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“Do you visit New York often?”
We settle into a comfortability as we head out of the bakery and shoot across toward the Mexican place on the opposite side of the street.
“Once a month,” I tell her.
“Crap. So, we need to squeeze them in this Sunday, huh?”
The wedding is in two months. There won’t be enough time to book after the tasting if we wait until next month.
“Probably,” I say. “And I’ll probably have only an hour because I’m visiting my aunt for tea.”
I open the door for the restaurant. My hand settles at the small of her back on the satin cream-colored shirt she’s wearing and savor the feel of her company—of dinner out, with someone that’s not involved in work, or one of my siblings.
The tables are packed for happy hour, so we opt to sit at the bar.
“Okay.” Her lips form a thin line when she settles into the stool beside me. “What if I call around and have it delivered to you? Will you have a hotel?”
I shake my head. “It’s just a day trip. But I could book a room for an hour?” I pause, then smirk, a wonderful idea forming in my head. “Why don’t you come, too?”
She laughs. “I meant it, Declan. Strictly business.”
That’s not a no.So, I push her more. “I just think it’ll be easier. You can take the notes while I taste. I’m going to be exhausted from the flight, business meetings, and then tea with my aunt. It’ll be easier if you just come along. Plus, if we find a bakery, you’ll be there to hash out the details and book it at the last minute.”
She chews on her bottom lip. “I’m afraid of airports,” she finally blurts.
“What?” I cover my mouth to hide an amused grin.
She raises her hands in defense. “They stress me out, okay? The rush to make it to your gate in time. How long will TSA take to pat you down? What if I’m randomly selected and pulled aside? What if the flight is delayed and I have to take a bird bath shower in the bathroom sink? Will the person sitting next to me smell like onions? Will they get sick on the plane and cover me in vomit?”
We order our drinks and an appetizer, and I burst into laughter. I’ve never had to deal with those things as an adult. We arrange for a private flight and bypass the dramatics. If there’s a weather delay, the pilot texts us before we even leave our house.
“You can take the jet with me,” I offer, taking a sip of the whiskey when the bartender plops the drink in front of me. “I’ve got to pay for it either way. You can spend the day shopping or working, or whatever. Then we can meet for the cake tasting around four.”
“No.” Her head shakes furiously. “I couldn’t impose.”
“It’s not imposing. It’ll save you the stress and money. There’s plenty of room on the plane. Don’t make it a big deal, Sammy.”
My tongue darts out, licking my lips as I watch her take a sip of the margarita she ordered. Even the way she takes a sip somehow makes me want to undress her. The way she closes her eyes and lets out a soft moan of satisfaction, The way her nose scrunches when she sets the drink down. All of it. All of her makes me insane.
“Fine,” she says. “But we need to lay out some ground rules.” She turns, offers me a stern look of warning.
“I’ll be a good boy, Ms. Cullen,” I promise. Though I give her a devious grin that says otherwise.
Chapter Thirteen
Declanpeersovermyshoulder in the crowded bar, and I know before I even lock the screen of my phone that he’s caught sight of the app. His hand reaches out, swiping the device before I can put it in my purse.
“What’s the code?” he asks.
I clear my throat. “I thought you were in the bathroom.”
“I was. Now I’m not.” He shoves between the guy sitting next to me at the bar and my seat. “What’s the passcode?”
I shrug. “Not your business.”
His hand settles over my wrist, the heat of it drawing my gaze to him. We had a great dinner at the bar, but now I’m ready to get away. It’s bad enough I agreed to spend time with him on Sunday. I can’t give him any more than what I already have.
He peers down at me with a darkness that sends all the warning bells to my brain; still, I can’t help to make eye contact with him. My breath halts with his intensity. I close my eyes, tearing away from him.
