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Can’t wait.
I replayed the text in my mind that I almost sent Tank and once again felt like slapping my hand against my forehead. It would’ve been so ridiculous to say that to a man I barely knew.
Even if it was true.
I wasn’t sure when I went from intrigue to full-blown attraction when it came to Tank, but I knew it’d happened when I couldn’t stop thinking about him this week. I’d waited, like a high school girl, for him to text me, wondering if he actually would. And when he did, excitement flooded me. I wanted to get in my car and drive to the clubhouse so we could converse in person. I’d never talked to someone who seemed so honest. I immediately knew that I could trust him to be real with me, whether I wanted that or not.
Stopping at a red light, I looked around Main Street in New Hope and smiled. I’d barely seen the sign driving in before a wave of calm washed over me. Nobody knew me or my family here. No eyes watched me, and no people judged me when I was here. I had no idea what this feeling was, but it was peaceful, and I craved it while I was home this week.
I’d texted Tank that I’d like to eat at Ritz’s restaurant when he offered it as an option. I knew it was fancy, but that wasn’t why I wanted to go. I’d eaten at too many fancy restaurants in my lifetime. I wanted to eat there because I thought it would be nice to support Ritz and see him in his element. I couldn’t help but wonder if Ritz was different while working compared to who he was at the clubhouse. I didn’t know him well, but from what Rachel told me, he was outgoing and kind of a goofball. Her words, not mine, but that intrigued me. None of the men I’d met so far in the MC acted how I assumed they would. Maybe that was a result of the prejudice I’d been taught. I wasn’t sure, but it didn’t matter. I’d made a judgment before I’d even met them, and they continued to prove me wrong at every turn.
Pulling into the restaurant’s parking lot, I parked and stared at the name—Vivian’s—written in a beautiful cursive font and hanging proudly over the double doors.
I immediately wondered who Vivian was and how special she must be to have had such a tribute made.
I jumped when there was a knock on my window and laid my hand over my chest when I saw Tank standing outside staring in at me expectantly. Shaking my head at how ridiculous I must look, I grabbed my purse from the passenger seat and turned just as Tank pulled open my door.
Turning my body, I was just ready to step down when Tank moved to stand between the open door and my legs. “Didn’t mean to scare you.”
I smiled. “It’s okay. I was just lost in my thoughts.”
“What were you thinking about?”
I pointed at the sign. “I just thought that whoever Vivian is, she must be special for a restaurant to be named after her.”
He glanced at the sign before facing me again. “Vivian is Ritz’s mom. She died a while back from cancer.
“Oh.” My smile dropped. “That’s so sad.”
“Not sad.” He tilted his head. “It’s a tribute. She taught him everything he knows about cooking but never had the money or time to realize her own dream of owning a restaurant. He thought this would be something he could do in her memory, so he joined forces with two other chefs, and they run this place together. His only stipulation when he joined them was that he got to name the restaurant.”
“That’s really sweet.”
Tank grinned. “Don’t tell Ritz you think he’s sweet.”
Smiling, I tilted my head. “Why not?”
He held out his hand, which I took, while I stepped down from my SUV. “Because he’ll make it his fucking mission to prove to you that he isn’t.”
My feet barely hit the ground before he closed the door behind me. I ran my hands over the softly ruffled skirt of my dress. “Do I look okay? I wasn’t sure how dressy the restaurant is.”
Tank’s eyes lazily flicked over my body before returning to my face. “You really have no idea, do you?”
My heart beat quickly when he stared at me with an intensity I’d never seen on any man’s face. “No,” I whispered.
“It’s my mission to change that.”
Needing to break eye contact, I let my gaze drift over his T-shirt and jeans. How could someone make something so basic look so good? I tried to shift my attention away, but it kept coming back to the way his black T-shirt stretched across the muscles of his chest and shoulders. I’d never been with someone who was muscular, at least not in the way Tank was. Most of the men in my circle were lean and ran on a treadmill to stay that way, but it was obvious to me that Tank earned his muscle from labor, which I found incredibly attractive. Because of that, I’d been kicking myself all week for not remembering what it felt like to have all that muscle under my fingers last Saturday.
“You keep looking at me like that, sweetheart, and we aren’t going inside.”
My eyes snapped up to meet his, not sure I even heard what he said. “What?”
He grabbed my hand and gestured toward the front doors. “Let’s go.”
Dangling my purse from my fingertips, I let the warmth of his hand wrapped around mine wash over me. His rough, calloused palm rubbed my skin, and I relished the feeling. I was used to holding hands with someone whose skin was as soft as my own, but not Tank. It was obvious by the strength and rough texture of his hands that he earned a living using them.
When he pulled open the door, I skirted around his hip to enter first, and we stopped at the hostess’s stand. “Reservation under Watson.”
