His gaze held hers steadily.
“Me.”
The audacity of this man truly deserved scientific study.
She reached for her water glass. “Confidence looks ridiculous on you.”
“That’s not an answer.”
Johanna took a slow sip before lowering the glass carefully. “Yes.”
Blaze’s eyebrows lifted slightly.
She shrugged one shoulder. “You wanted honesty.”
Satisfaction warmed his expression in a way that caught her off guard, as though her honesty genuinely mattered to him.
“And why are you nervous?” he asked quietly.
Because my body still remembers you before my heart can intervene.
Johanna cleared her throat lightly. “This feels weird.”
Blaze shook his head once. “No,” he said softly. “It feels good.”
The sincerity in his voice affected her worse than flirting would have.
Johanna looked back down at the menu even though she’d stopped reading it several minutes ago.
“You know,” Blaze continued, “you still get that little line right here when you’re trying not to smile.”
Johanna frowned automatically.
Blaze pointed toward the corner of his own mouth. “Right there.”
She immediately smoothed her expression.
A low laugh escaped him. “There it is again.”
“You’re irritating,” she scolded.
A slow grin spread across his face. “And you’re beautiful when you’re annoyed.”
The compliment lacked performance or polish. Blaze said it with quiet certainty, like he was simply acknowledging something true. The words settled over her with the same natural rhythm as the tide rolling beyond the windows.
Before Johanna could respond, the waiter returned carrying their drinks.
Thank God for excellent timing.
She reached immediately for her wine and took a generous sip while Blaze lifted his bourbon glass with unhurried ease. Hisgaze stayed fixed on her over the rim, steady enough to send warmth drifting beneath her skin.
He wasn’t looking at her arrogantly or with the aggressive confidence she’d learned to avoid in other men. Blaze watched her like he genuinely enjoyed her presence, and somehow that felt far more intimate. Which would have been easier to resist if she'd forgotten how much he used to look at her that way.
Outside, waves crashed steadily beneath moonlight while candle flames danced softly between them.
For several moments neither spoke. Surprisingly, the silence didn’t feel uncomfortable. History lived there instead.
Blaze rested one forearm against the table. “How’s your mother?”
