She does get moving, albeit slowly, chewing her lip and glancing back at me. Still unsure. I make a shooing motion with my hand, chuckling to myself, then call Ethan to check in on his progress.
“You don’t believe in giving a man time, do you?” he asks, sounding exasperated.
“You act like we’ve never met,” I retort. “I take it this means there hasn’t been any success with finding her yet.”
“I’ll find her.” I recognize the determination in his voice. He’s taking this personally, like a puzzle determined to make him fail. He’s never been one to back down from a challenge, and this is no exception.
Glancing toward the doorway Aurora just slipped through, I murmur, “Do we have the last known location for her?”
“As far as I can tell, Dominique was living in the area up until the time Aurora was around two years old,” he explains. “After that, it looks like fuckface gave her a shit ton of money and told her to get lost.”
That sounds about right. “Keep me posted,” I urge.
By the time Aurora returns, she’s washed and brushed, wearing jeans and flats along with an oversized cardigan. “I wasn’t exactly sure how to dress,” she points out, spreading her arms and looking down at herself. “Is this good enough?”
It’s perfect. She’s perfect. “You’ll do,” I decide. Her confusion makes it difficult not to laugh. When was the last time I wanted to laugh sincerely? It’s pretty fucking sad that I can’t remember.
“Aren’t you getting changed?” she asks when I get up, making sure I have my wallet tucked into the back pocket of my jeans.
“What, is there something wrong with this?” I ask, cocking an eyebrow.
“No, no, you look great.” She is beyond puzzled, just the same.
“I’m taking you out for a nice day, so I’m dressing a little more casually. And that’s all the information you’re getting out of me in advance,” I add before she can pump me for more. “Let’s get moving. We have a lot to do.”
“I’m in your hands.”
I smirk down at her as we head for the elevator. “Do me a favor? Try not to sound so much like you’re on your way to a funeral when you say that.”
Inside, I take the first step toward building real partnership. I punch in the code without covering the keypad, so she can see. When I look away, her eyes dart to the floor. “It’s all right. I wanted you to see,” I explain. “I’m not trying to keep it from you anymore.”
“Really?” She says it with so much wonder, so much disbelief.
“Really. I meant it when I said I want us to be a team. That means being open with you.” It is not something that comes naturally to me, that much is for damn sure. I might be cool and calm on the surface, but internally, I’m anything but. I have to learn to trust. She’s worth it.
The car is waiting in the garage and soon we’re on our way. I can tell it’s driving her nuts, having no idea where I’m taking her. “No, I’m not telling you,” I murmur when she turns to me with a question written all over her face.
There are more questions when we pull up in front of a diner miles away from the penthouse. “What are we doing here?”
“This is what’s called a diner,” I explain. “Sometimes, people go to them to eat food.”
“Ha ha,” she sighs, rolling her eyes.
“Come on. I want to see if they’re as good as I remember.” It’s almost too much, the memories that hit me from all sides when I climb out of the car and take Aurora’s hand before leading her up to the chrome-trimmed front door.
“You’ve been here before?” She groans softly when we step inside and the aroma of bacon and coffee hits us. “Oh, it smells incredible in here.”
It looks the same. I can’t believe it, but it’s true. We take a seat in a booth by the window, where menus wait in a stand. I hand one to her, still looking around.
“You’re quite a cheap date,” she jokes after looking through the choices. “I could go for a stack of pancakes.”
“Be careful what you wish for,” I warn. “If memory serves, they’re big enough to practically hang off the edge of the plate.”
“Was this someplace you used to come to a lot?”
The words get stuck in my throat, but I force my way through the hesitation. “The last time I was here, it was with my family. I used to come here for breakfast on Sunday mornings.”
She lets out a breath. Her gaze softens, her mouth opens. “Oh. Oh, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have joked like I did.”
