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Felicity lowers her head, but her eyes meet mine. Shyness and seduction war with one another in her gaze and it’s a heady combination. I swallow hard.
“Is this a date?” she whispers.
I almost answer with humor.Do you want this to be a date?But I don’t feel like hiding behind my humor tonight.
“Yes,” I say emphatically.
Her smile is my reward, and fuck me, it could generate enough power for this whole city, it’s that bright.
“Owen called while you were in the restroom. He said to tell you the puppies are squeaking even more. He wanted me to practice the sound to show you.”
She laughs. “Come on then.” She wiggles her fingers for me to be out with it.
I glance around, my chest rumbling with my laugh. I laugh a lot more with Felicity in my life; Owen does too. I lean in sothe whole restaurant won’t hear, and in this upscale restaurant, I mimic the newborn puppy sounds.
Her head falls back and she laughs so hard, her eyes tear up. “Do it again,” she wheezes.
I do, and only stop when a throat clears next to me. The waiter stands there, looking stern and very concerned.
I frown, trying to match his seriousness, but can’t hold it, and it just makes Felicity laugh harder.
“Did you find anything on the drink menu?” the waiter asks.
“Would you like to share a bottle of wine?” I ask Felicity.
She nods gratefully, lifting her cloth napkin to dab her eyes. The waiter asks to see her ID, and she shows him, and it doesn’t escape my attention that he doesn’t bother asking for mine.
We go with the waiter’s recommendations and go ahead and order our food too, and when he walks away, Felicity fans her face.
“He was having none of that,” she says, cracking up again.
“He’d get along very well with Miss Eleanor.”
She lifts her eyebrows. “She’s that serious?”
“Even more. This guy sort of lifted his lip in an almost smile when he left the table. Miss Eleanor…nope.”
“Wow. That is intense. I don’t know if I’d be able to handle that level of somberness day after day.”
“We get shit done. There’s no lingering in the breakroom to gossip or catching up about our weekends. It’s wham, bam, thank you, ma’am.”
She giggles. “I never knew that’s what that saying meant.”
“Seemed to fit in a weird sort of way.”
Her eyes twinkle in the candlelight, and I can’t take my eyes off of her. She looks so beautiful, her hair a shock of color against her black dress.
“You’re gorgeous every day, but tonight…God, it’s beyond.”
Her lips pucker and then she grins. “Maybe it’s because you can look at me all you want and not be afraid of what everyone is thinking.”
I’m quiet for a moment and then nod. “I think you’re right.”
When our food and wine comes, it’s out of this world. We take bites of each other’s meals and then trade because she likes mine more than hers. We talk and talk and talk, barely pausing for breath, and we laugh about every little thing. I feel drunk on her, high on this feeling, barely able to believe how happy she makes me.
We share two desserts and the sounds she makes keep me in an even more painful state than I’ve been in all night.
It’s the longest foreplay I’ve experienced without ever touching her.
