“They’re not supposed to be cute,” he grumbled. “They’re supposed to protect you.”
“I think they can do both,” I argued. “They can still guard the house and me from inside—I won’t keep them in all the time, either. Just sometimes, please?”
He sighed, the type of sigh that told me I might be getting somewhere. “I’ll think about it. For now, they’re going out.” He opened the door, gesturing for them to head outside, which they did. “And you’re going to go get dressed. We’re going out.” He grinned as he handed me the flowers and kissed me soundly.
“Really?” I asked in surprise. “I figured we’d be celebrating at the club.”
“I thought about it,” he replied, pulling me in close and staring down at me. “Then I realized I have yet to take my girl out on a proper date.”
“You know I don’t care about that,” I assured him.
“Well, I do,” he murmured. “Now, get dressed before I lose my restraint altogether and take you to bed instead,” he ordered, swatting me on the backside.
I had showered and done my hair and makeup by the time he came to check on me, finding me in a robe, rifling through the closet in frustration. “I don’t know what to wear,” I groaned. “I can’t wait to have my full wardrobe back.”
He chuckled, wrapping his arms around me from behind, his chin resting on my shoulder. “Baby, there are like five dresses hanging there.”
“Not the right ones,” I grumbled. “I wanted to knock your socks off.”
“Baby, you knock my socks off by breathing. You’ll look gorgeous in whatever you choose. But choose something. We have reservations,” he prompted. “Gotta make a call. Meet you in the living room.”
I nodded, still staring at my options.
“Babe, choose,” he repeated before he left the room.
After a moment longer of indecision, and thinking about the cooler weather, I chose my leather leggings, heels, and an off-the-shoulder dark green sweater.
“Damn, babe.” Ruston’s rumble of appreciation confirmed I’d chosen well when I found him in the kitchen drinking a beer.
Wearing black jeans, a brown belt, and a black, long-sleeved Henley that showcased his muscular frame, he looked edible.
“Where are we going anyway?” I asked as we walked out to the garage to take the truck.
“Getting you that steak you wanted,” he replied, referring to what I said I’d want to eat on our first date all those weeks ago.
“You remembered,” I murmured as he opened the passenger-side door and helped me inside.
He leaned in for a kiss. “I remember everything, Grace.”
Now it wasmysocks being knocked off.
It was a relatively short drive to the steak house, which Ruston had shared was one of the nicest restaurants in town. My stomach rumbled with hunger and then quickly dropped when I set eyes on the hostess.
Elise.
“Fuck,” Ruston grunted. “We’re leaving.”
I grabbed his forearm. “I let her run me out of one building already. It’s not happening again.”
He looked down at me, and I saw pride flash in his eyes. “All right, baby. Let’s get you your steak.”
When Elise looked up and saw us, her face paled. Clearly, Ruston had had words with her after her visit to the hospital.
“We’ll take our table,” he clipped, his hand wrapped around mine.
Her gaze shot from him to me and back again. “Of course,” she muttered, grabbing our menus and showing us to a table for two by the window. “Enjoy your meal.”
“I had no idea she worked here,” he explained as soon as she walked away and we were seated.
