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"I still feel like I'm underdressed."
I glanced at her as we reached the front door to the stone building. "I come here dressed in sweatpants half the time. You already look better than anyone else. Don't fret, my love."
A pink tint drifted across her cheeks, but the lights were dim enough inside the restaurant that her blush was hidden. I saw it and that was enough for me. I knew the effect I had on her. It was clear she knew it too, even if she wanted to act like she was oblivious to it all.
I gave the hostess my name and she led us through the small space to the table that was reserved for the two of us. It was a booth, tucked away in the corner of the room. Perfect and private, just what I wanted with her.
"This is really nice, Mac," Juliette whispered as she slid into the circular booth. I expected her to put some distance between us, but much to my surprise, she didn't stop moving until she was sitting right beside me. The place settings on the table were arranged that way, but I knew that wasn’t why she sat by me. Juliette Anderson had a thing for doing the opposite of what people told her to do, so I didn't see her sitting in the spot expected for her just because it was set up that way.
"I should have asked if you liked French food before assuming you would like it here."
She tilted her head to the side. "I didn't say I don't like it here. It's beautiful." She paused, her tongue darting out to wet her lips. "It's perfect, Mac. Thank you for bringing me here."
"I hope this is just the first of many places I get to take you."
A smile touched her lips. "I hope so too."
The tension was thick in the air around us, but neither of us revisited it as we ordered our food. Opting for something a bit less confrontational, we settled into conversation about hockey. As long as I didn't bring up her past, it was a safe topic to talk about. She wanted to know all about how our trip on the road went and I was equally as curious about how things were while I was gone.
I didn't realize how much I had grown accustomed to her company until that moment. The moment we were done eating and the conversation settled like dust around our feet. There was a comfortableness, a familiarity between us. She took a sip of her wine and her eyes smiled as she watched me.
This was the contentment I had been desperate to find in life. Juliette was simultaneously a breath of fresh air, but also like coming home. Like she was exactly where she belonged—with me. I had missed her while I was away and I hated the thought of leaving again. Things between us could never be like this, but I'd be damned if I wasn't going to hold on to the moment for as long as I could.
Our server arrived back at the table with my card after I paid the bill. I took the folder from her and flipped it open before filling out the tip information and signing my name. Juliette was still watching me with a touch of curiosity dancing in her irises. Tucking the pen inside, I closed the bill folder and slid out of the booth. Juliette moved with me, sliding her hand into mine as I held it out for her again.
"Are you going to tell me where we're going now?"
I shook my head. "You'll see when we get there."
"Okay," she said with reluctance as she finally gave in. Instead of questioning me, she decided she was just going to go with it, which was the most spontaneous thing I’d seen Juliette do since I met her. I led her out of the restaurant and back to my car before helping her inside. I closed the door behind her and adrenaline coursed through my veins as I walked around the front of the car to the driver's side.
I could already feel it.
She was going to be the end of me.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
JULIETTE
My head turned to the side and I looked up at the outside of the building as Mac pulled his car into a parking spot and turned the engine off. He remained silent, his hand still in mine as soft music played in the background. I was a little perplexed as I turned back to look at him with my forehead creased. He brought me to the stadium.
"What are we doing here?"
A smile crossed his lips. "What do you think?"
"You brought me here to skate?"
Mac shrugged with indifference, like he was trying to play it cool. "I could have taken you to a public rink, but I didn't want to. I want it to just be you and me on the ice—no one else."
I stared at him for a moment, a little taken aback by what he had said. It wasn’t in a bad way, it just caught me off guard. The things he said or did for me were things no one else had ever done before. I couldn’t help but feel a little skeptical, but I could also feel my resolve breaking. Mac Sullivan was tearing down my walls and he didn’t even realize it.
Mac got out of the car and walked over to my door to open it before moving to the trunk. I got out and shut the door behind me and walked over to where he was. He handed me my bag that had my skates inside.
“Do you want your stick?” he asked me as he grabbed the butt end of the hockey stick.
I shook my head. “I think I just want to skate, if that’s okay.”
“Whatever you want to do,” he replied with a smile as he released the stick and left both mine and his in the trunk. He leaned forward, grabbing his skates, and shut the trunk. He motioned toward the building with a hint of mischief in his expression. “Shall we?”
