Willow finally gave him a small, shy smile, and Thatcher had to give himself credit for breaking through whatever wall she put up when she saw him. Then she looked down at her watch and quickly closed her purse.
"I have to be somewhere. I'm meeting someone, so uh…."
"Right, right. Yeah, me too actually." He stuffed the phone number in his pocket and started walking, realizing she was still alongside him. "I guess we're going the same way."
"Yeah, I guess."
They walked in silence until they got to the corner, and Thatcher couldn't help but look over at her a few times before they got there. He was so stunned to see her that he hadn't even noticed what she was wearing. But now that they were walking together, he really saw her. She was wearing a purple dress, kind of fancy but casual, with black high heels and a black purse to match. She looked gorgeous, and if he wasn't a gentleman, he'd be sending a note to LeLoup right now to cancel their date.
But he wasn't going to do that. He would never stand up a date. Instead, he would politely say goodbye to Willow, politely enjoy dinner with his date, and then politely go home and jerk off with the image of Willow in his head.
OK, sure. Based on all the other nights that ended that way after he first met Willow, he would not be doing that last part politely. At all.
Instead, they stopped at the corner and he waited to see which way she was going.
She turned and pointed towards the restaurant. "That's me."
He nodded and gave her a small smile. "Well, I'm glad I ran into you."
"Uh, yeah. Me too." Then she stepped close to him, gently put her hand on his arm, and gave him a small peck on the cheek. "Have a good night."
"You too."
He watched as she walked away, her curves stunning in that dress she was wearing. Then he forced himself to look away and figure out where to go next. He had decided that he would have to go a different way to the restaurant. He didn't want to be that creep that kept walking right next to her. Like, "Hey, we're going the same direction! What a coincidence!"
Nope. He had already embarrassed himself enough with the yammering about dinner or drinks or whatever.
This was all ridiculous. How did a few minutes of a chance encounter with Willow suddenly make him hot and bothered like that?
He continued to stare at her as she turned the corner, replacing his view with thoughts of her sitting on his kitchen counter, her nails digging into his shoulder as she took him for all he had.
He wanted that again.
But Thatcher had a date to get to and he wasn't going to stand her up because he was distracted by another woman. He would be polite, have a nice dinner, and make up something about how he had a great time but they didn't click.
Thatcher took a deep breath and crossed the street, taking a long way to get to dinner so he wouldn't run into Willow again. He was an athlete. He could use the extra exercise.
Thatcher pulled out his wallet and grabbed Willow's phone number from his front pocket. He didn't want to lose this, not after all this time thinking about her.
But he wanted to look at the paper before he put it away, make sure it was real.
She had written on the paper with a red pen and loopy feminine writing. Her name was Willow Wolf. Wolf like LeLoup.
What a coincidence, he thought.
Then he stuffed it in his wallet in a safe spot and headed to dinner.
Chapter Three
Calm down, Willow. Calm the hell down.
What had just happened? All she knew was that she was texting her friend Anna to let her know she was on her way to this date.
I'm going on that date you talked me into
Yay! Let me know how it goes! Or don't because you're getting laid
Anna's reply was followed by three of those little celebration horn emojis and then a few eggplants.
