by Susan Ward
That seems to mollify him somewhat and he slouches against the headboard of his bed. “Honesty is the door you walk through if you want to rebuild your life, EJ.”
“Fuck, that’s deep. You do listen at the meetings, don’t you? And here I thought you just went for the free coffee and grub.”
He points. “Don’t forget your fucking surly company.”
“Or getting to listen to the chick with the sex addition.”
I’m grinning because he’s laughing, and it’s important to me to get things good between us again.
I pat his ankle. “We cool?”
“We’re good, brother.”
I stand up. “Then I’ve got to head out.”
He quirks a brow at me. “The brunette with the legs that go forever?”
“Yeah, we’re having dinner tonight.”
“Seeing her twice in one day. Seems like you’re determined to bend more than the honesty rule. You’ve still got seven days on the calendar to cross off before you’re allowed to have a relationship.”
Fuck, I didn’t need to be reminded of that.
OK, maybe I did.
He’s a good friend; the best.
At the door, I give him the finger anyway.
TWO HOURS LATER, I’m heading out of my suite right on time, with everything I planned for tonight arranged thanks to a little help from family and friends.
Fresh clothes: check, thanks to the concierge.
Special, secluded, romantic dinner waiting for Willow and me: check, thanks to Simone and the myriad of friends he has in Seattle.
My own ride to pick her up in that isn’t too flashy: check, thanks to Ethan now being a dad and all about safety.
Tossing the keys in my hand, I wait for the elevator and try to shut down my runaway thoughts and excitement. With what I’ve got planned it’s going to be hard enough keeping my hands off Willow like I have to without fantasizing about how epic it would be to make love to her there.
Chapter Thirteen
Willow
JADE DROPS ME OFF at the bar shortly before five. The minutes drag and drag. Worse, I’m grossly uncomfortable in my highly fashionable date attire my sister insisted I wear. Even though my clothes are more form-fitting and provocative than is wise to wear at Mel’s, I more suspect my discomfort’s due to Ivy’s inquisitive stare.
Since I rushed through the door at the start of the before-dinner rush, Ivy’s had that crinkle in her brow that warns me she’s wondering what’s up and is annoyed with me that I haven’t spilled the details to her yet.
I don’t dwell on Ivy’s constant scrutiny, because what’s up with Willow is a question I’m asking myself as I hurry around the bar robotically serving drink orders.
Nothing has gone as I expected it to today, least of all my behavior. One minute I’m telling myself not to encourage EJ and the next I’m in his arms, kissing him, and saying yes to dinner. Then allowing Jade to pull me along with her on a shopping spree and a mini makeover.
It makes no sense.
It’s as if rational Willow has deserted me.
In my mind’s eye, I visualize how EJ looked as he stared down at me after we kissed. It was a strange thing, oddly moving. But his earnest, hopeful expression was my undoing. By the time we finished breakfast, I didn’t want him to go, which is odd. Why would I want him so much when everything about him warns that I shouldn’t?
I haven’t been this way since Eric James, and it’s disheartening to learn that I can turn on a dime and be that girl again. I thought for sure marriage to Dean had eradicated her forever.
But, no, she’s back. Willow the risk taker; the one whose emotions run away with her, the one who thinks with her heart and not her head, the hopeful romantic who can only see the man and not the circumstance.
Ugh, EJ’s turned me into her. I can no longer deny that he does. That should be an impossible-to-ignore warning not to dare a second date with him.
I feel my pulse crashing in my veins from the thought of him. These feelings make no sense. But there’s something about him that scrambles my internal mechanisms. It’s more than how handsome he is, or that he can be quite possibly the most charming man I’ve ever known.
It’s no one thing.
It’s a feeling.
So confusing.
Like EJ is.
Undefinable.
Unexpected.
Endearing and commanding simultaneously.
Frightening and wonderful in the same breath.
Finally, it’s seven, and I head to my office to collect my jacket and purse, trying to quell my nerves as I wait for him.
“Are you leaving early tonight? Do you need me to close?”
I whirl to find Ivy standing in the office doorway.
“Yes. No. Not really. I’ll be here to close.”
She raises an eyebrow, her interest clearly piqued. “Do you have a date? Is that why you came back from meeting Jade at the salon all dressed up for the evening?”
She sounds happy.
I flush. “No, I’m meeting a friend. We’re having dinner together. I won’t be late.”
A friend?
Who am I trying to fool here? Ivy’s smirking. Apparently not her.
Her lower lip pushes out. “That’s disappointing.”
“What?” I frown.
“To get all dolled up like that and expect it to end early with your friend. That’s more a look that says you want it to go until morning.”
I shrug, not saying anything, and glare at her retreating back but let her go without further explanations. Getting into this with her now is not a good idea.
I shake my head. I have an evening with EJ to get through first and I’m not even close to knowing how I’m going to do this.
I hurry toward the wall mirror to make one last touch-up to my makeup. I take a long hard look at my face. I look tense and nervous. I apply a tad more mascara and eyeliner to Jade’s handiwork at the boutique. Tidying my hair so it hangs in a soft cloud of curls over one shoulder, I take a deep breath.
I give myself a fast final once-over. No, this is wrong. The clothes are expensive, probably too uptown for whatever EJ’s got planned. My appearance also sends out the wrong message; it’s a visual encouragement for him to pursue me. Totally wrong. But it’s too late to change now.
Nervously, I make my way through the bar with a smile, avoiding eye contact with anyone as I take up a place near the door where I can watch for EJ through the window. It’s better to move to the street to meet him instead of letting him come in.
I don’t see him, and I check my watch.
He’s late.
It’s ten after seven.
Maybe he’s not coming.
It’s for the best—why is my stomach jumping?
I glance over my shoulder to find Ivy at the bar talking to night-shift bartender Griff. They’re both staring at me, making it obvious they’re talking about me, and my face colors profusely.
I turn away and there he is, hurrying down the street toward the door, smiling broadly. I’m out of the bar before it’s opened and barrel into him.
“Whoa, where’s the fire?” EJ teases, steadying me with his hands.
I look up to find his potent blue eyes gleaming at me. I smile, embarrassed. “Sorry. We’re having a busy night and I thought it better to wait for you outside rather than…” I clamp my mouth shut. I’m rambling, and dang it, why does he have to stare at me that way?
“Are you ready to go?” he asks smoothly.
My mouth dries, and I nod.
He gestures with an arm in the direction he came from. “I hope you’re hungry,” he remarks conversationally.
“Starving,” I admit and then inwardly groan. I sound discomposed, unlike me, and there he stands watching my flustering—wearing a charcoal suit, no tie, pale blue shirt open at the collar—with glowing eyes.
He looks glorious.
Why have we stopped walking?
“Where are we going?” My voice is breathy and brisk.
“I’ve booked us a table at the waterfront.”
That’s all the way across town.
He doesn’t have a car. Are we waiting for an Uber? Is that why he’s stopped walking and we’re not even beyond view of the bar’s windows?
My brows crinkle. “Do you want me to drive or are we waiting for an Uber?”
“Neither. I’m feeling a little awkward about something.” He closes his eyes for a split second and an adorable uncertain expression sweeps across his handsome face. “Have you ever imagined doing something, but when you get to the point of doing it you’re suddenly overwhelmed with worry it won’t play out in real life as you expect?”
And for the first time since this morning, like that, my nervousness is gone, and I want to laugh. It’s like he’s reached into my head and latched onto my thoughts. I try hard to stifle the giggle that threatens and maintain a straight face.
“All the time,” I assure him.
His lids lift, and he locks me in his stare, but instead of discomposing me it puts me even more at ease.
“Try to remember this seemed like a good idea at the time it came to me.” His voice is soft and richly textured by emotion.
I swallow. Now I’m a bundle of anticipation. “No promises, but I’ll try.”
He laughs, reaching into his pocket for something. Oh, it’s a key fob. There’s no time to wonder where EJ came by a car. I hear a click and the flash of headlights directs my gaze to the black Cadillac XT5 parked in the loading zone right next to us.
He opens the passenger door and leans in. “If you don’t want to wear it, I’ll understand.” His voice floats out to me from the vehicle.
Wear it?
He eases out and turns toward me.
He’s holding a small white box with a fancy, elaborately tied violet ribbon around it. Too big for jewelry, thankfully, and too small for clothing.
“My sister-in-law thought I should bring you flowers, but I liked this better.”
My racing thoughts brush past the sister-in-law comment and latch onto this?
He’s brought me a present.
It hits me hard, the sweetness and unexpectedness.
I lift a brow. “Are you going to let me see what it is?”
He grins. “I’m sorry. I’m rusty at this. Which I doubt I have to tell you—you’ll know once you see what this is.”
He holds the box out to me and his fingers brush my palm as he sets it in my hands. All my muscles clench tightly deliciously deep inside me from the contact.
“It’s nothing big,” he whispers.
I gaze up at him. Nothing big? It is to me. I’ve never had a man bring me a gift when he’s picked me up for an evening. A first…
“I don’t know what to say,” I murmur.
“Why don’t you open it?”
My hands shake as I carefully undo the ribbon.
I lift the lid.
Oh my.
“It’s beautiful.” On a bed of shredded violet tissue is a violet rose wrist corsage. “I’ve never had a man bring me a corsage before.”
“I’m glad you like it.”
Something in his voice drags my gaze to him. He’s shifting on his feet, still feeling awkward about something. I’m not sure why. I’m touched beyond words by this.
“I’ve never brought a girl flowers before,” I hear him say through the loud drumming of my heart in my ears. “I used to hang with the tough crowd in school. The ones that looked down on everything. I didn’t go to my prom, and it occurred to me today that somehow I’ve never brought a woman flowers before. But I wanted to do that for you tonight, so I went with my gut and decided on this. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”
My inner self stirs from her stupor. “Are you kidding? It’s the best surprise a man’s ever given me. Will you hold the box while I put it on?”
Instead, he lifts the flowers from the tissue, takes the box, and slowly moves the corsage onto my left wrist. My eyes are fixed on it and how his tanned fingers look surrounding my arm.
Desire pools dark and deep in my center. I want him to kiss me. Here, now, where everyone in the bar can see.
Abruptly he steps back, breaking the spell, and holds the car door for me. Climbing in, I peek at him from under my lashes as he waits for me to settle.
He closes the door.
I let out the breath I’m holding.
Why didn’t he kiss me?
Chapter Fourteen
Willow
WE’RE HEADING TOWARD the setting sun and the sky is awash with shades of coral and aquamarine. The air is clear, crisp, and the city lights are bright even in the minutes before darkness. I can’t figure out where he’s taking me. We’re bypassing the trendy restaurants on the waterfront and I’m not sure where we’re heading.
I turn away from the window and study EJ. He’s got that guy happy hoping she’ll like this look on his face. From his expression I should be on alert for something unexpected again, or at least a touch worried over his secretiveness. I’m not and I’m not sure why.
We’re still in getting-to-know-each-other territory, not whisk-me-away-without-explanation status yet.
I know hardly anything about him. I stare down at my knitted fingers and the dainty arrangement of roses on my wrist. I don’t know why I’m not feeling some caution over him given that I don’t know him that well.
I tally in my head what I do know about EJ. He’s gorgeous. Talented. Charming. Thoughtful. A recovering addict. Divorced. He has a daughter. Beyond that nothing. He certainly hasn’t been an info dump about himself since we climbed into the car.
In fact, we’ve hardly talked at all since leaving Capitol Hill. It should be awkward. Why isn’t it? Our silence is comfortable, a pleasant kind of thing. I feel like I’ve known him for a lifetime.
Stupid, Willow. You don’t know him at all. Not really.
His eyes shift from the road to me. “I’m sorry that this is taking so long. I’m rusty at planning for traffic, too, it seems.”
I laugh. “Don’t be sorry. I’m enjoying the drive, though I admit I can’t figure out where you’re taking me. I’m assuming we have a reservation somewhere. I hope we don’t lose our table.”
He grins his boyish grin. “You don’t have to worry we’ll lose our table.”
I stare at him in surprise. What does that mean? Yes, he’s up to something again. He looked exactly like this before he took the box from the car. And how is it that he can say stuff like that and have it be the most romantic thing ever?
“Very sure of yourself, aren’t you?”
“No, hopeful. The corsage working out well gives me hope what I’ve planned will as well.”
I crinkle my nose. “The corsage was a good gesture. It balanced out being picked up in a crossover with an infant car seat strapped in back. Even as quickly as you explained that this car belongs to your sister-in-law and that she’s up here for a few days visiting didn’t completely squash its effect.”
“I can see how that’d be a bit of a mood kill for a second date. I’m surprised you didn’t bow out after that.”
“No way. It’s been interesting. Prom corsage, baby carrier, preceding a very long drive that I think means you haven’t a clue where you’re taking me.”
“Good thing for you I think fast on the fly.”
No kidding.
I tilt my head. “You’re a tease not to tell me where we’re going.”
“I know. But I think you like it, not knowing where you’re going.”
He smiles, and I can’t help my smile from answering him, even if my cheeks are aflame from how he’s gazing at me.
I shake my head, looking away.
The sky above the scenic drive along the bay is fading into blue twilight. We’re beyond the restaurant district. I can’t imagine w
hat he has planned.
“There is food where we’re going, right?”
He laughs. “Of course. Dinner wouldn’t be dinner without it.”
I face him, rolling my eyes. “You’re not giving me even a hint of where we’re going?”
“No hints. You don’t need one. We’re here.”
He turns into a small lot for an exclusive yacht club I’ve only heard about and never been to. After rolling down his window, he takes a key card from his breast pocket and waves it across the security panel at the entry.
My brows jet up. “We’re eating here?”
He chuckles. “Don’t sound so skeptical.”
The docks are surrounded by a locked security fence and there’s only a small structure above the boat slips. No shops. Not even a burger stand.
“Not skeptical. Confused,” I point out as he parks.
EJ unbuckles and angles toward me. His gaze strays to my lips. I wonder if he’s rethinking that moment outside the car, if he felt it as strongly as I did and is going to kiss me. “I wouldn’t bring you all this way and not feed you.”
Feed me?
My stomach flips over.
He doesn’t mean that the way it sounds.
Why doesn’t my body believe that?
“I hope you like boats.”
Boats?
He hops out of the driver’s seat before I can ask him to explain. I watch him go around the car to my door.
By the time he’s standing by my seat, holding out his hand, my anxiety has returned in full force. It’s very quiet and very private here. It doesn’t feel like there’s anyone else for miles around us.
Maybe I should have asked questions before we left Mel’s. The thought comes to me that it might be wise to slyly get my phone and send GPS coordinates to Ivy, the way she does to me with Bumble hookups. Hookup? Is that the direction EJ intends to go tonight and why he brought me some place like this?
I flush. “I take it there’s someplace to eat here?”
He leans against the open door and gazes at me, his eyes bright and expression guarded, giving nothing away. “Best Italian food in Seattle. Have you eaten at Il Fornaio?”
“No. In fact, I’ve never heard of it.” I shift my gaze to search through the windshield. “Probably because it’s very well hidden.”
