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She looked back at the waiter. "I'll have the salmon with grilled veggies please."
"And I'll have the steak. With two sides of fries," I added.
"Right away." He took the menus before disappearing.
"Why did you order two fries?" Her voice was laced with suspicion.
"Because a certain sexy woman might start stealing mine otherwise."
She giggled and then covered her mouth with her hand. "I'm sorry, I don't know where that came from. You're right. When you said fries, I was like 'Oh snap. How am I going to resist them?' I mean, I already have trouble resisting you."
Her comment went straight to my cock. "Reese!"
She lowered her hand. "Hmmm, wasn't my best idea to say that out loud, huh? Some things I should just keep to myself."
I tilted my head, wondering how much to push. "What else are you keeping to yourself, Reese?"
"That I think you're the most considerate man I've ever met. I still can't believe you turned on the seat heater for me."
I blinked, jerking my head back a bit. "Right. And that was a big thing because...?"
"You don’t even know, do you?"
"No," I said honestly.
"It just shows that you thought about my needs. That you thought about me."
Why was this so surprising to her?
"And you wanted to come to a jazz bar even though you don't like the music," she continued.
I moved a bit closer to her, speaking right into her ear. "I'll tell you a secret. It's growing on me, and I think it's 100 percent your doing."
“And now you've ordered fries,” she said.
I wiggled my eyebrows again. “If you want, I can order dessert too.”
“Now you’re just being completely shameless.”
The server brought our cocktails, putting them in front of us. We clinked our glasses and tipped them up. I choked several times while I tried to take a sip. This was so damn pink, and it tasted even worse.
Reese glanced at me, but I couldn't read her expression. Then she put her glass down on the table and burst out laughing.
“Oh my God. This is going to make you swear off jazz bars, isn't it? I promise, not all twenties cocktails are as shitty as this one.”
I laughed with her, setting my own glass down. I didn't want to risk it spilling over—that's how hard we were laughing.
“Don't worry, I don't mind jazz bars at all. In fact, if you come with me, I'm willing to explore a few more.”
“Is that your way of asking to spend more time with me?”
“Hell yes. I wasn't being subtle, Reese.”
“I do have a list of my favorite spots. I think you'd like one or two of them.”
I swallowed hard. “I wasn't expecting you to offer so easily, but I’m glad you did.”
She shrugged, then grabbed her glass again. “Oh, what the hell?” She took another sip. “I need liquid courage.”
