I step toward him and rest my hand on his. “Yes, I do.” I remove all traces of doubt in my voice to really drive home how much I’d literally go anywhere with him.
His eyes meet mine, and I swear they’re shimmering, but it could be the street lamps. He cracks a smile and says, “Okay.” He adjusts his jacket once more and plasters on a look of defiance. “It’s coffee. I don’t need a three-piece suit for fucking coffee.”
“Exactly. Plus, you look hot as hell and very classy. Don’t worry so much.”
We walk into the restaurant, and the urge to hold his hand is almost too strong to resist. Torren lights a fire in me with his tough, brooding demeanor, but the glimmers of vulnerability he displays turn me into an absolute puddle on the floor.
The maître d’ greets us like he would anyone else and ushers us to a table. When Torren sits, his eyes survey the room, then quickly look down. “That lady is staring at me.”
I casually glance behind me, pretending like I’m looking at a painting on the wall, and see the woman in question. She’sdroolingat the sight of Torren. Her eyes are practically heart-shaped. “Yeah, because she wants to rub olive oil over your naked body, then lick it off. I’m surprised you’re not already naked with the way she’s undressing you with her eyes.”
“That’s not why.”
I look back and see the woman’s dinner guest, very likely her husband, leaving for the restroom. “I’ll bet you whatever you want that if I walk over and say you’d like her number, she’ll give it to me.”
Torren’s eyes narrow, then his lips curl into a naughty smirk. “She’d never do something to mess up her pampered life.Never.”
I hold out my hand to shake on it. “Let’s make a wager, then. If she does, we’re going out on Friday. If she doesn’t then…”
I stop, allowing him to finish. “If she doesn’t, then you need to get your job back at Maggie’s.”
Torren
It was the first thing that came to my mind, and I’m questioning if it was a good idea.
Felix stares at me in shock, his mouth wide open, then flashes a defiant grin and says, “Okay. It’s a bet.”
He gives me his hand to shake, and my yearning to push this table out of the way and pull him closer is dangerous.
So I let go.
He rises to standing and saunters off to the lady who made bug eyes at me when we entered. I watch, waiting for the moment when she makes a scene of outrage.
Felix crouches beside the woman, introduces himself, then whispers in her ear. The tension within me is high. These ladies love putting on a show, so she might even slap him.
Don’t lose it when she does.
Wait a minute.
Is she?
Son of a bitch!
She discreetly pulls a pen and paper from her handbag and quickly scribbles on it. She and Felix share a nod, then he gets up to leave.
The scene before me is unbelievable; Felix is haughtily walking back, waggling his brows, and the lady—I kid younot—is maneuvering her top down ever so slightly to give me a good peek at her cleavage.
The mister returns, and she assumes an air of detached nobility, but shoots me a quick wink when her husband’s not looking.
Felix takes a seat, looking smug as hell, and asks, “So, where are we going on Friday?”
I shake my head before rolling my eyes. “I feel like you knew that would happen.”
“Of course, I did. That’s why I made the bet, and don’t you dare back out!”
“I won’t. Promise.”
Felix smiles, genuine excitement twinkling in his eyes, and it’s hard to ignore the wave of joy I feel knowing I brought out that smile. It’s crazy sitting this close to him after dying to be near him for so long. I feel awkward and tongue-tied. He’s the only person who has ever gotten me like this.
