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Nick sits next to me, and his leg brushes against mine. The change in his mood when Damon thanked him makes me curious.
"How did you help him?"
Nick's brows frown, and the expression in his eyes transforms from open to wary. It startles me, and I wonder if I've said the wrong thing.
His jaw tenses before he parts his lips to speak. "I'm part owner of this place, along with twenty other businesses here in Boston and other parts of America. I've made millions investing in companies and business ideas that I believe have potential."
He spits out these facts with a monotonous voice. Given the heavy silence, I figure he's waiting for my response. Yet his eyes refuse to meet mine, and I find myself confused. Does he think those facts will change the way I see him?
"I prefer you look at me when you talk or ask me a question," I say, while raising my brows. His eyes travel towards mine. "Good, that's better." I take a deep breath before I continue. "Now listen. It's great you're that successful, but I don't care how much money you have in your bank account. It sounds like you earned that money through hard work and smart business decisions. For that, I only have respect."
My fingers caress his chiseled cheek for a moment.
"I'm here to get to know you. So tell me who Nick Brown is and don't give me that unimportant stuff." I smile, and he surprises me by placing his fingers beneath my chin and tilting my face up to meet his, our lips inches apart.
"Thank you," he whispers in reply.
"No problem, I meant it." My voice comes out in a low, breathy whisper, and my stomach clenches with anticipation. My eyes slip closed as I wait for his lips to meet mine.
Why isn't he kissing me?I open my eyes and find him observing me with a gaze of intrigue.
"You want to know the real Nick Brown?" he asks while letting go of my chin and leaning his back into the black cushions.
I nod in silent reply.
"Nick Brown is a simple guy who's interested in the stunning woman who sits beside him," he says with a tilted head and a smug smile—his confidence has returned.
"Oh, wait a minute." I giggle, grabbing the napkin that lies on the table next to my arm. I pretend to write something on the napkin before I talk out loud. "Trait one of Nick Brown; first-class smooth talker."
He throws his head back and laughs. Butterflies course through my body with the pleasant timbre of the sound.
God, his smirk is seductive, but his laugh is making my panties wet.
His eyes turn to ink when they meet my lustful gaze.
"Okay, a question for you. Do you like this smooth talker?"
"Hmm, that's a question for the end of this evening. When I've finished my trait list," I reply.
The energy between us warms as our eyes lock, and we both fail to acknowledge Damon standing by the table. He lets out a polite cough to get our attention, and slowly, we turn to him, finding him tugging at his shirt collar.
"Sorry to interrupt, but could I talk to you for a moment, Nick?"
Nick's brow furrows. "Sure. Excuse me for a sec, Emma."
Nick rises and walks a few feet away. I study them both as Damon talks. Whatever he's saying is having a profound impact on Nick. His entire body grows tense, his brows knit together, and when he returns next to me, his lips are a thin stripe.
"Is everything okay?"
"Yeah, nothing important," he says.
I try to ignore it and read the menu in my hand as a server comes over and writes up our order. We spend the time talking, and he doesn't mention his conversation with Damon, so I leave it.
"Hm." I close my eyes as the creamy flavor of my homemade Italian pasta hits my taste buds. "Oh... Nick, this food is delicious. The chef that works here is amazing."
"Yeah, I figured you were enjoying the food."
Heat rushes to my cheeks as I meet his grin.
