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Dessert—a shared slice of cheesecake with a fresh raspberry compote—is placed before us, along with two cappuccinos. Stacia spoons off a small bite and wiggles in her seat. “Fuck! That is to die for.”
“Glad you approve.”
“Question, though.” She licks a drop of sauce from her spoon. “As amazing as this place is, why did we go so far out of town for dinner?”
I wink and set my card on the edge of the table for the server. “You’ll see.”
After the bill is settled, we head back to the car and I open her door first, like the gentleman I am. Once she is seated, I lean against the open door, unlooping my tie and tugging it off. “Wh-what are you doing?” she asks, looking up at me with wide eyes.
“You’ll see,” I say again. “Just not yet.” Before she can protest, I bend down into her space and secure my tie around her eyes, effectively blindfolding her.
“West Larson!”
Cupping the back of her head, I feather a kiss to her forehead. “You trust me, beautiful?” She nods as I trail my knuckles over her shimmering cheekbone. “Good. We’ll be there shortly.”
I rush behind the wheel, start the ignition, and head off toward our final destination, hoping she loves it as much as I think she will, especially seeing as I paid a shit-ton to go after-hours.
Fifteen minutes later, we arrive. A tremor of nerves works its way through me. While I’m ninety-nine-point-nine percent positive this will be a home run, there’s still that small, tenth-of-a-percent chance she’ll hate it.
“Are we here?” she asks, reaching for her blindfold.
Reaching out, I intercept her hand, holding it in mine. Fuck, her skin is soft. So soft. “Hang on.”
I come around and help her out and up. She sniffs the air, and I grin. “Any ideas?” I ask.
“Smells like motor oil, gas, and burned rubber.”
Is it weird that her knowing that kind of turns me on? Probably so, seeing as before her I didn’t know shit about cars. Hell, I still don’t. I picked out my Mercedes AMG GT-R because it looked sick, went fast, and I knew my parents would hate it.
I crowd her from behind, wrapping her in my arms with my hands resting low on her stomach. The position is intimate, and before I can stop it, I’m envisioning us just like this, only in my mind, she looks as if she’s swallowed a basketball. Shit.
Skimming my nose up her neck and my hands up her sides, I gently tug on the tail of my tie, letting the blindfold fall away. “Surprise,” I whisper before pressing a kiss to that sexy-as-hell space where her neck and shoulder meet.
Stacia freezes. “West.” My name a prayer on her luscious red lips.
“Yeah?”
“Is this for real?”
“As real as you and me.”
“There is no you and me,” she whispers, and while the words send a little zip of sadness through me, I know what she means.
Without thinking about it too much, I say the first thing that comes to mind. “But there could be.” She whirls to face me, her eyes wide and lips parted. Not wanting my weird sentimentality to ruin her night, I add, “Now, let’s go drive some fast cars!”
I start off without her, leaving her slightly stunned. “C’mon, Stacia! Don’t you know if you’re not first, you’re last?”
At that, she hurries after me. “Lord baby Jesus in a ghost manger, I love that movie!”
A stupid smile splits my cheeks, because I just knew she’d get the reference.
As we enter the building separating the parking lot from the track, a thought suddenly strikes me. “Are you gonna be able to drive in those?” I glance down to her heels that would look so good digging into my back or wrapped around my shoulders.
Her eyes lower as well, and she blinks twice before looking back my way. “Yup. Not a problem.”
The gentleman working behind the counter comes out. “You sure?” he asks, reaffirming my concerns.
Stacia scoffs. “One-thousand percent. I’ve been driving in heels since before I could even legally drive.”
We both look at her with our brows lifted.
She rolls her eyes. “Give me the paperwork I need to sign, and I’ll prove it.”
“Now hold on,” the employee says. “I don’t know if this—”
“It’s fine…” I glance down to his name tag. “…Jed. I personally will cover any incidentals if something goes awry.”
“I need to call the owner.”
I gesture for him to go ahead and pull Stacia to the side. “Don’t make me put my money where my mouth is.”
She grins wickedly. “I can think of much better places for your mouth to be.”
Fuuuuuck. I’m about to tell her, in great detail, all of the places I’d like to put it, but Jed returns. “I don’t like it, but the owner gave the all-clear. Paperwork’s on the counter.”
