I press my chilly hand to my face, hoping it’ll cool me down. He’s got my emotions going all over the place.
“I’m having such a good time,” he says as we share a piece of cheesecake.
“I am too.”
“I don’t want this night to end.”
“Neither do I.”
The crazy part is that I mean it. All of it. I want this man.
“But I don’t do more than a kiss on the first date,” I tell him.
I want so much to go back on that rule I’ve set for myself. It’s especially tempting since Chloe is away.
“I understand,” he says, nodding. He leans in, grinning. “Can I kiss you tonight?”
My heart has been thudding in my chest all night. “Yes,” I say quietly.
“I can’t wait,” he says. “Your mouth has been calling mine since I first saw you.” He grins when my cheeks flush. “Can I see you in the morning? And tomorrow night? Then it’d be our third date.”
I laugh. “How did I know you were going to say something like that?”
He laughs and reaches out and takes my hand, threading our fingers together. “I’m not going to rush you. I do want to take you home with me tonight, but I want to see you tomorrow more. So whatever it takes to make that happen, that’s what I want to do.”
“You’re pretty hard to resist,” I tell him.
He lifts my hand to his lips and kisses my knuckles. “Yeah?”
I nod.
“What if I made you breakfast in the morning? Would you be comfortable with that?” he asks.
“You can cook?” I can’t hide the shock in my voice.
“Not as well as my brother, but yes. Would you prefer my house or yours?”
I look down at our hands. “You know…there’s something I should’ve told you right away. It might change your mind about wanting to get to know me more.”
He rubs his thumb along my palm and I shiver.
“I…have a daughter.”
“Really.” He sounds surprised, and I wait to see his reaction. “That’s awesome. How old is she?”
“Two and a half.”
He holds up his other hand and makes a motion likeCome on. “Picture time.”
I grin and pick up my phone, then open my photos, which are almost exclusively of Chloe. When I hold the phone up to him with one of my favorite pictures of her, I watch him carefully, and he’s completely genuine when he says, “Dahlia! She is something. So beautiful. You did good. You did really good.”
My face flushes with pride. “Thank you. She’s something, all right. She’s brilliant, and I know all parents say that, but she really is.” I laugh, and so does he.
“I believe you,” he says. “And her father? What’s the story there?”
I make a face. “I saw all the red flags, but I ignored them. He was charismatic, and I was flattered. He’s older than me,” I add. “We dated for a few months, and he talked a good game, but not just to me…”
“No,” he says.
