I quickly look away and busy myself shoving nearby objects into gear bags. What will Drew say? What excuse will he give Wyatt? He could say that he fell or scratched himself . . . But if Wyatt looks at Drew’s shoulder for longer than a second, he’ll know for sure that’s garbage. You don’t get human teeth marks on your shoulder from falling.
My face heats as the seconds tick by. But then I hear Drew’s easygoing chuckle. I peek up at him. He’s grinning, neck twisted to look at the offending spot on his left shoulder.
“Oh that.” He shrugs at Wyatt. “Just had a nice time the other night, that’s all.”
He slips on a white T-shirt over his head while Wyatt looks on. Recognition flashes across Wyatt’s face and he chuckles. He nods at Drew. “Damn. I thought I heard the front door open the other night. Someone’s been sneaking out?”
Drew smirks as he pulls on his jacket. “Something like that.”
“Say no more.” Wyatt holds up a hand, grinning.
Drew grabs a couple of gear bags in each hand, then catches eyes with me. I have to turn away because I’m grinning like a total goober.
A minute later he offers to help me carry more gear to the cars.
“So. We’ve got a whole day free tomorrow.” He glances down at me. “What do you feel like doing, Dunn?”
I glance around and make sure that no one is within hearing distance. “What I’d like to do involves staying in one of our hotel rooms for the majority of the day.”
And so I can finally tell you just how crazy I am about you.
I bite my lip, wondering if it’s obvious just how much I’m buzzing with bliss on the inside.
A spark flashes behind Drew’s eyes. “I’ll never say no to more time in bed with you.” Something serious and sincere takes over his expression. “But can we do something else too? Like, go out to dinner?”
His request is a surprise, but I can’t help the joy bursting in my chest. Perfect timing. Tomorrow night I’ll tell him how I feel and that I want to make things official between us. “I’d like that.”
The most beautiful smile spreads across his face. It does something strange and wonderful to my heart.
“Then it’s a date.”
* * *
• • •
“Are you ever going to tell me where we’re going?” I glance over at Drew in the driver’s seat of his truck, trying to keep my drooling under control.
He grins as he drives along the main road in Moab. “It’s a surprise. We’re almost there, though.”
I still can’t get over how dapper he looks. When he met me at the door of my hotel room to pick me up for dinner, my jaw dropped clear to the floor. I didn’t think Drew could ever look more handsome than the times I’ve seen him decked out in all that rugged outdoor gear—or naked.
I was sorely mistaken. He’s a vision in slate-gray dress pants and a crisp white shirt, the top buttons left undone so I can steal a peek of his gorgeous smooth skin. I’ve never been someone who goes nuts over a guy in a suit the way others do. But now that I’ve seen Drew all cleaned up, my stance on men in suits has changed. I’d kill to see him in a tie and a suit jacket now . . . and then I’d strip it off him, piece by piece . . .
“You’re staring,” he says, the edge of his mouth twitching up into a smile.
“That’s because I’ve never seen you so dressed up. You look incredible.”
“That goes double for you, Dunn.”
I smile to myself when I remember how he looked at me when I opened the door. His eyes went wide and his mouth dropped as he did a full-body scan of me in the black velvet romper, black blazer, and black heels I chose for tonight. A hungry smirk crept onto his face.
His eyes cut back to my legs, which I’m silently proud of. All that hauling and hiking during these past several weeks have resulted in me gaining some nice tone in my calves and thighs.
“Those legs. Damn.”
I bite my lip at his growl, then smooth a hand over the hem of my shorts. I was so excited for a proper date with Drew that I ran to a random Moab boutique earlier and bought a new outfit. “You told me to dress up. This was the best I could come up with. I just hope it’s up to the dress code of the place we’re going.”
Drew turns off the main road and then takes another turn. He pulls into a gravel parking lot near a medium-size, two-story brick house with a dark roof. It looks like a house that’s been turned into a restaurant.
“Thought we’d give Desert Bistro a try,” he says as he shuts his truck off and unbuckles his seat belt. I smile in giddy surprise at how Drew has planned an intimate and romantic date.
I start to open my car door but he tells me to hold tight, then jogs around the truck to help me out. I thank him as he takes my hand and leads me across the parking lot.
“I didn’t pick the best shoes for this,” I say as I wobble slightly on the uneven gravel.
“I can carry you if you’d like.”
“Don’t you dare.”
We both laugh. Inside I’m buzzing at the surprise and how easy it is to be with Drew in this environment—in any environment. It doesn’t seem to matter if we’re covered in dust and sweat, naked in bed together, or on our way to a fancy dinner. It always feels good to be around him.
For a quick moment, I wonder when would be the best time to broach the subject of making things official between us, but I don’t want to interrupt the natural and playful flow of our conversation.
Relax. Enjoy the moment. You can talk serious stuff later.
Drew opens the door for me and we step inside the cozy restaurant. When he places his hand on the small of my back, I close my eyes and quietly swoon. It makes me weak in the knees every single time he pulls this move.
When I open my eyes, I take in the interior, which is bright with loads of massive windows. The late-afternoon sunlight bathes the light hardwood floors in a bright glow. Polished wooden tables adorn the open space. Along the walls are framed photos and illustrations of various desert scenes and the iconic red rocks of southern Utah. A handful of woven fabric wall hangings with geometric motifs in bold colors complete the décor.
“I love this place,” I say, enchanted.
“You haven’t tried the food yet,” Drew teases.
I breathe in the aroma of garlic and spices. “It smells amazing in here. I have no doubt the food will be incredible.”
A smiling hostess greets us and leads us to a two-person table by a window in the corner of the restaurant. I can see other diners near us, but we’re far enough from them that our small table feels private and intimate.
She hands us two food menus and a drink menu.
“Have you been here before?” I ask Drew.
“Nope. I’m a Desert Bistro virgin.” He opens the menu.
I giggle into my glass, narrowly avoiding choking on my water. “I can’t take how good you look. You should dress up more often.”
When he grins, the slightest tinge of pink creeps up his neck and cheeks.
“You trimmed your beard.”
“I didn’t want to look like the Beast standing next to Beauty all night long.”
I scrunch my nose at him, fighting the very cheesy smile that’s aching to stretch across my face.
“You’re dynamite with the compliments tonight.”
He scoots his chair closer to the table and rests his elbow on the edge. “Just speaking the truth. You look insanely good, Alia.”
I finally let that cheesy smile loose. “I like that you call me both Alia and Dunn. No one else does that.”
“Is Alia a family name? I’ve never heard it before.”
The server arrives, and we order a bottle of white wine.
“It’s a weird story. My name was supposed to be Aila, after my dad’s grandma, who was from Scotland. But it’s such an uncommon name here
in the US that the hospital misspelled it on my birth certificate.”
“Seriously?”
“Seriously. But my parents ended up liking the sound of ‘Alia’ better, so they just left it.”
“That’s an epic name-origin story. I got the name Andrew because it’s my dad’s middle name.”
We’re chuckling as the server returns with the wine. He pours us each a glass, and we sip in silence for a few minutes while we look over the menu.
“I won’t have to carry you back to the car after drinking this, will I?” he teases.
“Nope. I had a glass of pickle juice earlier, so I’m covered.”
He chuckles when I wink at him.
“Do you know what you want to order?”
“The beef tenderloin sounds incredible,” I say sipping the crisp wine. “This is the best wine I’ve ever had, by the way.”
“Happy to hear it.” He sets his glass down, my favorite sly smile curling his lips.
I glance around the dining room, taking it all in. “It’s been ages since I’ve been out for a proper dinner like this. I usually just order food to go when I’m lucky enough to be near decent restaurants while on location. Or even when I’m home in New York. The long hours we work, I just don’t have the patience or energy to cook.”
I stop myself when I realize I’m babbling, but when I glance up at Drew, he doesn’t seem bothered, gauging by the content expression on his face.
“When’s the last time you were taken out for a proper, fancy dinner?” he asks.
I look off to the side, trying my hardest to remember. “I was twenty-five.”
Drew almost drops his glass. “Damn, Dunn. How’s that possible? A woman like you hasn’t been out on a single proper, fancy dinner date in seven years?”
“I’m flattered that you think I deserve to be wined and dined at only the finest establishments.”
He winks at me.
“But honestly, that fancy dinner was so awkward. The guy I was going out with at the time was trying to go all out for my birthday. We had only been dating for a couple of months. I told him he didn’t need to, but he insisted.”
“Wow. He really went for it.”
I tilt my head at him. “You haven’t heard the worst part. He surprised me by bringing his mom on the date—and I’d never met her before.”
Drew winces.
I let out a drawn-out “yeah” in response.
“I’m guessing that was incredibly awkward?” Drew asks.
“You guessed right. It made me feel horrible, honestly. I knew the relationship wasn’t going to last . . . I was actually trying to figure out a way to break things off, and then he springs this fancy date on me and also, ‘Surprise! You get to meet my mom!’ I wasn’t going to break up with him when we were out to dinner together, so I tried to be as polite and pleasant as humanly possible, but it was so uncomfortable. His mom kept asking questions about when we were going to get married and how many kids I wanted to have.”
“You’re joking.”
“I wish. She even made a comment about how I needed to get on it because my biological clock was ticking.”
“Fuck,” he mutters behind his wineglass before taking a sip.
A server walking by whips his head at Drew and frowns at his cursing. We both throw our heads back and laugh. A minute later, a different server stops by our table to take our dinner orders.
“The nerve of her,” Drew says while rubbing his hand over his cheeks. “And you just sat there and took that all night? On your birthday?”
I grimace while nodding. “I was young and in my people-pleasing phase. I wouldn’t do that now, of course.”
Drew reaches over and brushes away a strand of hair that’s stuck to my glossed lips.
I take a second to savor the feel of his thumb on my mouth. Then I clear my throat and settle down. “In a nutshell, it was hands down the most uncomfortable dinner I’ve ever had in my life. The food didn’t even taste good. I was so worked up, I couldn’t enjoy it.”
“Yikes,” Drew says, drinking more wine.
“I broke up with him the day after that date. I’m sure his mom hated me.”
“She doesn’t sound very likable herself.”
Drew pours me another glass of wine, and I quietly reflect on how easy it is to joke and laugh with him about anything. I’d never met someone I could be this at ease with before.
“When is your birthday? I don’t think I’ve ever asked you.”
“August 12,” I say. “When’s yours?”
“December 5.”
“Ah, that’s a really good date to have a birthday, if you’re going to have a birthday in December,” I say. “Not too close to Christmas, so you don’t get screwed out of a proper birthday present. I hate when people give one gift and say it’s both a Christmas and birthday gift.”
“Well, I did try my very best to make my mom go into labor with me well before Christmas,” he says matter-of-factly. I cover my mouth to keep from laughing too loud.
Our server stops by again to drop off a basket of freshly baked biscuits and homemade butter along with the steak tartare we ordered as our appetizer. We dig into both dishes, alternately between bites and making “mmm” sounds.
“I don’t know if I ever want to eat steak cooked again after trying this,” Drew says.
“Do you think it would be rude for me to flag down the waiter and ask for my beef tenderloin to be left raw?”
Drew breaks into a boisterous, full-body laugh. A couple seated several feet away turns to stare. I feel weirdly proud of causing such a reaction.
“I guess this isn’t really the place to let out a loud cackle, is it?” he says.
I wave my hand in the direction of the gawking couple, brushing them off. “Nah, laugh away. You’re here to have a good time.”
The meal is perfectly timed. The moment we finish our appetizer, a busser promptly takes away the empty plates and refills our glasses. We sip wine for a few minutes before our entrees arrive.
“Mmmm, oh my God,” I say after the first bite. “Okay, I stand corrected. This steak is perfect. I don’t want it raw anymore.”
I hold out a bite to Drew. His eyes nearly roll to the back of his head as he chews. “Wow, that’s incredible.”
I raise my right eyebrow and shoot him a knowing smile. My eyes drop to my plate.
“What’s that look for?” he asks.
“It’s nothing.” I shake my head, still smiling.
“If you don’t tell me right now, I’m going to laugh again and piss off that couple who glared at us earlier.”
When I refuse to say anything for several seconds, he lets out a boisterous “Ha!”
“Okay, okay,” I say in a loud whisper, trying not to laugh. “God, what a child you are.”
He raises his brow at me. “So tell me. What was that look about just now?”
“The way you rolled your eyes eating that bite of steak.” I pause. “You make that face a lot in bed.”
“Oh.” He blushes once more. “I . . . uh . . . wasn’t expecting you to say that.” He smiles, clearly embarrassed.
I reach out and touch his hand gently. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s hot.” I hold his gaze, hoping that shows him just how very unembarrassed he should be.
“Okay, no more of that dirty talk out of you,” he says while grinning. Then he slices a piece of his duck for me. “Eat this. This should keep you from saying much for at least a minute.”
I laugh and chomp down on the fork. “Mmm, yum!” I say with a full mouth.
“Shh,” he says, pressing his index finger over his lips. “Focus on chewing.”
I giggle while trying to keep my mouth closed. We finish our meal, and the server asks if we’re in the mood for dessert. Drew glances at me.
“
I’ll leave that up to her.”
I check the time. “As good as dessert sounds, we’d better get going. We still have to meet the crew at Moab Brewery for drinks. Remember?”
The server nods and collects our plates and starts to turn.
I lean over the table and lock eyes with Drew, careful to keep my tone low. “We can have dessert later. At the hotel.”
The server must have heard me because he’s chuckling while he walks away.
Drew appears unfazed, though. He doesn’t even blink. Only that sly smile remains. “Yum.”
The check arrives and I reach for it, but he grabs it from me. “Let me at least split it with you,” I say.
Drew frowns at me, looking the most serious I’ve ever seen him. “No way that’s happening. I asked you here; I’ll pick up the check.”
He winks at me and places his credit card in the sleeve of the pocket with the bill holder. I thank him and take one quiet, deep breath. Now’s as good a time as any to tell Drew how I feel about him and how I want us to be more than just a work hookup.
When the server returns after running his card, he signs the bill and we stand up from our table.
“Drew, can I . . .”
He turns away as we walk past the host stand at the entrance of the restaurant and pulls a slim box of matches from a small metal bin sitting on the edge.
He hands me the matchbox. “So you remember tonight after we leave Utah. And me.”
I stare at the tiny box in my hand, my heartbeat skidding to a halt as we walk to the car.
“What do you mean by that?”
“We probably won’t go out to dinner like this again. Gotta enjoy this while it lasts, Dunn.” He speaks while staring straight ahead without looking at me.
“Oh. Right.” That’s a hell of a way to phrase things. It’s like he’s acknowledging that this was all temporary . . .
This perfect date will be over soon—and our time together will end. Everything between us will just be a memory.
That thought cracks my heart in half. It’s clear as day in this moment that Utah is the end of the road for Drew and me.
On Location Page 25