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Smiling, he leaned in to kiss her cheek. He lingered there for a moment, giving a hum that she felt through her entire body. “You look absolutely beautiful,” he said for her ears only.
She blushed a little, conscious of Lottie hovering behind them. She could feel her grandmother’s avid gaze on her back. A little self-conscious, she gestured to the flowers. “Are those for me?”
“No.” He grinned over her shoulder at Lottie. “They’re for you.”
“Me?” Her grandma flushed a delighted shade of pink, her eyes lit with surprise. For a second Rachel could see how Lottie must have looked as a young woman. She could have kissed Jamie just for that.
Heck—she didn’t need an excuse to kiss Jamie.
Apparently neither did Lottie. Clutching her roses, she placed a kiss on Jamie’s cheek. “Aren’t you the smart one?”
“My grandmother taught me a thing or two.” Winking at Lottie, he turned to Rachel, putting a hand on her lower back. “Ready?”
“Yes,” she said, hoping she really was, because she knew he was asking if she was ready for more than just dinner. She felt a sudden flare of nerves flutter in her stomach, so she turned to Lottie.
Her grandma winked at her. “I won’t wait up for you.”
She moaned. “Jeez, Grandmother.”
Jamie chuckled softly as he escorted her out of the house and on to this adventure.
Twelve
Jamie handed Rachel into the car he’d hired for them, feeling that peculiar jangle of nerves again. Tonight was important, likely more important than he knew yet.
He slid in after her, watching her arrange her skirt to cover her legs properly. He smiled, liking that she was doing it even while he wanted to slide his hand up her thigh to bare it again.
She gestured to the privacy screen dividing the driver from them. “I take it there’s someone up front?”
“The car isn’t driving itself.” He turned to her and cupped her face in his hand. “If you’re asking if he can hear or see us, the answer is no.”
Blinking at him guilelessly, she swallowed. “Should I be worried about my virtues?”
“Your virtues are safe with me.” Because he couldn’t help himself, he kissed her, a soft caress against her luscious lips. “I care about you.”
“What are you saying?” she asked slowly. “Because I have a feeling I want to understand your meaning exactly.”
He traced her cheek. “I realized as I picked you up that I was nervous about going out with you. The only time I’ve ever been nervous in my life has been before a big game.”
She laid her hand over his. “I matter,” she said simply.
“Yes.” He stared into her eyes. “Would you think it’s mad if I told you that I think it’s love?”
“Well, this entire thing is mad.” Grinning ruefully, she gestured to them and the car. “It kind of makes sense that love would be thrown in, doesn’t it?” She sobered. “But what happens when you go home?”
“I haven’t had a home, love, not since I lived with my parents.”
“And when you go back to soccer?” she persisted.
“I’m not going back to football.” He took her hand and gazed at her steadily as a series of expressions fluttered across her face.
The one that settled at the end was cautious hope. She lowered her eyes to their joined hands. “How can I believe any of this? Guys like you only exist in the movies.”
“Rachel, I’m all in,” he said with quiet surety.
She lifted her gaze and searched his. Then she nodded. “If I weren’t all in, I wouldn’t be wearing my fancy panties.”
He blinked, his mind going blank at everything except the thought of Rachel in fancy knickers. He glanced at the bodice of her dress. It was strapless, baring her beautifully elegant shoulders, so maybe she wasn’t wearing anything else underneath.
