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“You’re stunning.”
The skin of her face reddens, trailing her eyes to another point of the room.
“Thanks,” she mutters. Still holding her hand, I hand her the rose. “You remembered.”
As if I could forget anything that she tells me.
“Of course.”
“Can we go now?” Bree asks.
I chuckle as I nod.
Saying goodbye to Ash, she puts the rose on the kitchen island and intertwines her arm with mine, walking by my side. Bree rolls her eyes when we get to the parking lot and notices that I borrowed Ryder’s car. Again.
“Ryder?” she guesses the owner of the black BMW.
I tilt my head.
“Yup.”
I open the passenger’s door for her, hearing her mumble about how I’m always a gentleman. I do my best to suppress the urge to tell her that tonight I plan to be everything but that. The last thing that I need is to add more fire to our tension.
At least not so soon.
Walking around the car, I hop on the driver’s seat and turn the car on. Bree stops me before I get to take the emergency brake off, putting one hand above mine. The other travels to my neck, pulling me so that our mouths collide in a kiss.
Heat invaded me as her warm and soft mouth moves over mine, her teeth grazing my bottom lip, threatening to bite it, and her naughty tongue tempts me. The kiss grows more passionate when my tongue meets hers. A throaty groan escapes from me, drowning in her lips.
It takes everything for me to break the kiss. She whimpers when I pull away.
“I’ve wanted to put my mouth on you all week,” I confess.
“Me too.”
“But I don’t want to miss our reservations,” I conclude, caressing her cheek with my thumb.
“You’re your own cockblock, you know?” Bree scoffs.
I let a raspy laugh out at her frustration.
“Bree, the whole purpose of going on a date is to go out,” I remind her, caressing her cheek with my thumb. “Plus, I made a reservation.”
Her forehead frowns, squinting suspiciously.
“Where are we going?” Her question carries a ton of curiosity.
Clearing my throat, I avoid her gaze.
It’s supposed to be a surprise. My battle with arriving on time is that I asked Ryder to pull some strings to get a good table. It’s probable that this dinner will make a hole in my pocket, and that I had to use my savings, but it’s worth it. I want to do something nice for her. I want to be the guy that’s right for her.
“To a restaurant.”
“You don’t say, Sherlock. I meant what’s the name.”
I bite the inside of my cheek.
“Red Veil,” I grumble.
