Page 74 of Stay Wild Darlin’

We ordered quick—burgers, fries, waters—and once the server stepped away, Dalton leaned back against the booth, his arm resting along the top, body loose and at ease.

“You changed,” he said.

I glanced down at myself, a little confused. “Uh . . . yeah?”

“Leggings and that tank top.” He gave a slow smile, not shy about letting his eyes sweep from my bare shoulders up to my face. “Dangerous combo.”

I rolled my eyes, but my cheeks were warm. “You are unbelievable.”

“Nope,” he said. “I’m actually being very restrained right now.”

I bit my cheek, trying to stay cool.

“You wore that around me on purpose?” he added playfully. “Because if you were aiming for subtle torture . . .”

“It’s leggings, Dalton.”

“Exactly. I don’t stand a chance.”

I took a sip of water to cool off, and he watched me over the rim of his glass.

“I meant it, by the way,” he murmured. “About that tank top.”

“Yeah? You’ve got a thing for elastic and cotton now?”

His eyes dropped before dragging back to mine.

“When you bent down earlier . . . I got a peek.” His voice dropped even lower. “Right there.” He nodded to my chest. “The curve of your breast. The pink.”

My mouth went dry.

“You weren’t wearing a bra.”

Heat exploded across my cheeks so fast it made me dizzy.

“If you leaned down right now . . . would I be treated to the same view?”

My mouth parted, breath caught somewhere between protest and pure arousal. Thank God, the waitress arrived with our food.

She slid the plates onto the table, completely unaware that I was two seconds away from spontaneously combusting.

Dalton leaned back, all innocence now, thanking her with a polite nod.

I stared down at my plate like it might save me.

My cheeks were on fire.

He took a bite of his burger, then swallowed and cleared his throat.

“Hey . . . thank you. For coming with Cora and for the outfit.”

I glanced up from my plate. “You noticed?”

“Course I did,” he said through a lazy grin and a mouthful of fries. “I notice everything you do.”

I picked at my fries and took a sip of my drink, letting the conversation drift for a while as we finished eating. By the time I set my cup down, the nerves had started creeping back in.

I shifted in my seat, pretending to focus on the ice in my drink. “Congrats again, by the way. It was . . . fun. Seeing you ride like that.”