AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“I got it for my grandma’s funeral.”
He stops. “You were going to go out with me in a funeral dress?”
I laugh. Then wince. “Yeah.”
He shakes his head. “This is much better.”
And I agree.
Thirty minutes later, Owen pulls the restaurant door open, and escorts me inside.
“Right this way, Mr. Phillips,” the hostess says, and I'm hit by a terrible thought that causes me to giggle.
He has his hand on my lower back as he leads me to our table. He looks down at me with a brow up. "What?"
I shake my head.
At the table, he pulls my chair out for me, and I watch as he rounds the table, taking his seat.
I feel a little more at ease now that we’re at the table. I've had nice dinners before. I know how to put the white cloth napkin in my lap, I know which fork to use, and I'm very much looking forward to the salmon they have here.
The hostess tells us that our waiter, Stephen, will be right over.
As soon as she's gone, Owen leans in. "What were you laughing about?"
I lean in, too. "It's just that the only times I've ever been here, I’ve been with my parents."
He narrows his eyes. "And you are thinking about how much older I am than you?"
My smile gets wider. "Yes. And how you definitely seemed at ease with the hostess calling you Mr. Phillips. None of the guys I date are ever called Mr. anything except maybe by the high school principal when they've gotten caught sneaking in late to class."
Now he grins. "You will not be calling me Mr. Phillips tonight," he warns. "I am older than you. But I'm not old."
I nod. "Okay. I'll just stick with Sir then."
I can see that I've shocked him, but he’s unable to answer because the waiter arrives just then.
I feel Owen watching me the entire time the waiter tells us the specials, fills our water glasses, takes our wine order, and then leaves.
I pick up my water and take a sip as my eyes finally meet Owen’s across the table.
"What?" I ask after I swallow.
"Just thinking that I’m pretty sure I'll like that."
Heat arrows from my stomach down into my panties. I know that we’re talking about my use of ‘Sir’ with him. And I'm not only surprised that he said that, but also that he said I'll, as in I will, rather than I would, as if it was some kind of hypothetical.
I set my glass down and say, "Duly noted."
The waiter returns and pours our wine and asks if we have any questions. I don't because I know exactly what I want. It seems Owen does as well, so we place our orders.
I take a sip of my wine and close my eyes to appreciate it. I don't get to spend money on this kind of wine very often.
When I open my eyes, I find Owen leaning onto the table on both forearms, just watching me.
"Did I spill down the front of me?" I ask, looking down.
He shakes his head. "No. I’m just kind of in awe that you’re here with me."
