“Who knew Everett Donnelly could be such a gentleman?” I say as he tugs me to my feet and straight into his body until there’s barely an inch between us.
He looks down at me with those hungry eyes, and my stomach flips as the familiar ache I’ve been dealing with recently gets more insistent between my thighs.
“It can be our little secret,” he says before lifting his hand to tuck a lock of hair behind my ear. “Ready to have your mind blown?”
“I’m not having sex with you.” I gasp the second I hear myself. “Shit, I didn’t mean. Well, no. I did. I’m not. Fuck. I’ll just shut up now.”
He chuckles before threading his fingers between mine and leading me around the side of the building.
36
EVERETT
“Wow,” Bea breathes as we step inside the restaurant. But while her eyes might be focused on our surroundings, I can’t take mine from her.
I know she’s feeling a little self-conscious about her body, but she really has no reason to.
She’s stunning.
Her dark hair has been curled and is hanging over her shoulders, one side clipped back with a clip; her makeup is light, showing off her natural beauty and the freckles that litter her nose and cheekbones. And her dress…fuck me, the dress. It wraps around her curves like it’s been painted on. The split…I rub my hand over my mouth as I try to stop myself from imagining what she may or may not be wearing underneath.
“It’s like we got out of your car and stepped right into Spain.”
Ripping my eyes away from her, I finally look around. Yeah, it’s pretty impressive. Still not as captivating as her, though.
“Have you been?” I ask as the host rushes over.
“To Spain?” I nod. “Yeah. A few times when I was growing up. This…this takes me right back. Have you?”
“No. I’d like to, though. I haven’t experienced much of Europe. Hi,” I say, greeting the host. “I’ve got a reservation for Donnelly.”
She nods with a soft smile.
“Perfect—I’ve got you out on the deck. If you’d like to follow me.”
Pressing my hand to the small of Bea’s back, I guide her forward.
Just before we step outside, she glances back at me, her eyes glittering with delight, and I swear my heart skips a beat.
“I’ve got you right here,” the host says.
“It’s perfect. Thank you.”
“Great. Make yourselves comfortable, and your server will be right over.”
After pulling Bea’s chair out, I lower myself opposite her.
“This place is incredible,” she breathes, taking in the deck before her eyes shift out to the ocean.
“I hope the food is as good as I’ve heard,” I muse, continuing to study her instead of the view.
She turns back to me, and our eyes collide. I swear the air crackles between us, just like it did that night. I should be over it—over her—by now. I’ve had her. I should be able to move on. But I can’t. She’s taken up residence in my head in a way no one ever has before.
Birds sing above us, and the sound of waves crashing fills the air. For the first time in what feels like forever, I just breathe.
My shoulders relax and I sink back into the seat.
It’s bizarre. I’m on a date with a woman. I should be freaking out. But there is something about Bea that relaxes me. Her presence is calming. The only other time I feel it is when I first step out onto the ice and glide as if I’m weightless without any demons snapping at my heels.
