“Hang out at the beach and creepily watch you two.”
The fuck?
“No, you’re not.”
He chuckles. “No, there is a sandwich I want to try down at that one shop. Word on the street is, it tastes like a Thanksgiving dinner. No idea what that means, but I’m here to find out.”
“Have fun with that.”
We say our goodbyes with a solid handshake and then I give the hostess Kitty’s name and ask if Renley has shown up yet.
When she says yes, my stomach twists in knots.
Oh shit, she is here.
The twisting of the stomach is a ridiculous reaction; then again, she’s been so hot and cold with me that I’m nervous she’ll just walk away when I come into view. Let’s hope that’s not the case.
The hostess points to the back table where she’s sitting, far away from the other diners, so I make my way through the restaurant, prepared for the worst but hoping for the best.
When I approach the table, I notice that she’s wearing a dress with skinny shoulder straps, showing off more skin than I know what to do with, temporarily short-circuiting my brain.
I take a moment to gather myself, but it doesn’t help; all it does is give my eyes more time to wander, to take in her slender neck and her unmarked skin.
Christ, what is happening to me?
I tell myself to shake it off, to remember what I’m supposed to be doing here, but all reasoning is washed from my brain, and for the life of me, I can’t remember the plan. All I can think about is that I’m about to have dinner with Renley, and if she gets up and leaves, I’ll be crushed.
Taking a deep breath, I make my way to the front of the table where she’s sipping on a glass of water. When she sets it down and her eyes meet mine, she says, “I knew it was going to be you.”
I gulp. “Really?”
“Yup, this evening had you written all over it.”
“Knowing that, you still showed up?”
“Yes, because I love their short rib and I’m going to make you pay for it, so I plan on enjoying a hearty meal after the work I put in today.”
Why do I love that so much?
“You know, I should be insulted, but I’ll take it.” Then I bend down on one knee and hide a laugh as panic crosses her eyes.
“What are you doing?” She looks over her shoulder, checking to see if anyone is paying attention, but we’re tucked away far enough out of sight that I doubt anyone can see what I’m doing.
“Renley Lynn Gossage?—”
“We said no proposing.”
“Will you do me the honor…” I pull the scissors out of my pocket, causing her brow to furrow in confusion. “Of cutting the tassels off my shoes so they no longer disgust you?”
Her eyes fall to the scissors, then back to my shoes, and the smallest of smiles passes over her lips while her body language morphs from horrified to interested. “It would be my absolute pleasure.”
Glancing around, I say, “She said yes, folks.” I add a fist pump. “She said yes.”
“Stop that.” She playfully swats at my shoulder while chuckling. “Give me your loafers.”
I take a seat on the chair that’s next to hers so we’re sitting side by side, looking out toward the ocean.
I take off one shoe and hand it to her.
