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"No matter whose fault it was, you did a very kind thing for me, and I want to pay you back. For real, this time. Something more than cookies."
"But Denise." Saliva pools in my mouth just thinking about them. "They weredamngoodcookies."
She smiles again, pleased with herself. "Thanks. But let me take you to dinner. I'm about to head back to my house to change and then go somewhere to have fun. My sister says I'm too wound up anyway. And I'm just so excited!" She hops on the balls of her feet. "I just want to keep the happiness train rolling."
"Of course, we can go to dinner," I chuckle as I take a step closer to her. "But you're not taking me. I'm taking you."
Her lips part in surprise. "Brett, you don't have to--."
But I cut her off.
"What time should I pick you up?"
She bites her bottom lip as if in thought. Then finally, she says, "Is 8 p.m. okay."
I grin. "Eight is perfect."
CHAPTER10
Brett
Ihead back to Bash's and search in the guest room closet for my nicest suit.
Luckily, Bash has already headed to the bar at this time of night, so there's no chance of running into him. I text him that I might be home late, and he sends back a hamburger emoji. Whatever that means.
As I wait for the car outside, I search my phone for the perfect restaurant and text Mar with the address.
I try to tell myself that this is not a date. It's a business dinner. A dinner where we'll talk about business. First, hers, as she recounts her meeting with Tinsley, and then… mine….
The familiar car pulls up, and I walk down the front steps of the building toward the sidewalk. As I open the door to the car, I'm surprised to see Denise already seated in the backseat.
She looks good enough to fucking eat.
Her dress is dark, the dark blue of the deep ocean, and though a wide belt hugs the fabric to her waist, the skirt flows in gentle waves down to her knees. The neckline is low, held together by two knots on her upper arms.
Like the first night I saw her, I'm mesmerized by her figure. Curvy, feminine. Mature. A magnet for my eyes.
Instantly, my skin grows hot. Denise turns to me and smiles.
"Hey, Brett," she says shyly.
“Hey, gorgeous." I press my lips to her hair. “You look amazing.”
She smiles and blushes a little. But this time, she accepts that I'm telling the truth. "Thank you."
My body surges with desire, and I look out the window, struggling to catch my breath. To cool myself off.
I want her.Badly.
She's sexy. She's funny. She's smart. She's everything a guy like me could dream of.
Fuck being friends. Thisisa date.
Ten minutes later, we arrive at the restaurant. Slipping out of the car, I dash to her side, where her door opens. I reach out a hand to help her, and she bats it away.
"I can get myself out of the car," she insists. But her mouth twitches, and I can tell she's trying to hide a smile.
Once inside, I tell the hostess my name, and she opens her notebook, running her finger through her list. Denise's eyes sparkle as she looks around the restaurant, and I follow her gaze. I've become so accustomed to places like this that I hardly take the time to notice them anymore.
