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“We will.” And if I have my way, when we’re on this date, we’ll do a lot more than talk.
Chapter Six
Tuesday, November 14
* * *
When I pull up in front of Nia’s place, I put my BMW in park and stare. I’ve never been here, and I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t anything like this.
I live in a sleek glass high-rise that’s industrial, efficient, and green. Everything is solar and built with responsible convenience in mind. Nia’s home isn’t typical urban living and isn’t focused on proximity to java while reducing her carbon footprint. Her cottage is full of character and oozes charm.
When I step out of my sedan, I follow a brick walkway that leads to a simple black gate. Beyond, freshly painted gray siding frames a white door rich in detail. Two dark wrought iron sconces flank it and illuminate the little mosaic porch. Tall topiaries stand on either side like sentries, rimmed by evergreens and an occasional splash of tiny white flowers. I’m surprised by how lush and summery her yard looks, despite the fact Thanksgiving is less than two weeks away.
Nothing about this place looks practical. It’s probably a hundred years old—especially the windows. It likely doesn’t even have air conditioning. She parks on the street. Her neighbors are almost on top of her. And I wonder if there’s an ounce of insulation in this structure.
On the other hand, it’s just like her—different, unexpected, wonderful.
The thought makes me smile as I knock, mixed bouquet of flowers in hand.
When Nia swings the door open, I can’t help but stare. She’s dressed in a white sweater that flashes a hint of cleavage, figure-hugging jeans, and black lace-up boots that climb halfway up her sleek thighs.
“Hi.” Since I’m having trouble finding my breath, it’s the most intelligent greeting I can manage.
She grins. “Hi, yourself. Are the flowers for me?”
“Yes.” I manage to stop salivating long enough to hold out the bouquet to her.
“That’s sweet.” She holds them under her nose and sniffs. “But I know you, Evan. This wasn’t your idea. Did a website tell you to bring flowers on a first date?”
I laugh; she knows me too well. “No. I called Harlow, Keeley, and Britta for advice. My sister suggested I keep you horizontal and naked until you agree to whatever I want. According to her, Noah used sex to persuade her to marry him. Keeley was more subtle. She gave me a collection of appropriate songs to play in the car for mood music.”
“Are you planning to?” she asks over her shoulder as she retreats to her kitchen to stick the flowers in water.
The view of her backside is every bit as lust-inducing as the view from the front. I don’t remember ever being fixated on a female’s ass, but I swear Nia’s might be the single sexiest part of a woman I’ve ever noticed.
“Or not?” she asks into my silence as she sets the vase of blooms on her kitchen table.
I clear my throat and find my brain. “You know I thoroughly prepare for meetings, so I figured it couldn’t hurt.”
She smiles. “I do know. Which means Britta suggested the flowers?”
I nod. “She didn’t say what kind. I guessed. Do you like them?”
Asking makes me sound uncertain. I am, but I hate the reminder that, other than Rebecca, I have zero experience dating…while Nia has so much.
“I love them,” she assures, her dark eyes lingering and warm. “Let me grab my purse, and we can go.”
She disappears for a moment, then returns, bag looped on her shoulder. After she shuts off a couple of lights, she shoves the key in the lock and flips a gaze to me over her shoulder. “So what are we doing tonight?”
“Dinner first.” I escort her to the car, hoping like hell she likes what I have planned. “I assume you’re hungry.”
“Starved. While you and Bas and that group of contractors went to lunch, I stayed behind to type up the meeting notes.”
I frown. “You never ate?”
“No time. I had an orange when I got home.”
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I question as I open the passenger door for her.
