Poppy emerged from her building as I rounded the hood of the SUV, and the world went still around me, my breath catching hard in my chest. Soft waves of honey-blond hair cascaded past her shoulders, catching the fading sunlight and glowing like polished amber. Her lips curved in a shy smile, and her cheeks tinged with color as our eyes met. The little diamond stud in her nose flashed, drawing my gaze to the slight pout of her lush red lips.
I opened the passenger door for her, savoring the way her eyes widened in surprise, and a smile played at the corner of her lips as she accepted my hand. Her palm slid against mine, soft and delicate, and my fingers tightened automatically, needing just another moment of her warmth. I helped her climb into the seat, my gaze slipping briefly down her body as her dress rode up slightly, revealing smooth thighs that made my pulse spike sharply.
Once inside, she smoothed her dress nervously and glanced up at me, offering a hesitant smile.
“Thanks for picking me up.” Her voice was barely audible over the quiet rumble of the engine. “You didn’t have to do that.”
I held her gaze, feeling the heat build between us as I leaned in closer. “I wanted to.”
Her lips parted gently, and her cheeks flushed brighter. I stepped back reluctantly, closing the door carefully before rounding to the driver’s side. The tension between us was palpable, wrapping around me like a physical thing as I slipped into the SUV and pulled smoothly away from the curb.
The drive to Brimstone Steakhouse was heavy with silence. Not uncomfortable, but thick with anticipation and something heated and unspoken, leaving the air between us crackling. I was painfully aware of her presence—the subtle rise and fall of her chest, the quickening pace of her breathing, and the way her fingers twisted nervously in her lap.
The slightly upscale restaurant a few blocks east of Main Street glowed warmly against the evening sky as I pulled into a spot near the entrance. Warm brick and dark timbers defined the building, while low lighting from inside beckoned, hinting at intimate dinners and private conversations. As we entered, the rich scent of grilled steak and woodsmoke wrapped around us, enhancing the already palpable tension.
The hostess led us to a secluded booth at the back, away from the hum of conversation and gentle clinking of silverware. Poppy slid in gracefully across from me, her eyes sparkling with curiosity and nerves as they flickered over the elegant decor.
“You own this place, don’t you?” she asked quietly, a knowing smile playing on her lips.
I relaxed against the leather seat, allowing a slight smirk. “The club does. Well, they co-own it with our tail gunner, Havoc.”
She laughed, shaking her head. “Of course. Is there anything you guys don’t own around here?”
I arched a brow, my lips curling slightly. “Not much. Does that bother you?”
“No,” she replied quickly, flushing a delightful shade of pink. “I think it’s impressive. It’s just—you’re full of surprises.”
“You have no idea, baby.” My voice came out lower than I intended, thick with meaning, and her blush deepened. That delicious shade of pink made my dick ache and pulse race. One of these times, it was either going to kill me or make me lose control. And the fact that she was so sweet only made my desire for her burn hotter. I couldn’t wait to strip away all that innocence, piece by piece, until I was the only thing she could think about.
She cleared her throat, fumbling briefly with the menu. “So what’s good here?”
“Everything.” I didn’t bother to glance down, too busy studying the way her pulse fluttered at the base of her throat. “But the ribeye is my favorite.”
She nodded, lowering the menu and trying to focus. Her voice came out softer and a little breathless. “Then I’ll have the ribeye too.”
Our server took our orders before leaving us alone in the charged silence once again. Poppy smoothed the napkin across her lap nervously, looking up at me through thick, dark lashes.
“So what exactly is it you do, Ace?” she asked, her curiosity genuine and eyes sparkling warmly. “I mean, it’s finance, right? I’m not sure exactly what that entails.”
Something about hearing her call me by my road name didn’t sit well, but I ignored the feeling.
I leaned back, holding her gaze. “Financial analysis mostly. Investments, mergers, and consulting for some private clients. It’s less exciting than it sounds.”
I was careful to be honest, but vague.
“Sounds interesting to me.” She leaned forward slightly with open enthusiasm. “I mean, numbers are fascinating. I know it’s nerdy, but I really enjoy my job most of the time.”
“It suits you. Your energy, the way you think fast and talk faster.”
Her cheeks turned pink again, and she shook her head. “That’s a polite way of saying I never stop talking, isn’t it?”
I let a slow grin curve my mouth. “Not complaining, Poppy.”
She flushed deeply, glancing down with a soft laugh. “People usually get annoyed by it. I always feel like I’m apologizing for talking too much or rambling. It drives my family crazy. People always say I’m ‘a lot.’”
She used air quotes around the phrase, and I could see the hurt swimming in her eyes despite her efforts to hide it. I loved the fact that she wore her thoughts and emotions on her sleeve, that she was so genuine and open.
But seeing that pain in her lovely hazel orbs made my chest tighten, and a fierce protectiveness flared sharply. It made me want to hunt down every person who’d ever said that to my girl and cut out their fucking tongues. “Maybe people aren’t enough to handle someone like you.”
