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Violet considered playing coy, pretending that she hadn’t been dying for this moment. Did she have her reservations? Yes, of course, but right now they were being browbeaten into submission by the cheerfully insane part of her that was only sure of one thing . . .
That she had fallen completely and irrevocably in love with Dean Sparks.
And she desperately wanted to push away all the worry and fear of the future and just be.
“Okay, I’d love to go on a date with you,” she said.
“Good, because we’ve got reservations in two hours.” He pushed away from the wall and took off down the stairs with her hand in his, her sore legs screaming in pain as she tried to catch up.
“You made a reservation? Wait, you planned this?” Realization dawned on her, and she burst out laughing. “How much did you give Casey to go along with your plan??
?
“Fifty bucks,” Dean said.
“Sounds about right. Was Daisy in on it, too?” They exited the stairwell and went out the building toward the parking lot.
“Yeah, but your sister wasn’t as cheap. She did pack you something extra to wear, though, so I consider it worth it.”
Violet could just imagine what her sister had picked out for her; probably something short, tight, and leather, knowing Violet would hate it on sight.
“So, the first order of business is to go to the hotel and change.” As he unlocked his truck, he released her hand and grinned at her over the hood. “I don’t know about you, but I could really use a shower.”
Violet pictured the two of them in the shower getting dirty as they cleaned up, and her heart kicked into a rapid tempo.
“Well, climb in, Vi. Time’s a-wasting.”
Violet started as he used her nickname—usually reserved for friends and family—for the first time, then climbed into his truck slowly, her body humming with joy.
AN HOUR AND twenty minutes later, Dean walked out of his hotel room with a smirk. Violet had been less than thrilled when he’d insisted on separate hotel rooms, but he’d planned this night out perfectly and wanted it to start with the feel of an actual date.
He went to the door next to his and knocked. They still had forty minutes until the reservation, but he didn’t want to get lost and miss it. Daisy had found an intimate little French restaurant that boasted a romantic atmosphere. And considering this was the first time he’d ever put so much effort into making a woman happy, he hoped Violet liked it. Otherwise he was going to feel like an idiot.
Dean knocked again, nervously impatient as he pulled on his suit jacket.
Finally, the door opened, and Violet stepped out.
Staring at her with his mouth hanging open, he took in the simple black heels that made her long, pale legs look incredible, especially when paired with a dress in deep, royal purple that hugged every curve and stopped midthigh. The strapless bodice showed off her smooth shoulders and arms, while that long mane of red hair was twisted up into a loose knot. Her eyelids were darkened with purple and gray, bringing out flecks of black and gold in her brown eyes he’d never noticed before.
And her mouth . . . good God. Her mouth was a lush, wet invitation to sample its sweetness.
“It’s too much, isn’t it?” she asked suddenly.
“What?”
“The whole thing. The makeup, the dress. I overdid it.”
Dean shook his head. “No. Not. At. All.”
Violet’s face brightened, and the wariness and uncertainty that had been written all over it melted away.
“Really?”
“Yeah.”
Dean held out his hand to Violet, and the two of them headed down the hotel hallway. He helped her into the elevator, and as they traveled down alone, he had to fight the urge to push her back into the wall and slide his hand up that tight, short skirt.
They exited the elevator and crossed the lobby. Dean noticed a few men follow Violet with their eyes until they caught Dean’s gaze and quickly looked away.
