“Literally any pasta is amazing here, but so is the salmon.” My dinner companion breaks the silence, and I close my menu. Fish sounds great.
“Salmon it is, then. What are you having?”
“Steak frites. It’s what I always get.” She takes a sip of her water, eyes not leaving mine over the rim of her glass. “I only know what the other dishes taste like because whenever I come here with my best friend, she tries something new and I always have a bite. I, on the other hand, found what I like, so now it’s all I get.”
“Why mess with something good, right?” I ask
“Exactly.” She lifts a hand before smacking it down on her lap. “You get it.”
When Jace comes back with our drinks, she takes a long pull of hers, humming as she licks her lips. It is entirely innocent yet indecent.
She nods to my untouched glass, and I take a sip from the rim, nearly spitting out the small amount of Clamato, vodka, and hell’s hottest peppers when I cough ungracefully into my forearm.
My eyes begin to water, and any chance I might have had with the beautiful woman across from me evaporates into the atmosphere.
When my vision clears, I find her narrow-eyed, with a smirk tugging at her pretty pink lips.
“You don’t like spicy things, eh?” She giggles, and I wonder if I can remain hopeful that our time won’t be cut short due to how incredibly uncool I seem to be.
“I have no fucking clue why I ordered the same drink as you. I can hardly handle barbecue sauce if it has even a hint of spice in it.” I let the truth come out because it’s too late to pretend this was a fluke. There’s no way I can have another sip of this.
“Here.” She motions to my glass, and I push it across the table so she can reach it. And that’s when all the air leaves my lungs, because Elizabeth runs her tongue along the rim, licking the seasoned salt there.
“The real spicy stuff is on the rim. It’s their signature on this drink, since they make the salt in-house. You should be able to drink it now.” She hands me back my glass, and our fingers brush, her smile widening a fraction.
I spin the glass until the spot she just had her tongue on faces me and take another sip. I don’t nearly die this time, which I consider a win. The real prize, however, is the delight on Elizabeth’s face when I say, “Yep. That ismuchbetter. Thank you.”
Our server comes back to take our orders before she can respond to my cheeky, loaded statement. Once he’s gone again, she sits back in her chair, eyes assessing the guy whospontaneously got a dinner date with the hottest woman in this city. I’m glad I get to be that guy.
“So,” she starts, “how did you know I was struggling back there?” Her long, lean arm reaches for her drink while she waits for my answer.
I shrug, willing my mouth to cooperate, rather than admit I had been watching her closely. “Your body language said it all. You seemed disinterested, looking around the place, leaning away from the person next to you. I’m pretty sure at one point, you closed your eyes long enough that it could be considered a nap.”
Well, shit. So much for not giving away that I was staring.
Her response is a hearty laugh. “You saw that, eh? Damn. I know I wasn’t being subtle, but she couldn’t take a hint. Anyway, thank you for noticing and getting me out of there.”
I nod in response, ready to ask more about her life, what she does, all the typical first date, get-to-know-you stuff, but she beats me to it. “Were you going to eat alone before you swooped in to save the night?”
“Sure was. SoIshould be thankingyou.”
“Well, Peter, don’t thank me yet. You should know I was on a mission to get laid tonight. More specifically, I was planning to sleep with a woman, but I’m open to changing that plan for the right man.” Her shoulders lift, causing her straight blonde hair to bounce on her shoulders, and all I can do is grin at this mystical creature in front of me.
“You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” I sense this is an understatement of monumental proportions.
“Oh, you have no idea.” Her knowing grin matches mine, and we stare at each other, all wide smiles for several seconds before she licks her bottom lip. “Where are you staying, Pete?”
Pete. I’ve never loved being called that unless it was by Leo, who is practically my brother, or my parents.
“Right upstairs. What about you, Lizzie?” I taunt her with the nickname, and she scrunches her nose adorably.
“Same. How long are you in town for?” She wastes no time getting to the point.
“Not sure yet. I’m booked here until Monday, though.” I don’t bother lying. I bought a one-way ticket, not knowing if I’d last twenty-four hours or twenty-four days away from my desk and the life that’s become simultaneously too much and not enough for me over the past couple of months. Or maybe it’s been longer than that and I haven’t noticed.
I don’t dwell on the momentary doom settling in the pit of my stomach, however, because Elizabeth’s eyes sparkle as they roam over every inch of my body she can see, pausing on my left hand where she’ll find no trace of a ring. “Well then,” she starts with sass, “the night just got a little more interesting, didn’t it?”
CHAPTER 3
