“Shit.” Wilder took a step back and blinked slowly. “You look incredible.” He whistled low and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Want to stay home instead?”
Giggling I almost agreed but I hadn’t rubbed cocoa body butter into every inch of my skin and spent almost an hour on my makeup to stay home.
“As much as I’d love to,” Wilder said, holding out a hand for me, “you look too damn beautiful for it just to be for my eyes. You deserve to be shown off, Brownie.”
I grabbed my coat and purse and then took his hand.
“Wait, let’s get your coat on, it’s cold out here.” He took it from me and helped me into the red wool coat that I’d paid a ridiculous amount of money for with one of my first paychecks in Kentucky. Once it was on he turned me and kissed me softly. “Time to go beautiful.”
As he led me to his truck, the butterflies swooped higher.
Calling it beautiful didn’t come close. The restaurant glowed with soft, amber light that danced off cut glass and flickered from candles tucked into corners. A jasmine tree stood at the center, its delicate scent curling through the air as its blossoms trailed along trellised branches overhead. Fronds draped down from the ceiling, casting shadows like lace and wrapping the room in an intimate, fragrant cocoon. At the edges, soft music played low, barely there, just enough to melt everything gently into place.
As we were led to our table I didn’t know where to look. It was sensory overload with mirrors, candlelight, perfume and glass and with Wilder’s hand at the small of my back, his thumb slowly rubbing up and down, it felt like every inch of my skin was on fire.
At the table, Wilder held my chair out for me and when I sat he dropped a kiss to my bare shoulder.
There was already a bottle of wine chilling in an ice bucket, and I gave a quiet gasp when I saw it was my favorite. One I’d mentioned to Wilder once.
“Did you call ahead?” I asked as the waitress left us with menus.
“I wanted to be sure they had the wine you like.” He reached for the bottle having told the waiter he would pour. “They had to buy it in.”
“Wilder!”
He filled my glass. “You deserve it. You don’t mind me getting this, do you?”
“God, no. I love this wine. Thank you.”
We lifted our glasses for a cheer and Wilder said, “Make sure you look into my eyes when we cheer.”
“Okay?”
“Yep, if we don’t it's seven years of bad sex.”
“Really?”
“Yeah, really and I for one do not want to bring that to the party, Brownie. Do you?”
My heart flipped a couple of times, wondering if he was hinting at something that I wasn’t sure I could live without.
Dinner had been perfect. The steak was cooked to perfection; the chocolate dessert made my taste buds tingle all while Wilder did and said everything to make me feel special. And my gosh did he succeed. He held my hand between courses, poured my wine and even moved his chair around the table so it was next to mine.
When it was time to pay the check he handed his card over and wouldn’t even consider letting me pay my half. Which was why I insisted on us going to a bar afterward for me to buy him a drink, even if it was a Coke.
“You want to grab a table,” Wilder said. “I’ll get the drinks.”
“Nuh uh. You get the table, and I’ll get the drinks.”
He raised an eyebrow. “Compromise. Let’s go together.”
“Okay, but I’m buying.”
He narrowed his eyes on me but took my hand and led me to the bar. Once we reached the brass topped bar, Wilder stood behind me and caged me in with his arms.
“What do you want, honey?” I asked over my shoulder.
“A Bud Zero.”
