I pull out of my parking spot, turning the radio on.
“Feel free to put whatever you want on,” I say.
Cam doesn’t say anything, just stares out the window, his shoulders tense.
I want to press him, but I know I shouldn’t. If he wants to talk, he will. When he doesn’t move to change the station, I take the initiative and fiddle with the settings until I come across something that sounds oddly familiar, though I can’t recall where I know it from, but it’s enough to fill the car with a bit of energy.
I try my best to be upbeat, but the rest of the ride to Luigis is spent with Cam’s proverbial silence, which only makes me more nervous.
Maybe this wasn’t such a good idea…
Just as we pull up to the entrance where the valet is standing, Cam lets out a heavy breath, but I’m already putting the car in park. The valet meets me at my door and I hand him the keys with a polite thank you, and once Cam is out of the car, he eases up just a fraction, sliding his hands in his pockets while he waits for me at the doors.
Under the light, I get a clear look at him. The years have been good to him, no doubt, as he looks every bit far too polished to be standing here. With me.
I swallow harshly as I try not to stare. But fuck, it’s hard—a lot harder than I thought it would be.
I push aside my nerves and unease as I walk up to him, opening the door with a practiced smile.
“After you,” I say, watching as his eyes rove over me, silently judging me. My cheeks threaten to heat because there’s something about his judgmental glare that feels more like an appraisal than a judgment.
Like when you find an old piece of jewelry you wore all the time, and suddenly wonder if its value is actually worth anything substantial outside of the sentimental.
But I suppose judgment is what I deserve, at the very least, after what an ass I was.
He says nothing, but walks in the door as I hold it open for him. Joining him, I match his casual, affluent stride, feeling a fraction better because he’s just… here.
And for the briefest moment, it’s like he never left.
Careful, Austen. Don’t get ahead of yourself.
I meet the host at the podium and give them my name for the reservation.
“Two for Brewer, seven p.m.”
The host looks at me with that same dreamy expression most women in this town do, but I ignore it.
Despite the fact I’m married, I’ve been flirted with, hit on, and propositioned on more than one occasion by the women of this town. Though I’ve never felt any attraction, any inkling whatsoever to flirt back or take anyone up on such propositions, and I’ve never been anything less than polite.
She takes a glance at Cam, her doe-eyed expression turning to one of interest. I don’t miss the way her eyes dip to his hand,probably looking for a ring. She smirks when she doesn’t see one. I wonder if she recognizes him or just thinks he’s hot.Cam shakes his head and scoffs as she leads us to a quiet corner, the table set with wine glasses and candles amid a large window overlooking the scenic river.
It’s quite intimate and warm, and I can only imagine all the dates that take place here. Which should bother me, being as I didn’t specify this was a date, but it’s too late to change such things now.
The hostess angles herself just so, so that her breasts are practically spilling out of her tight top as she hands a menu to Cam, and I can’t help but smirk.
He grabs it with precision, thanking her with a grin that emits more sarcasm than actual politeness.
“Can I get you something to drink?” she asks, twirling her finger in her hair. “Some sparkling water, some wine, some—”
“We’ll take two glasses of Chardonnay, thank you,” I say as Cam rolls his eyes. “Unless, of course, you prefer something else?” I raise an eyebrow at him. He can be as salty as he wants. I live with Savannah. Salt is ninety-nine percent of my diet. A little attitude is not going to deter me from my mission.
Cam relents, sitting up straighter in his seat. He flashes the waitress a gaze I can only describe as smoldering. I’m sure it’s an occupational hazard, butfuck.
“Macallan neat, please. He can have the grape juice.” Cam raises an eyebrow at me as if to challenge me, and I can’t help but smile.
I’ve missed this. I’ve missedhim.
The waitress giggles, telling us she’ll be back with our drinks, and when she’s gone, I’m thankful.
