“Don’t tell me this date is happening in my driveway,” she teases. Her voice is light, but her hands are still fidgeting.
“No, Hannah.” I grin. “But you’ll have to excuse me for being a little distracted by how beautiful you look tonight.”
She rolls her eyes, my line so cheesy it probably tastes like Parmesan, but the sweetest hint of pink blushes her cheeks.
“What?” I question, acting clueless. “A man is supposed to compliment his pretty lady when he’s taking her out.”
“His lady?” she questions back, and I just waggle my brows.
“I’m manifesting, baby.”
She giggles at that, but it’s still a little shy, a little hesitant, and I reach out to gently take her hand into mine.
“I’m not lying, though, Hannah,” I say, my voice serious in the exact way it should be to convey my truth. “You look beautiful.”
“Thank you,” she answers, her cheeks flushing deeper as she clears her throat.
“Hey,” I murmur, squeezing her hand. “There’s no need to be nervous with me, okay?”
She glances at me, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “But aren’t all first dates a little nerve-racking?”
“Hannah, you don’t have to hold back or feel nervous with me. I’d say we’ve been through more than enough together.” I wink. “Or do I need to remind you of some of the CMA calls we’ve sat through?”
“Oh Lordy.” She snorts, her lips twitching at the corners. “Yeah. Don’t do that.”
“But maybe I should ...” I tease, grinning. “I mean, the toenail guy? Or the one who wanted you to pretend to be an alien queen?”
Her laugh bounces around in the car, bright and genuine, and my chest feels like it’s soaring. There she is.My Hannah.Relaxed. Comfortable. Herself.
“Okay, okay,” she relents, shaking her head. “How about we leave the alien dude in the past, please. Pretty sure I just got over my nightmares.”
“Fine.” I lean in a little closer, grinning. “But I’m serious, Hannah. Whatever you’re thinking or feeling, I want to know. No filters.”
“Okay,” she says, her cheeks still pink but her eyes holding a playful spark.
“Now that we got that settled”—I squeeze her hand gently—“is there anything you want to tell me? About howIlook tonight, perhaps?”
She narrows her eyes but can’t hide her smile. “What do you want me to say, Dom?”
“I don’t know. Something about how ruggedly handsome I am. Or maybe how sexy my cowboy hat will look on me when I put it on. You know, just some adjectives.”
“Adjectives?”
“Yeah.” I shrug. “You know,handsome,sexy,take-your-breath-away good-looking,masculine,rugged,stunning,alluring... just something simple like that.”
“Something simple like that?” She cackles, but then she schools her face into neutrality. “Dominic, you look ... nice tonight.”
“Nice?” I furrow my brow. “Nice?”
“Yeah, nice.” She nods, her mouth kicking up into a playful smile. “I’m really digging the whole jeans and white T-shirt thing you’ve got going on. It’s all verynice.” Her tone is 100 percent teasing, and it sends a thrill through me. Seeing her like this—comfortable enough to joke back—feels like a victory.
I eye her knowingly, and a giggle escapes her lips.
She also removes her hand from mine to slap me playfully on the arm. “Dom, you and I both know that you know you look good. Really good. So good, in fact, if I recall, I requested your presence in my bed the other night.” Her cheeks flush pink again, but her eyes never leave mine.
“Okay,” I acquiesce. “You do bring up a valid point. I guess I’ll let the ‘nice’ thing slide.”
“Good plan.”
