“Tonight.”
“That’s…” I clear my throat. “That’s soon.”
“I’ve been patient long enough.”Oh. Oh wow.“I’ll pick you up at seven,” he adds. “Wear something warm. And comfortable.”
My brain tries to process too many things at once. “What are we doing?”
“You’ll see.”
I shake my head weakly. “You’re very secretive, sir.”
“And you,” he says, tapping a finger to the latte in my hand, “need food. Go eat. Drink water. And stop worrying about last night.”
“I’m not wor?—”
He raises that eyebrow at me again, and the lie dies on my tongue.
“Okay, I’m worrying a little.”
He tucks a tendril of hair behind my ear, and I forget how to breathe. “Don’t. It was the highlight of my night.”
My stomach swoops, and I miss the faint touch of his hand on my face. “And tonight?” I ask quietly.
He gives me a devastating smile. “Tonight might ruin us both.”
Dear Lord. I amsonot surviving this man.
4
OLIVER
There are a lot of ways to ruin a first date.
Showing up late. Not showing up at all. Talking about your ex. Forgetting your wallet. Spilling hot soup on your date’s lap. (Marcus did that once and we never let him live it down.)
But the easiest way—the instant, no-coming-back-from-it way—is this one: Not treating Jenna Howard like the princess she fucking is.
Absolutely not happening. Not tonight. Not ever. I park outside her townhouse at exactly 6:55 p.m., sit for a second, and breathe.
Calm the fuck down. Don’t stare at her like you’ve been waiting half your life for another shot. Try, justtry,not to look like you’d burn the whole world down if she asked.
I take several deep breaths, willing my heart to stop racing, before walking up to her porch. Then her door opens, and I completely freeze.
She steps out in dark fitted jeans, black ankle boots, and a cashmere sweater that hugs her curves like it’s grateful for the privilege. Her hair is down in loose waves that brush hershoulders, and she’s wearing just enough makeup to enhance her natural beauty in a way that could level a grown man with one glance.
“Hi,” she says softly, locking the door and coming down the front steps.
“Hey, Princess.” I offer her my arm and escort her to my SUV. She reaches for the door, but I brush her wrist aside before she can grab the handle.
Her shoulders relax as she flutters her long lashes at me. “Thanks for picking me up.”
“You never have to thank me for what I’m supposed to do.”
She blushes, and I know we’re already off to a good start.
Jenna climbs in carefully, then gives me this tiny, nervous smile that punches a hole right through my ribcage. Her ample breasts brush against my arm as I fasten her seat belt before closing her door and walking around to my side. As soon as I get behind the wheel, she rests her purse on her lap and blurts, “So, where are we going?”
“Be patient. It’s a surprise.”
