I ring off and look at the time. I have a nail appointment booked in an hour. I better get my ass in the shower.
He was supposedto have picked me up at six. It is now seven, and he hasn't so much as called to let me know he's running late. I am a planner. I do things by the book, and Kace, well . . . This was one hell of a start to our evening.
The doorbell rings just after seven, just when I was about to cut my losses and forget about the date.
I open the door to a bunch of pink roses with red tips on legs. “I’m sorry,” he whispers.
A smile dangles on the corner of my lips. Why did he have to be nice about it? “Don’t do it again.”
He gives me a slow and sexy smile before placing a kiss on my cheeks. The small contact is electric, and I feel the hair on my skin rising, an unfamiliar chill running through me.
He backs away, and our eyes lock. "I won't."
I tell him to give me a second as I put my bunch in a vase with some water. I'll arrange it later. I throw on my leather jacket and step out into the chilly evening. It took me a whole two hours to decide what to wear, and I eventually called Mac, who helped me pick out an azure blue dress, stockings, and ankle-length boots. It’s very bohemian chic and looks fabulous. She has such great taste.
He whistles. “You look incredible.” He wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me closer to him. I blush, and suddenly the night isn’t as chilly as it was a few minutes ago.
"What's this place?"I ask as we exit his Toyota and walk up a cobbled pathway to a restaurant. It's a quaint place; the yellow lanterns lighting up the path give the area a warm feel. The warmth of the lighting carries on inside. There are a few tables at the windows occupied and people chatting and laughing. Kace holds out his hand to me, and I take it as we cross the threshold.
Walking into the space, I cannot resist a jaw drop. It's spectacular. There are beautiful paintings everywhere, covering each wall. There's no specific theme. It's just canvas upon canvas of color and texture.
“This is perfect.”
"And she hasn't even eaten. That's a win, Kace." He fist-pumps the air, and I playfully nudge him.
A waitress leads us to a long table in the middle of the restaurant, and I frown. It's a bit too big for the two of us, but maybe the more intimate tables were booked out.
“Terry will be with you in about half an hour. We’re just waiting for a few more guests. Shall I start you two off with some wine?”
I look over at Kace suspiciously, but his poker face is on.
“Any preference?”
"I'm not really a wine person, but I am happy to try anything you recommend. The last time I had wine, it was at a stiff wine tasting at a country club. Long story." I laugh nervously.
“Could we have a white Muscadel for the lady and a Shiraz for me?”
“By the glass?” the waitress asks.
"Yeah, for now," he smirks, looking back at me. When he regards me, his focus never leaves my face. It's as if he's trying to memorize it all. Like I'll disappear if he doesn't.
“So, do you come here often.?”
"It's my first time. I looked up the place after our conversation, and I knew you'd love it. I hear the food is amazing. Very authentic Italian but delicious."
“I love Italian,” I pipe up.
“I figured. With your pizza obsession.”
“Hey, that was a once off thing.” I scrunch my nose.
“It better be. I wouldn't like to think any other pizza guy could pick you up.”
"Cross my heart." I cross my eyes, and he throws his head back laughing.
The thing about Kace is there are no awkward moments. Whether we are playfully bantering or silent, there's a companionship I have never quite felt before.
Half an hour later,the table is full, and Terry joins us, handing out canvases. I gape at Kace. "This is . . . Wow! I don't actually have the words."
