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“Should I wait?” I look around the small landing in front of her door.
I happen to know the apartment inside is a studio with a small bathroom. No privacy there.
“Why don’t you go ahead, and I’ll meet you in ten minutes. It’s close enough to walk.”
I look down the stairs, thinking I don’t want her to walk alone or enter the restaurant alone. “Text me when you’re ready, and I can meet you halfway.”
Her nose wrinkles like she’s thinking of a humorous comeback. Instead, she simply says, “It’s okay. I’ve been walking around Eureka a long time.”
“I’ll walk slow.”
“See you in ten.” She shakes her head and turns to go back into her apartment.
Just before she closes the door, I catch another glimpse of her cute little ass, and my fingers curl. Yep, I’m officially that guy. I want to claim every part of her body.
Clearing my throat, I descend the stairs slowly, thinking about being her boss, being seven years older than her, being the asshole who just bit her head off for being sweet to my son. It’s enough to get my thinking straight.
Olive branch.
Nothing more.
El Rio is a typical Mexican restaurant with polished wood tables in the center of the dining room and round, vinyl booths arranged around the walls. The colors are vibrant and festive, key lime, lemon yellow, orange, and red.
Spanish-language music is playing, and the crowd is small for a Monday—a few guys hanging at the bar watching basketball and a few people eating. The hostess said we could seat ourselves once Britt arrived, and I’ve been standing at the bar long enough to have a beer when I glance up to see her in the doorway.
She’s dressed in blue jeans and that same white tank top, only with a bra this time, and her hair is down, hanging long around her shoulders. Her green eyes meet mine, and when she smiles, for a second, my brain kind of blanks.
Of course, I get it under control by the time she closes the space between us.
“I hope I didn’t take too long. I just threw on the first thing I could find.” Her face is so fresh with just a touch of something glossy on her full, pink lips.
“You were perfect.” My reply makes her brow furrow, and I rephrase quickly. “I mean, your timing was perfect, and you look great.”
Holding out my hand, I gesture to the room. “We can seat ourselves when we’re ready. Would you like a beer? Or a margarita?”
“Oh…” Her eyes light, and she presses her lips in a mischievous grin. “Would it be bad to have a margarita on a Monday?
“Nope. It’s Margarita Monday.” I turn to the bartender and order her drink and another beer for me.
While we wait, I turn to her again, ready to face the music. “So I kind of overreacted this afternoon.”
“Did you? I must’ve missed it. What happened?”
Exhaling a chuckle, I drop my chin. “I was a dick, and I’m sorry. If it makes you feel any better, Owen was very disappointed in me. He suggested I head over right away and apologize.”
Her smile turns sassy. “You added the changing clothes and inviting me to dinner parts all by yourself?”
Damn, her mouth. “It seemed like more of the adult approach.”
“I see. Well, Owen is a sweet boy. Where is he anyway?”
“Having dinner with my mom, which made him very happy. Apparently, she serves chocolate cake with dinner.”
“My kind of place!” She laughs, lightening the entire mood.
My arm is propped on the bar, so close I could extend a finger and trace it along her skin.
I don’t.
