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I grin at the way she says my name, liking how soft she makes it sound. “Yeah.”
“Hi, this is Savannah… from last night…”
Chuckling, my grin grows wider. As if I could forget her. “How you doing, princess? Hangover any better?”
“Yes. Much better. I wanted to thank you for last night.”
Waiting, wondering what else she’s going to say, my dull, blunt nails dig into the worn cotton sweatpants covering my thigh.
“Thank you for not making a big deal out of it or making me feel bad…” She’s quiet for a moment and then rushes on. “And for cleaning everything up. I’m really sorry you had to do that.”
“I clean up messes every day. What’s a little puke?” My fingers grind down harder into my leg. I didn’t mean to say that.
“Well, it’s a big deal to me. I was wondering if you’d be interested in having dinner with me tomorrow.”
For a moment, I forget to breathe. No woman has ever asked me to dinner before. “Is this a date?”
“Yes. Maybe…” A groan sounds on her end and the memory of the little noises she made while touching me comes back, flooding my mind and making my dick spring to life. “Why are you making things so hard?” she demands.
Palming myself through my sweatpants, I laugh. “You’re the one making things hard.”
She’s quiet, almost like she’s thinking that over, then she asks, “So is that a yes?”
“Princess, I’m flattered. I thought maybe you were just interested in me last night because you were drunk. You’re a good drunk. I didn’t know until you upchucked on my dishes.”
“Ugh, please don’t bring that up again.”
I can almost picture her scrunching up that cute nose, and those amazing blue eyes of hers narrowing as she glares. Releasing my dick, I scrub my hand along my jaw, the scratch of my beard harsh against my skin. Been a few days since I shaved, I’ll have to make a point of doing it before we have dinner. “Okay, forgotten and forgiven. So, if this dinner is to make up for that, you don’t gotta do that.”
“Dinner is because you’re good looking, and nice, and… and I want to see you again.”
My fingers curl around the phone while happiness strums through me at those simple words. She wants to see me again.
Licking my lips, I sit up straighter, hating what I got to do but knowing I need to. “Listen, before this goes any further. I should tell you that I was in prison.”
Silence hums between us for a moment, and then she’s back. “Oh, well, guess it wasn’t anything too horrible like murder since you’re out.”
She’s just so fucking casual about it. I laugh and slump back against the couch. “No, it wasn’t murder. You’re safe. So, dinner?”
We work out the details and when she disconnects, it takes a long time before my grin fades.
***
Standing in front of the steakhouse, I fiddle with the cuffs of my green shirt. I don’t have many nice long-sleeved shirts, so I called my brother, and he loaned me this one. My arms must be longer than his because the cuffs keep riding up my wrists.
To keep myself from messing with the damn things, I pull out my phone and check the time. Fresh sweat breaks out on my neck and my eyes sweep along the parking lot. She’s five minutes late. We agreed to meet here because I wanted to give her an easy out in case she changes her mind about taking this thing between us any further.
I shove my phone in the front pocket of my pants and unbutton the annoying cuffs, rolling them up. To hell with it. Seems she changed her mind before she even got here.
Rolling my shoulders to work out the stiffness, I head back to my truck.
“Jake!”
At the sound of my name, I stop and jerk my head around, trying to see who yelled it.
Savannah darts from between the rows of parked vehicles, her long blonde curls streaming out behind her. She skids to a stop in front of me and I’m hit by a sense of déjà vu. She’s in pink again like the first time we met, though this time it’s a skimpy little dress that leaves her toned arms bare and shows off a good amount of cleavage.
Once again, she reminds me of a sweet cupcake.
