“What date?” Chance asks as he turns into the parking lot.
“Hmm?” My gaze whips to him. Shit. I’ve been muttering out loud. “No date. It’s nothing.”
He sticks next to me as we proceed into the fancy restaurant. Everything is coated in a warm glow, and elegantly dressed patrons chat across primly decorated tables. It’s unlike the rustic restaurant we visited for lunch, but nice nonetheless. Maybe it’s not the place but the man.
I only realize I’ve been staring at his profile when his gaze drops to me.
I can’t look away.
He holds my eyes for a long second. Then smiles. “Come on.”
Hand on my lower back, he directs us to a table and pulls out my chair.
He takes his seat opposite me and immediately picks up his menu, obstructing my view.
I put a finger on top of it and pull it down. “What are you doing?”
“Choosing what to eat?”
“Is that what you do on dates,boyfriend?”
He opens his mouth but no words come out. “What am I to do?”
“Talk to me, I guess. Have you ever been on a date before?”
“You usually do most of the talking. For some reason, you’re quiet tonight and…”
I frown. “And?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs, and promptly shields his face again.
Wait, what? Is he nervous and unsure?THEChance Easton?
I start to laugh and press my hand to my lips to stifle the sound.
He drops his menu. “What are you doing?”
“You’re cute when you’re nervous.”
“I’m not nervous.” He looks away.
His jaw twitches with held-back laughter.
“You are. And I am too.”
He looks back at me warily.
“And that’s okay,” I say quietly. “I’m on a date with my boss. That’s daunting.”
“Boyfriend.”
“Fake boyfriend,” I amend.
He smiles.
“We can just be nervous together.” I shrug. Cheesy as fuck but it works.
Chance is more relaxed and my heart’s not running a thousand miles a minute any longer.
