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He looked like he was holding back his laughter. It was no use, I decided. Frankie and Kresley would lock me out of this place to get me to go, and honestly, I was so glad to see Denton again that I didn’t want to resist.
“Lunch sounds really good,” I finally said. “Let me grab my purse and my jacket.”
“You look beautiful today,” Denton said as we hit the sidewalk and the shop door drifted closed behind us. “Are you sure you have the time? I don’t want to interrupt your day. I know you’re busy.”
His hand lightly settled at the small of my back as we walked side by side, his touch distracting me for a moment. “It’s honestly fine. Things won’t get busy until later in the afternoon, so they really do have everything under control while I duck out for a little while.” I paused for a second. “And thank you. For the compliment.”
He flashed me a lopsided smile. “It’s not a compliment, it’s an observation. You’re more beautiful every time I see you.”
We settled on a little restaurant a few doors down from my store, the kind of deceptively humble place that only locals knew about and served delicious diner-style food. Denton opened the glass door for me and pulled my chair out when we were seated—chivalrous gestures, but he offered them without any performative self-consciousness. As though being a gentleman came as naturally as breathing and without any expectation of over-the-top praise from me.
His gestures were comfortable and genuine. During my relationship with Lucas—which lastedwaytoo long—he used to give me the cold shoulder all evening if I failed to thank him profusely for opening my car door or some other token courtesy. It was annoying, and the longer we stayed together, the worse his shitty attitude got, until I was exhausted with all of it.
Denton’s self-assuredness and good manners were second nature to him, and he clearly didn’t need that kind of flattery.
I liked it. A lot.
“I’ll be honest,” he said once we’d placed our orders and our server delivered our drinks. “Your dad wanted me to check in with you while I’m here, and make sure you’re doing okay. Not like a babysitter—he just misses you and I told him I would drop by the store now and then.”
I cocked my head and looked at him as I toyed with my napkin-wrapped silverware. “Is that the only reason you came by today?” I dared to ask.
He laughed and shook his head. “No. Of course not. You’ve been on my mind nonstop since last weekend, but I didn’t want to come on too strong, since this whole thing is—”
“Pretty weird,” I supplied.
“Not weird,” he said, as he reached out and took my hand in his on top of the table, for anyone to see, despite our noticeable age difference. “A big surprise, sure. But I don’t regret it, do you?”
His fingers were warm and gentle against mine, the skin just a little bit rough, like he lifted weights or did something outside all the time with his hands. I shivered as I remembered the way they’d brushed against my body, and while I wanted to insist that night was a mistake because of his partnership with my father, I looked into Denton’s sincere eyes and found that I couldn’t.
“No,” I said simply. “I don’t regret anything.”
He looked relieved with my agreement. “And I’d be lying if I said I didn’t want to do it again,” he added, his voice lowering to a husky almost-whisper. “My dick has been hard as a rock since the second I walked into the store and saw you.”
“Shush,” I admonished him with a giggle, his strong fingers still gripped in my much smaller ones. “We’re in public.”
“Admit it,” he breathed, a small measure of desperation to his voice. “You want me too.”
“Not right now, okay?” I looked around, willing away the warm blush he’d put on my cheeks. “Let’s just have lunch.”
He pulled my hand to his lips and brushed a light, warm kiss against my knuckles. The simple touch rocketed through my nervous system like lightning, and moisture trickled into my panties as I fought to control my breathing.
“Sure. But I’m here if you change your mind.” He winked at me.
Just as he’d promised he would, Denton backed off for the rest of our lunch, and we spent our meal getting to know each other. Everything about our conversation was easy and enjoyable. I learned that Denton had a law degree from Yale and a practically endless appetite for new adventures and ideas. And he listened attentively as I told him about moving to Seattle with just a shitty boyfriend and how I fought so hard to open my own store.
Our connection, even beyond the sexual chemistry, was undeniable. He was brilliant and kind and cultivated. A good listener and an even better thinker—the kind of man I had always hoped to meet.
After lunch, he escorted me back to my store. We walked just a few inches apart, not holding hands, but I felt the electrical sparks jump between us all the same.
“Here we are,” I said as we reached my storefront, turning to face him with a smile. “Time to get back to work.”
Without a word, Denton leaned down and tentatively touched his mouth to mine, surprising me with the bold move. His tongue stroked softly against my lips, once, twice. Unable to deny myself this pleasure, I granted him entrance. He groaned as he looped an arm around my waist and pulled me in closer, bringing our bodies flush as he deepened the connection.
Too soon, he broke the kiss with a shaky breath, then moved in to brush his lips gently against mine again. “Will you call or text me later?” he whispered.
“Denton,” I started, hearing the hesitation in my own voice. “What about my dad?”
“What about him?” A frown pulled at Denton’s brows. “You’re a grown woman, Marcie. What feels right toyou?”
