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“How do you expect to communicate with anyone?”
“There’s this new fandangled thing called texting, Mack. It means I do not have to speak to anyone, pretty much ever. Magic.”
“You are such a grump sometimes,” he said with a chuckle and tucked me under his arm. Most of the time when someone called me a grump, or a bitch, or anything else, it went along with: You’ll never find a husband with that attitude. You’d be pretty if you smiled. Blah, blah, blah. But, when Mack said it, it didn’t feel like something that needed changing. It was just another thing about me—brown eyes, black hair, grumpy disposition. It was just me, and he accepted it. A girl could get drunk on that kind of unconditional acceptance.
“So, what are we doing?” I asked as we made it out onto the street. The snow had finally stopped and, although the air was still icy, I was happy to walk, our footsteps softly crunching across the white sidewalk. This was the point when the snow was still magic, before it turned to gray sludge piled up in the gutters, or ice that threatened to make you lose your footing and break something.
“Well, the weather meant I had to make some last minute changes, but I think the vibe is still there.” Well, that told me absolutely nothing. It was like he was intent on keeping me firmly in the dark.
“The vibe?”
“The vibe,” he confirmed, still telling me nothing.
“And what exactly is ‘the vibe’?”
He grinned down at me. “You’ll just have to wait and see.”
“You are enjoying this way too much. I’m going to make you wear a blindfold.”
“Excuse me?” His eyebrows disappeared under his beanie.
“When we go on my date. You will be wearing a blindfold and I will tell you nothing.Nothing.”
“Rude.”
“Necessary. It’ll teach you a lesson for all this secrecy.”
“Ah, but you’re so damn hot when you’re pissed at me.”
I elbowed him in the ribs, but he just laughed and kissed the top of my head. I wanted to be genuinely pissed at him, but I wasn’t, not really. I actually liked that he was keeping so much a secret to surprise me, but I would never admit it. I didn’t need to, he probably already knew.
“Maybe we can use the blindfold elsewhere…” The low rumble of his voice had me stumbling a step as a picture of him tied to a bed with half his face hidden behind a blindfold popped into my head. Fuck, I did not need that particular visual when I was going to have to keep my hands to myself.
I swallowed against my dry throat and it was a good thing Mack was all but holding me up because my knees had lost all their strength. “Oh really?” I squeaked, then cleared my throat.
“You’re getting ideas too, right? I’ll tell you mine.” It was a low, seductive whisper that tickled all the way down my spine and curled my toes, even as I walked (or attempted to).
“Nope. No, I don’t–I’m not having ideas. No ideas here.”
“Liar.”
I shoved him. “You were the one that insisted on the five date rule.”
“Oh, the five date rule stands. But there is so much that we can do before then.” Was he trying to drive me out of my goddamn mind? Was he trying to kill me? He was lucky I hadn’t turned into a puddle of lust at his feet.
“You okay there? You look a little pink.”
“Fine, I’m fine.”
“Uh-huh.” I ignored the teasing edge to his voice and focused on putting one foot in front of the other, and not dragging him into the closest semi-secluded spot.
We turned onto Jackson and I stopped short, pulling him to a halt with me. “You are not taking me to your apartment.” Not after all thatthere is so much we can do before date five business. I needed to be somewhere public. Somewhere I wouldn’t be tempted to rip his clothes clean off. I mean, I’d still be tempted—I was tempted right now—but I didn’t want him naked in front of half of Brooklyn. Just me. And now I was thinking about him naked. Fuck.
“I told you, there was a change of plans.”
“Yes, right.” I nodded, willing the warmth in my cheeks to subside. “And where would we have been if it hadn’t dumped eight inches overnight?” He scratched his ear. “We were still going to be here weren’t we?!”
“No.”
