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I eye him. “You’re in the military?”
The image of him sauntering around in combat burns even sexier in me for some reason.
His smile goes lopsided as he purses his lips. “I didn’t mean it like that… but yeah. I was.”
“Oh.” Hello, sexy veteran stud. “What branch?”
“Navy.” The car stopped at a red light, he turns to look at me head-on. In the sunlight, those hazel eyes of his look as green as the sea. Keep your cool. “There wasn’t that much action, as you can imagine, but it did me a lot of good. Taught me discipline, and I made some lifelong friends there.”
“If you liked it so much, then why did you leave?”
As the light changes and he accelerates the car, something in the stiffening of his neck makes me think that he wants to look me in the eye again, but knows he can’t.
“It kind of just happened. News of my mom turned up, and then I got a chance for some comedian gigs… Besides, I had never wanted to stay in the military my whole life. I liked it for what it was, when it was: an experience that set the rest of my life up.”
‘News of my mom’ turning up sounds important—and personal. But I’m not sure we’re at the point of sharing important personal stuff. So instead, I say, “You’re a comedian now?”
“On and off,” he says. “I also help out with the family business from time to time. Right now, I’m overseeing the renovations.”
At his scowl, I say, “That bad?”
He chuckles darkly, powerful hands tightening on the steering wheel so that the veins in his tattooed arms stand out. “You’d be surprised how many things our contractor found to fuck up. Goes to show that a friend of a friend isn’t a good reason to hire somebody. Anyway, we’re ironing out the kinks now, so the next few weeks should be smoother sailing.”
As he pulls the Porsche into a parking lot, he continues, “The comedy part of the club being out of business this long, though, the worry is that people will forget about us. People are creatures of habit. Break that and a lot of regulars might not even think to look us up after a while. I can’t have that.”
Huh. Sexy, manly and intelligent? Sign me the hell up!
“You should do press releases now and leading up to your reopening,” I tell him. “Have a few articles commissioned, stuff like that.” I smile a little self-consciously. “And I’m not telling you that because I’m a journalist.”
Having pulled into a parking spot and turned off the car, Nolan turns to give me that intense gaze head-on. This time it’s thoughtful.
“That’s an idea,” he says.
A smirk pulls his lips to one side. “But first—dinner.”
I smile. “Dinner.”
Outside, he hurries over to open my door for me.
“What?” he says, at my surprised look. “I can’t be a gentleman?”
“Are you?” I say as I step out of the car, the words coming out more questioning than I intended. “A gentleman, I mean?”
The movement brings me breath-close to him, although I quickly step to the side.
Whoa there, Sie, the date just started.
But already, my body feels buzzy and light.
“Alright,” Nolan admits, striding beside me as we head to the restaurant. “Got me. I’m no gentleman.” His smile is downright irresistible. “Still want to go on this date?”
“Depends,” I say, keeping pace, careful not to look over. Despite the way my heart is raging, I know better than to let Nolan set the entire pace for tonight. I hardly know the man. “What do you mean by that?”
Nolan pauses, clearly a bit startled that I would call him out on that. I’m a bit surprised myself.
“Just that…” His easy smile drops. “We have to take what I said seriously?”
I reach for the door handle and open it. Red flag one, though I can’t exactly say why. Then again, our texting began with an inadvertent sext, so what did I expect?
“No, of course not,” I tell his still uncertain expression. “Of course not.”
Inside, though, I’m brought to a stop at what I find.
What. The. Hell.
Chapter 7
Nolan
I knew it would impress her. Willow never fails to.
“It’s not just the name,” Sierra says softly, admiring the tree that fills the four-story building.
I take a few seconds to admire her tousled shoulder-length mahogany hair and wide blue eyes, before shaking my head. “You’re looking at the reason this place even exists. Apparently, when the land got passed from a landowner to a developer, the developer was so in love with the tree that he wanted a business that could incorporate it. Thus, Willow was born.”
If her expression and gaping red lips are any indication, she’s still mesmerized by the 20-foot-tall monolith of a tree.
“What is it?” I ask her as she chuckles.
“It’s silly,” she says with a dismissive shake of her head.
