by T Gephart
He was gorgeous.
A sharp jaw that looked to be freshly shaved, his short brown hair military neat, and lips so inviting I couldn’t stop staring.
The chair scraped against the floor, his body coming to full height as he stood, and I had to take a minute to appreciate what all those photos had failed to capture.
Gorgeous had been inaccurate.
Sexy as hell was closer.
Breathtaking even more correct.
“Mack?” I stupidly asked, ignoring the fact I’d been led there and I knew it was him. I guess part of me was still grappling with disbelief, and more to the point, wondering what a man like him was doing still single. And why the hell he’d agreed to meet me.
“Hayden.” He nodded, holding out his hand politely before turning to the hostess who still hadn’t left my side. “Thanks Vera, I’ve got it from here.”
Vera?
Her smile indicated they’d been more familiar than Mack just knowing her name.
Great.
Trust me to pick the one place in the whole of Manhattan that employed one of his ex-girlfriends. Although a man like that probably had a few, so it was bound to happen sooner or later.
“Hi.” I accepted his handshake, delving back into that manufactured confidence I’d been rocking earlier and smiled. “I hope you haven’t been waiting long.”
Vera tipped her head to Mack, eyes glancing down at our clasped hands before her grin edged wider. “Enjoy your dinner. Your waiter will be here shortly.” And then thankfully left before making it more awkward.
“Friendly staff.” My palm heated, the touch of his skin making me feel warm all over. “Hopefully that’s a good sign.”
The contact between us broke, his hand sliding away as he moved closer. “I should have probably told you before.” Oh-uh here we go. “But this place is right near my stationhouse, and we come here a lot.”
Well that was comforting, hopefully meaning he’d only traded orders with Vera instead of bodily fluids. Not that it was any of my business, I just preferred to eat dinner without worrying about a jealous ex spitting in my fettucine.
“That’s great,” I lied. “Obviously the food is decent or you wouldn’t keep coming back.”
A waft of his cologne spiced the air between us, his hungry eyes simmering. “The food is decent.”
With the heat of the restaurant and my overactive hormones making me feel too warm, I shucked my coat and hung it over the back of the chair. Mack took a step like he was going to pull it out for me but stopped when I shook my head and sat down before there was a discussion. Chivalry was fine except that wasn’t why I was there, and I was already doubting we were going to make it to the naked stage, so it was probably best we got the show on the road.
“So Hayden, that’s a pretty name.” He retook his seat, smiling as his eyes did a subtle sweep of the hot mess in front of him.
“Thanks.” I picked up the menu, trying to read the words while simultaneously convincing myself I had a shot. He’d seen my photos, right? Surely he hadn’t been expecting a Victoria’s Secret model and got me by mistake.
“How was work?”
His question pulled me from my conflicting thoughts, wondering if I should just outright ask if he’d matched me by accident. “I’m sorry?”
“Work, you said in your message you were working until seven,” he repeated, not seeming to be annoyed by my apparent lack of attention.
I waved my hand, not having anything positive to say about how I earned a paycheck. “Oh, it was fine. Retail. You know, any day Karen doesn’t want to talk to my manager, or no one is murdered in the dogfood aisle, it’s a success.”
He eased back into his chair, completely ignoring his menu while he looked at me. “Sounds interesting. You have many murders in the dogfood aisle?”
“Not as many as I would like.” I huffed out a laugh, hoping to God he knew it was a joke and I wasn’t harboring dark murderous thoughts. That sure as hell wouldn’t help my cause to get laid. “So how was your day?” I attempted small talk, having decided on some kind of pasta.
“Slept, ate, did laundry. Typical day off,” he offered. “And of course, messaged you.”
Ah yes.
Of course.
I couldn’t help but wonder how many other messages he’d sent. If I was the first—maybe not, he’d had hours he could’ve filled—woman of many or if he would work through them one at a time. He’d been very attentive, not glancing down at his menu or his phone since we’d sat down, and paying me enough interest that I believed I was his sole focus.
“You guys ready to order?” A pretty waitress placed two water-filled plastic tumblers down on our table. “I can give you the specials if you want? Oh hey, Mack!” Her attention turned to my date. “Aren’t you sick of this place on your days off? Looking pretty fine.” She winked before turning to me. “You and your friend need more time?”
She hadn’t called me his date. Probably assuming a man as good looking as him would have someone suitably gorgeous on his arm. But while my insecurities weren’t going to be disappearing anytime soon, I wasn’t going to let some pretty, young nobody make me feel less than. I got enough of that at work. So I wasn’t enduring it at dinner, especially when I wasn’t getting paid.
“Actually, we’re on a date.” My lips spread into a grin. “So maybe you could suggest a nice red?”
“Oh?” She looked honestly surprised before shooting her eyes back to Mack. “A date? Really? Wow, okay. Ummm. Maybe the pinot?” She was either not sure about her wine selection or still reeling from the shock of Mack being on a date with me.
“Hmm.” I tapped my finger on my chin, pretending to consider it. “I think I’ll go with a glass of the merlot instead. And the ricotta and spinach cannelloni, thank you.”
“Merlot sounds great.” Mack grinned, handing his menu back to our waitress. “And I’ll take the lasagna, thanks, Brooke.”
She collected our menus, not bothering to write down our order before scurrying off. No doubt to confer with Vera where they’d share collected information. Next time I went out with a guy, I was asking a lot more questions before we settled on a venue. Or just flat out asked to meet in a hotel room.
Then.
Silence.
He didn’t talk, ignoring both Brooke’s hasty departure and the fact he was staring. My hands knotted in my lap, trying to find some of that bravery I’d had earlier. While I knew I was far from a beauty queen, I’d made more of an effort than I usually did. My clothes were new and well fitted, I’d worn makeup, done my hair—nothing that screamed celibate divorcée.
I cleared my throat reaching for the tumbler of water and taking a drink. His eyes hadn’t left my face or my body for more than a few seconds since I’d walked in. And while initially I’d assumed he’d been attentive, I was beginning to second guess.
“Not what you’re used to?” I tipped my head to the side, not willing to sit in the silent scrutiny any longer. “If you want, we can just get the food to go and then go our separate ways.” I angled for my purse, ready to cover my half of the check.
He reached across, grabbing my arm. “No. No, you’re not what I’m used to, and no, I don’t want to get the food to go.”
My brow arched, wondering what was going on in that big beautiful head of his. “So, if I’m not your usual type, what are we doing here? I already told you I’m not interested in mind games, but what I should have said is I’m not interested in any games, period.”
“No games, Hayden.” His arm had yet to move. “And we’re here because I wanted to have dinner with you. Still do. Thought that’s what you wanted too. But if that’s changed I’m not going to hold you against your will.”
Well that was a relief! Because honestly apart from the whole bigger/stronger vibe he had going on, I was positive Vera and Brooke would spring into action like a pair of trained ninjas and stop me from leaving.
“I don’t know if I want to stay,” I answered ho
nestly. I was fairly sure I wasn’t getting close to getting an orgasm—half-way decent or not. And to be honest, having dinner while people he knew watched us was a little more than I’d bargained for.
“Is it me or the place?” He asked so honestly, I almost laughed. Like there was a universe where a woman wouldn’t want to have dinner with him. Certainly not the one we were in.
“Hayden, is it me? Have I done something that makes you want to leave?” He leaned forward, his warm brown eyes turning serious as he kept his voice low. “Because if I have, I’d really like to know. And apologize.”
“Here you go.” Brooke interrupted our moment, two wineglasses being laid on the table in front of us. “Your food should be out shortly. Oh, and Uncle Gino said dessert is on him.”
Mack turned to Brooke, lifting out of his seat and reaching for his wallet. “Tell Gino thanks, but I’ve got this one.” He pulled out some bills and placed them on the table. “We’ll also take the tiramisu, and if you can wrap it with the rest of our order to go, that would be great.”
“You’re leaving?” Brooke echoed my thoughts.
Not sure why I was surprised, I’d offered to do exactly that not long ago. And even if he’d said no initially, he was allowed to change his mind.
“Yep.” He held out his hand, waiting for me to take it. “We’ve had a change of plans.”
Huh?
He was taking me with him?
Both confused and curious, I accepted his extended hand and stood.
After all, it was a weeknight and I’d gone to the trouble of dressing up, the least I could do is see what he had in mind.
Just as long as we ate.
Because whether I was his type or not, I was starving.
Mack
HAYDEN WAS BEAUTIFUL.
Not pretty.
Not cute.
But beautiful.
Like a classic Chevy with rounded fenders, or a movie star from a black and white movie, there was something about her that was undeniably compelling. And fuck, was I glad I’d taken a chance and suggested dinner because coffee sure as shit wouldn’t have been long enough.
Unable to stop looking, I knew I was probably making her uncomfortable. No woman wanted to be gawked at like a piece of meat, and yet there I was, keeping my mouth shut so my tongue didn’t polish the floor.
She was curvy, her jeans and top doing a fine job clinging to her body, a sample of what was underneath. And her huge gray eyes were so expressive, it was like they were having their own conversation.
We ditched the table, the wine, and the pretense, moving to the counter by the door. Our order had been changed to go, and I was planning on still having dinner with Hayden even if we were changing the location.
“You ready?” I asked, grabbing our food Brooke had so helpfully boxed up and taking Hayden’s hand. “We should probably get going before dinner gets cold.”
It was a gamble.
A total roll of the dice whether or not I ended up with her handprint across my face. But I liked playing the odds as much as the next guy so figured it was worth the risk.
“Where are we going?” She buttoned up her coat, her breath coming out in a smoky huff in the cold air.
“My place, it’s not far and there’s no audience. Figured it will be less noisy, too.”
I waited.
Anticipating either a few choice words or a right hook, but hoping for neither.
She dropped her hand from mine, taking a step closer and tilting her chin back so she could get a good look at me. “You really want to take me back to your place?”
“Yeah, I do,” I laughed, willing to bet she was as surprised as I was at the invitation. Well, it wasn’t much of an invitation considering I hadn’t asked. “Hayden, I’d like to have dinner with you, what do you say?”
Her eyes glanced down the busy street, people coming and going despite the cold. “How far? I’m parked around the corner.”
“I’m two blocks on 10th, why don’t I walk you to your car and we can park it closer,” I offered, not loving the idea of walking back later when it was darker and colder. And there wasn’t a chance in hell I would let her do that trek alone. “Better be quick though, I can already feel the pasta cooling down.”
Her head bobbed, giving me a nod in the affirmative as she directed me across the street. Parked not too far was an older model Ford Taurus, the lights blinking as we got closer and she hit the keyless entry.
Not waiting for an invitation, I walked to the passenger side, hopping in beside her as she started the ignition. Other than when I was in an engine, I liked to be behind the wheel. But given the circumstances and the company, I really didn’t give a shit, grateful we were going to hopefully pick up where we left off.
“Make a right and get on 10th, I’ll let you know where to park.” I pointed up ahead, the car easing away from the curb as she entered the flow of traffic.
The stereo was on, tuned to some popular rock station and playing songs I barely recognized. I remembered when my old man said that about the stuff I used to listen to, and there I was, spewing the same thing.
“What?” She turned, catching me in a smile. “And if it’s to complain about my driving, I’ll happily pull over so you can walk.”
I laughed, having learned a long time ago never to complain about a woman’s driving. “My sister-in-law drives like a maniac and I made the mistake of telling her only once. She left my ass on the 95 and I had to walk three miles in the Florida heat. Now I either shut my mouth and accept the ride gracefully or drive myself. So no, it wasn’t about your driving.”
“So . . .” She waited for me to continue.
I tapped the speaker in the door. “The music. I never thought I’d see the day when I didn’t recognize what was playing on popular stations but here we are. Everything is auto-tuned, over manufactured—there’s no telling who the hell it is anymore. Was just thinking about how much my complaining sounds like my old man.”
A smile edged on her lips as she nodded. “Oh, I’m with you there. I remember being in a moshpit for Soundgarden, people smuggling in weed and beer. Don’t miss the flannel though, I look hideous in plaid.”
“Ha, I find that hard to believe. I can’t imagine there is anything you don’t look good in.”
Her eyes darted to me before going quiet again, the smile slipping from her face. And either she thought I was feeding her a line, or she wasn’t very good at taking compliments. Neither sat well with me.
“Just up here, if you pull around the back, the garage has a couple of extra spaces for visitors. Fingers crossed we get lucky tonight.”
Fuck.
Not what I’d meant to say.
“I mean, hopefully there’s a vacant space,” I added, probably making it worse.
She followed my directions, doing me a favor and ignoring what I said as she pulled to the front of the roller door. “Do we need to press something.” She glanced at the metal box to the side, my ass already out of the seat as I went to input the numbers.
The door rose slowly, giving me time to get back into the car before she could drive through. “Take anything that’s free on the far left. I think there’s a gap between the Wrangler and BMW.”
“Wow, this must be a really nice place.” Her eyes widening at the rows of imports, shiny hood ornaments lining most of the garage.
Even a shithole with minimal square footage and no windows cost a fortune in my part of town, but my dad had bought into the co-up years before the neighbors had fancy cars. And when the folks made the move to Florida, he’d sold it to me. Lucked out considering it was right around the time of the divorce.
“Yeah, it used to be. Most of the old families have moved out so don’t really know who my neighbors are anymore. They seem to have expensive tastes though.”
She eased the Taurus into the space, cutting the ignition before we both exited the car. Even under the bright yellow security lighting she looked beautiful, taking a minute to appre
ciate the view as I grabbed the food and we walked to the elevator.
“I’m on four.” I pressed the corresponding button, leaning back against the wall as we started to climb.
We didn’t speak, taking the ride in silence until we got to my floor and the elevator door opened.
“You always lived here?” she asked, following me down the hall to my condo.
My fingers twisted the key in the lock, my front door popping open. “When I was younger, then back again in the last few years. It’s really close to work too.” I hit the hall lights, gesturing for her to go through.
“Ahhh yes, the fire station.” She walked in front of me, looking over her shoulder as I followed. “We didn’t even get to talk about your exciting job.”
“Well, you can ask me about anything you want while we eat.” I stopped at a doorway. “Kitchen or couch? I know it’s probably easier at a table but I thought I’d give you the choice. I’ll be honest, most nights I park myself in front of the tube and just eat there.”
Her eyes lit up, clueing me in that she liked the suggestion. “Oh, I love eating on the couch. It’s the only time I get to watch any T.V.”
With the debate settled, I lowered the food onto the coffee table and flicked on the lamp. “Make yourself at home, I’ll grab some plates from the kitchen.”
I didn’t leave her long, grabbing a few plates, forks, and a couple of beers before heading back to the living room.
“No merlot unfortunately.” I held up the bottles, feeling a little apologetic. “Not much of a wine drinker.”
She didn’t hesitate, twisting the cap off the beer and taking a swallow. “So why didn’t you order a beer at Gino’s?”
“Because I was trying to impress you,” I laughed. “Not saying I don’t drink it, I just prefer this.” I raised the icy long neck.
It was her turn to laugh, shaking her head as I opened up the plastic containers and dished out the pasta. “Mack, surely you don’t have problems impressing people. Seriously, I’m still wondering what the hell you’re doing with me.”