“Of course,” is his immediate reply.
“Here, try this.” Austin has soaked his napkin in water. “Get the worst of it out, at least.”
I take the napkin gratefully and pull the dress down and out to try to wipe off as much of the mess as possible. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice Austin stiffen, and when I glance up, I realize he’s staring at my chest. There’s a split second when I think it’s because I’m displaying some cleavage.
But then I remember.
I quickly yank the neckline back up, but the damage is done. When I finish wiping off as much as I can and set the napkin down, I look up to see Austin examining my face with a question in his eyes. He doesn’t seem repulsed, but he does look ... concerned. A crease has formed between his brows.
I sigh. “I had a heart transplant when I was eighteen,” I say without preamble. “I’m guessing Talia didn’t tell you?”
“No, she didn’t.” His voice lowers. “Are you ... are you okay?”
“I’m fine now. As good as new.” I’m acutely aware of Hunter’s burning gaze from across the table. The heat of it singes the side of my face and neck, as if his focus is a palpable thing.
“Really? So that’s it? You got a new heart, and you’re good to go?”
“Well ... it’s not quitethatsimple. There are, uh, risks. Potential complications that could come up at any time. I have to get testing done every year and ... and—”
“You don’t owe him any answers, Liv. You just met the guy.” Hunter’s sudden interjection silences me—as does the first time I’ve ever heard him use a nickname. My mouth opens and closes once as I glance between the two men.
“Seriously? You wanna go down this road?” Austin levels Hunter with a cool glare.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Hunter returns with every bit as much ice.
Every pulse of my heart is a drumbeat, pounding out a cadence of increasing anxiety that turns my hands clammy. I’m desperate to make this ... whatever it is stop. But I have no idea how.
“I think you do.” Austin drums his fingers on the table, the picture of nonchalance. But tension hovers around himlike the intake of breath after a flash of lightning, that moment of waiting, wondering when the thunder will crash all around us.
“Oh, I see our waiter. Should we get a to-go box for the brownie?” Lou tries to redirect them, but the men are in a standoff. I don’t think either of them even heard her.
“I’m just pointing out how inappropriate it is to ask such a personal question when you barely met her—and I’m reminding her that she doesn’t have to answer it.” Hunter leans back against the booth, folding his arms across his chest.
Lou literally waves our waiter over, her cheeks tinged pink.
“It’s fine, Hunter. I get asked all the time. It’s no big deal.”
“Itisa big deal. It’s not like he’s asking if you liked the brownie or the bread pudding better or whether or not you work out. He’s asking if you’re going to live or die!”
“I said it’sfine.” I slam my hands down on the table, shocking all of us. I don’t know if Hunter thinks he’s trying to protect me or something, but I’m humiliated and exhausted, and all I want to do is go home and climb into bed.
And then pray that this disastrous date doesn’t lead to Talia losing her job.
Hunter’s eyes lock on to mine and hold. The intensity of his gaze makes my heart stutter, a deep ache forming in my belly as his eyes hold me captive.
“All set here?” Mark’s voice has never been more welcome. Hunter looks away as Austin hands Mark the bill with his card. We all sit in stony silence as the server runs it and hands Austin the portable card reader so he can fill out a tip.
It shows how truly terrible the night has gone that neither Lou nor I ask for a box for the uneaten desserts. We get up the moment Mark leaves and head for the door. Austin’sfingertips graze my lower back, guiding me out of the restaurant ahead of Hunter and Lou.
“I’m sorry if I was out of line,” he says, leaning forward to speak softly into my ear. “I didn’t intend to make you uncomfortable.”
I shake my head. “Hewas out of line. Those aren’t easy questions to answer, but he had no right to get in our business like that. I’m really sorry.” I choose to ignore the fact that Hunter is behind us. Hopefully he and Lou are keeping their distance.
Austin chuckles. “Oh, I know whathisproblem is. But I don’t care about him. I want to make sure I didn’t upsetyou.”
His words spark an agitating skirmish of emotions within me—confusion, curiosity, even embarrassment. I smother the curiosity and say, flustered, “I’m okay. But maybe let’s drop it for tonight. That might be a second- or third-date conversation.”
Austin’s hand slides across my back to my waist so his arm wraps around me. The alluring spice of his cologne envelopes me. “Will there be a second or third date?”
