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Is that really such a good idea?
The thought formed quickly in her head, making her frown.
Ryan misread her once again. He said, “I promise you won’t get hurt. I’ll be careful with you.”
She laughed, hoping to put his mind at ease. “That’s not at all what I was thinking. You were very gentle with my arm.”
Recalling how it’d felt to have his big hands on her body sent a shot of exhilaration through her. He incited a riot of sensations she’d given up on ever experiencing. Being so close to him ignited a searing, throbbing feeling deep in her pussy. He made her feel safe, with his hunky body and tender touch, but also sexy as he gazed down at her with an appreciative look.
When they reached Pietro’s, Ryan stopped short of the door and propped his shoulder against the brick wall. Ginger reluctantly released his arm.
He continued to stare at her, a flicker of heat in his eyes. He said, “I’d really like to see you again. If you’re not currently involved, that is.”
Warning signals went off in her head, but Ginger conveniently ignored them. The excitement coursing through her was much too pleasant and certainly too powerful to brush off.
“What did you have in mind?” she asked in a breathy voice.
“I’ve got some business to take care of this weekend, but how about dinner on Sunday night?”
She groaned. “The Holy Day? Not a chance in hell.”
His jaw tightened briefly. “Stop thinking everyone will disapprove.”
“I don’t care about ‘everyone’. Your relatives are my biggest concern.”
“We’re adults, Ginger. And, quite frankly, I don’t give a damn what anyone says if they see us together. I get to decide who I date. So…just say yes.”
Laughing softly, she said, “You’re very persuasive, Rhett Butler.”
“Six o’clock?”
She nodded. “That’d be perfect.”
“Where should I pick you up?”
“The store. I’ll be working.”
The corners of his tempting mouth turned downward. “You work seven days a week?”
“Yes. But I’m only open from ten to six, unless there’s something going on downtown that might draw in customers.”
Though her patronage had picked up, she still couldn’t justify or afford part-time help. Not yet anyway. With her sales from her website supplementing her income, she hoped to hire someone in a few months, and then she’d open a bit earlier and hopefully find some way to draw in more of a crowd.
“All work and no play,” Ryan mused.
“That’s the price of fulfilling a dream.”
He nodded and said, “Gotcha.” His free hand grazed her arm as he added, “At least your evenings are free.”
Ginger’s stomach flipped. “Indeed they are.”
“Then I’ll see you on Sunday.” He winked at her again before sauntering off toward the sheriff’s office.
She watched him go, admiring the view. Her buzzing cell phone, however, reminded her she was late. It was likely Liza calling. Ginger didn’t bother answering since she’d arrived at the restaurant.
Despite the low points of the evening, there was a smile on her face—thanks to Ryan—as she pulled open the door to Pietro’s. She strolled over to the hostess stand manned by Ruby Jones, a vivacious, full-figured redhead who owned the place with her husband, Mike. The town joke was that there was no Italian chef named Pietro in Wilder. Regardless, the food was astounding. As Ginger approached the podium, she inhaled the delicious scent of spicy Italian sausage and peppers in a zesty sauce.
“Pasta Bolognese?” she guessed as she mentally crossed her fingers.
