the outside of her thighs so that she was sitting on them.
Teeth chattering, she turned to look at him as he rubbed his hands together to warm them. He chuckled through the dim interior, one of the cities wrought iron light posts shining flickering beams of light into the car. “It should warm up in just a few. I don’t have remote start.”
“I wouldn’t expect a vintage car to have remote start, Beau,” she laughed, teeth still chattering, but the interior was already warming up, helping her muscles to relax just a little. He reached out and adjusted the direction of the blower so that it was focused more on her, and she sighed when the heat really started to sink into her bones. She untucked her hands from under her thighs and reached back for the seat belt, pulling it across her to snap it into place. Val watched under her lashes as Beau did the same, and then he was shifting gears and pulling out of the parking spot and into the narrow two-lane street. The wind howled outside of the car, but it was toasty inside.
The drive back to their apartment building was short and quiet, neither of them breaking the silence other than the soft rock music playing from the car’s stereo. Beau pulled into his designated parking spot outside of their apartments and turned toward her. “Stay put.”
She nodded and her lips pulled into a grin as he climbed outof the car and rounded the hood again, coming to open her door. Assisting her out of the low seat, his hand was once again wrapped around hers firmly.
“I promise I won’t fall, Beau,” she said with a roll of her eyes when he refused to release her hand as they walked the short way to the door.
“And my mother would skin me alive if I didn’t escort a woman wearing deathtraps on her feet on an icy sidewalk,” Beau muttered darkly, but she could see the dimple in his cheek peeking as he tried to suppress a smirk. He squeezed her hand. “I won’t hesitate to carry you, so don’t tempt me.”
“Such a gentleman,” she sighed as he held the door open to their building. And still, he refused to release her, even as they started their way up the long flight of stairs that led to the landing that separated their two apartments at the top. He stepped with her toward her door, and she squeezed his hand gently as she murmured quietly, “Thank you for dinner, Beau.”
He finally released her hand so she could dig into the velvet clutch in her other hand for her key.
“Do you want to come in?” she asked as she stepped inside, holding the door open for him to follow her. “You have to help me eat the strawberries you brought. I can’t possibly eat them all myself.”
She held her breath, watching him as he tried to come up with an excuse not to, but then he sighed and stepped through the door and let her close it behind him. She untied the sash at her waist, drawing the shawl off her shoulders and hanging it on a hook by the door before she led the way into the main room. Her heels tapped lightly on the hardwood floor as she crossed to the refrigerator, pulling it open and producing a chilled bottle of champagne and the chocolate covered strawberries she’d placed in there earlier.
She handed the bottle to him wordlessly as he reached the tiny island in the center of the kitchen, where the bouquet ofroses sat in the center. She set the box of strawberries down and crossed to a floating shelf along the wall and plucked two stemmed champagne flutes down before returning to the island. She then crossed the room again, queuing up a small, portable Bluetooth speaker by the kitchen sink. Val scrolled through her phone and picked a Spotify playlist of classic slow rock love ballads, just because of the occasion.
She walked around the rooms and lit two candles in the living room and one in the kitchen, turning the rest of the lights down low.
He’d managed to get the decorative foil off the champagne, then wrapped the neck with a dishtowel and removed the cork with a sharp pop. He poured the effervescent alcohol into first one flute, then the other, handing her one.
She raised her glass toward him, and she watched as he clinked his to hers gently, the light tinkling of the crystal the only sound in the room other than the quiet music that drifted over to them.
“May crappy, cheating ex-husbands and douchebag dates be a thing of the past,” she murmured softly, raising the glass to her lips. “And may we both be happy in our singlehood.”
Beau shook his head, laughing quietly. “That’s a terrible toast. You can’t make that a Valentine’s Day toast.”
“Oh yeah? Well, whatshouldI toast to?” she asked, her tone snarky. “That tall, tattooed, bearded lumberjack that’s going to give me two dozen orgasms?”
“I’m going to give you a small piece of advice, Val,” he murmured low, leaning his back against the edge of the island, turning his head to look at her with those intense dark eyes. “You can’t be afraid to start over again. You don’t need a new chapter, sweetheart. Start a whole new book.”
Tears stung her nose and sprang to her eyes and she blinked rapidly so he wouldn’t see. She took a long sip of her champagne, and watched out of the corner of her eyes as he lifted his glass tohis lips. He made a face as the bubbly liquid met his tongue, and she laughed lightly. “I have some whiskey if you’d like to sip that instead?”
“No, this is fine. It’s just been a long time since I’ve had any reason to drink champagne,” he chuckled, setting the glass down on the counter beside them.
