I swear on everything holy, if she told me to fall to my knees right now and stay there—look up at her, wait for her, anything—I’d do it.Gladly. All she needs to do is exist, and I’d trade a piece of myself just to be the reason that smile remains on her face.
“Careful, baby. You keep teasing and I’ll forget we have dinner reservations.”
She steps in close and presses a kiss to my jaw. “Dinner first. Then you can ruin me.”
I groan, dragging a hand down my face before finishing the last button on my shirt. If she keeps talking like that, we’re never making it out the door.
But we do—barely.
The restaurant is one of those upscale places downtown with dim lighting and wine lists longer than most novels. The host leads us to a corner table, slightly secluded from the rest of the dining room.
“This is beautiful,” Violet says, looking around with wide eyes as she settles into her chair.
The waiter appears with menus and a wine list, his demeanor polished and professional. We order drinks, and as he walks away, Violet leans forward, her expression softening.
“Thank you for this,” she says quietly.
“You don’t have to thank me for wanting to spoil you,” I say, squeezing her hand.
Her cheeks flush, that soft pink that always gives her away.
The waiter returns with our wine, pouring a sample in my glass. I taste it and nod, watching as he fills both our glasses before disappearing again.
“To us,” I say, lifting my glass.
She smiles, clinking hers to mine. “To us.”
We order dinner and conversation flows easily between us. I watch her face light up as she talks about her work, the way her hands animate her stories, how her entire body seems to lean into the telling. How deeply she cares is one of the things I love most about her.
“And then there was this cat,” she continues, taking a sip of her wine. “Absolute nightmare. Hissed at everyone except me. Even Dr. Langford couldn’t get near him without those leather falconry gloves.”
“But he let you touch him?” I ask, already knowing the answer. Animals have always responded well to Violet.
She nods, a hint of pride in her smile. “I just sat with him for a while, talked to him softly. By the end of it, he was purring in my lap.”
“You’ve always had that talent. Seeing the good in things most people are afraid of.”
“Not talent,” she says, shaking her head. “Just patience.” She takes another sip of her drink, her eyes meeting mine over the rim of her glass. “What about you? Any interesting security details lately?”
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I slip my hand down to silence it without looking. “Nothing special.”
The waiter arrives with our entrees. Steak for me, some fancy pasta dish for her that smells like heaven. As we eat, I can’t help but watch her, memorizing the way she tucks her hair behind her ear, the slight furrow between her brows when she concentrates on cutting her food.
“What?” she asks, catching me staring.
I shake my head. “Just thinking about how lucky I am.”
Her cheeks flush that perfect shade of pink again. “You’re looking at me like you want to devour me.”
“Duh. Of course I do.”
“Do you, now?” she asks, her voice dropping to that low, teasing lilt that never fails to send my blood rushing south.
“Absolutely.” I reach across the table, brushing my thumb across her bottom lip. “But I’m trying to be a gentleman right now.”
She catches my hand, pressing a kiss to my palm. “What if I don’t want you to be a gentleman?”
My phone buzzes again, persistent and unwelcome. I ignore it for a second time.
