“You weren’t kidding about the service,” Wren said. “Does she know you? And really hate you?”
“Nope. That’s just how she is. Her sister is the other server. She has the sweetest personality, but forgets everything you say about five seconds after it leaves your mouth.”
Wren laughed, and he was relieved the black cloud over their dinner was lifted. “So you can have great service with a bad attitude, or a great attitude with bad service, but not both?”
“Exactly.” He cut the calzone in half and shifted her portion to her plate. “But the calzones are always good.”
“This looks amazing. And I’m starving.”
He grabbed the ketchup bottle and poured a puddle onto the plate next to his half of the calzone. It wasn’t ideal, but he remembered Wren didn’t like ketchup on her fries, so he couldn’t just pour it directly over the basket.
There were benefits to dating a woman for a second time, he thought. He already knew her dos and don’ts, and her weird little quirks. Not liking ketchup on fries was definitely weird.
“What are you thinking about that’s making you smile like that?”
Busted. “I was remembering that you don’t like ketchup on fries because you’re weird.”
“Paying for crispy, salty potatoes that you can’t even taste because all you can taste is the ketchup is what’s weird.”
He laughed and dredged a fry through the puddle of ketchup before popping it in his mouth. They’d had this conversation on their third date, when he’d taken her to the aquarium. He’d bought fries from a street cart and, because they were walking around, he’d just poured the ketchup over the fries. She’d tried to be a good sport, but the grimace every time she took a bite gave her away.
They avoided heavy conversation for the rest of the meal, much to Grant’s relief. It hadn’t been easy for him to reach out to her after last night, but he’d wanted to spend time with her alone. And now he was glad he’d worked up the nerve to send the text.
Once they were done eating, there wasn’t a lot of point in sticking around. There was no dessert menu and Wren claimed to be too full to eat another bite, anyway. It was time to be a gentleman and take her home.
And because he was a gentleman, he didn’t just pull into the driveway and let her jump out. He walked her to the front door, where she turned and looked up at him.
“Thanks again for the dinner.”
“It was my pleasure. Thank you for the company.” Because of his determination not to push, he didn’t move any closer, even though his body felt as if it was a dowsing rod and she was fresh water.
Wren took a half step toward him, her face tilted up. “Are we really doing the awkward first kiss goodnight dance?”
“After last night, I made a promise to myself not to push you, since we’re...on shaky new ground, I guess.”
She tilted her head, her mouth curved into an inviting, sexy half smile. “Am I allowed to push you?”
“Absolutely.”
She braced her hands against his chest as if she was actually going to push him, but then she ran them over his shoulders as she pulled him closer.
Touching his lips to hers felt like coming home. He was more content—happier—than he’d been in a long time as he finally claimed her mouth. Her fingers slid into his hair and his tongue danced over hers.
Mine.
It was the same thought that had gone through his mind the very first time he’d kissed her. He leaned in, the kiss growing deeper and more possessive until her body was pressed to his.
Reluctantly, he pulled back, breaking off the kiss. They were both a little breathless, and a smile played with the corners of her mouth.
“Smiling’s a good sign,” he said, surprised by how rough his voice sounded.
“That was our second first kiss.” The smile was bright, but her eyes looked a little misty. “Goodnight, Grant.”
She opened the door and slipped inside before he could say anything else, so he just walked back to his Jeep, trying not to whistle like an old movie cliché.
Their second first kiss. And maybe, this time, it had been their last first kiss.
Chapter Nine
