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I lifted my hand and knocked on her front door, listening intently as her footsteps neared, then it swung open, revealing her to me.
Now to most people, the dress and denim jacket she was wearing was casual, but to me, it was out of this world, but only because it was covering the curves I knew were underneath it. The lilac material clung to her waist, then flared out, stopping just below her knees.
“Hey,” I murmured, my voice gruff.
“Hey,” she responded, stepping outside with her purse on her shoulder.
I witnessed her throat bob as she swallowed, all of my attention zoned in on her as we walked side by side down to my car. I was observing her, taking stock of every little move she did: pushing her hair behind her ear, the shake of her hands, the small smile she had displayed on her face. But most of all, the way her gaze would veer to me, then away, then back again, almost as if she couldn’t help herself.
My own lips lifted as I stared directly at her, then halted at my car. I wanted to say something but…I didn’t know what, so I just opened the passenger door for her and waited for her to get inside. Her cheeks pinked as she slowly maneuvered inside my vehicle, and damn, I couldn’t help but be obsessed with the way she moved.
Stop staring.Fuck, yeah, okay. I cleared my throat, closed her door, then sauntered around the front of my car, feeling her gaze burning against my skin. There was tension, so much that I felt like I was in the middle of a scorching building, sure to set alight any second.
The roaring of my engine was the only sound as I pulled away from her house, and for ten minutes, neither of us spoke. It wasn’t awkward, but instead more of a comfortable silence; a silence that held promises. And I was okay with that. I wanted to be around people who didn’t want to make me talk, who didn’t need conversation to make them feel comfortable, even though I knew I could get like that sometimes.
I relaxed back in my seat as I took the freeway, knowing we wouldn’t be on it for long.
She sighed, causing me to quickly glance at her, but her eyes were closed, a small smile playing on her lips.
Was she content? Because she sure as hell looked like it.
My gaze dipped to her lap, my fingers itching with the need to reach over and rest my palm on her thigh. I could almost feel the soft material of her dress against my fingertips. She looked so damn beautiful in that moment. I wished I could have stared at her like that all day, but I couldn’t, so I turned my attention back on the road.
We pulled up outside of the place fifteen minutes later, right in the middle of our territory. I pushed out of the car and rushed around to her side to help her out, then took her hand in mine. I’d overthought touching her the entire way here, but now I was done with hesitating. I was taking what I wanted, not giving a damn about what it would mean later. We didn’t intertwine fingers, but it was enough to let her know she was herewithme.
There was a line forming outside, but I bypassed it, walked inside, and was immediately greeted by the manager.
“Mr. Pagani.” He shook my hand, bowing a little as if I was King. “It’s a pleasure to have you dining with us today.” He let go of my hand, his gaze turning to Peyton, but I sidestepped in front of her, blocking her from his view.
I knew exactly who this man was and what he did to the women he liked the look of, and there was no way in hell that I was going to allow him to get a look at Peyton. Fuck, it was about time I used my influence and put an end to this slimeball. He hadn’t bothered me before, nothing landing at my feet, but now I was standing feet away from him with a woman I cared about next to me, I realized that I couldn’t let him get away with what he’d been doing. They may have only been rumors right now, but I’d find out for sure, and if there was an ounce of truth to any of them, he’d be gone, with a warning…a physical one.
Peyton cleared her throat, her fingers wiggling in my hold, and I realized that I’d been gripping her a little too hard, so I made a mental note to deal with him at a later date and concentrate on what I was here for: Peyton.
“Your table will be ready shortly.”
I grunted in response, watching as he walked away. My eyes narrowed on him, my body tense as I watched him talk to one of the servers. She looked so damn uncomfortable with how close he was standing.
“Is this a date?” Peyton blurted out.
Blinking, I turned to face her, trying not to show my shock and loving how her cheeks were turning red, her gaze was bouncing across the room. “Peyton.” She either didn’t hear me, or was too inside her own head. So I reached up, grasping her chin between my finger and thumb, turning her so that she was looking right at me. “It’s whatever you want it to be.” I paused, letting that sink in. “Now, if you’re asking whether Iwantit to be a date, then the answer is yes.” I let that sink in, then leaned closer, pressing my lips to her cheek as I whispered, “Ball is in your court, mama.”
I breathed deep, loving the way her flowery scent wrapped around me. I swore I could smell it everywhere I went for days after the bathroom incident. Fuck, I couldn’t think about that, not here, not while I was this close to her.
“I…” She cleared her throat as I backed away, watching her intently. She opened her mouth again, but we were cut off by a server who came to get us and take us to the back corner of the restaurant. I hadn’t only booked us a table, I’d booked us ten tables so that we wouldn’t be surrounded by a single person.
It may have been lunchtime, but this restaurant had a waiting list of five months minimum for lunch and dinner service.
Not for me though. My name was worth more than money could buy. And for once, I’d used it.
I pulled Peyton’s chair out for her, making sure she was seated before going around the opposite side and sitting down too. The server took our drink orders—water for both of us, there was no way I was drinking alcohol right then, not when I wanted to soak up every second of being with her alone like this for the first time.
The server walked away and I focused my attention back on Peyton just as she announced, “If we’re going to do this”—she waved her hand between the two of us—“whatever this is, then we’re honest with each other.”
I pulled in a breath, not liking where this was going. I wanted her to be honest with me, I wanted her to tell me everything she’d been through, what she was feeling…everything. But I wasn’t sure I could do the same. I wasn’t sure I could tell her when I’d be on a job for Lorenzo. There would always be things that I couldn’t tell her.
I opened my mouth, about to attempt to explain that, but she beat me to it.
“Before you say anything.” She leaned forward, placing her palms on the table as if to brace herself. “I know who you are.” She paused, her light-brown eyes staring me down, not an iota of wavering inside them. “I’ve known who you are since the first day we met.”
