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“I don’t mind. I’m just glad that business is doing so well.”
We stood behind my dad as he gave the maitre d’ the information about our reservation. I was smoothing the fabric of my dress as we waited for the maitre d’ to consult the reservation book, but then I felt his eyes on me. He was appraising me with a quizzical expression but glanced back at his book when I caught him. The second time he did it, I knew I wasn’t imagining it.
He marked something in his book and then looked up with a smile. “Please follow me.”
He led us through the restaurant, winding us past several empty tables. Just when I suspected he was going to lead us straight out the back door, he guided us to a fairly isolated table way in the back corner. My brow creased as I surveyed the multitude of empty tables he could have placed us at.
No one else seemed to find the table placement lacking. My father was already pulling out a chair to seat my mom while the maitre d’ ushered me to the chair directly across from her.
I hesitated to sit. “I feel like we’re being put in time-out in the corner.”
My mother disagreed, “No, this is perfect! It’s cozy back here.”
Reluctantly, I sat down facing the dark back corner, my back to the entire restaurant. I could only see my parents and one other couple if I turned my head to the right, but I guess it didn’t matter. Privacy was better for the confession I needed to make.
I was engrossed in the menu when our waiter came to take our drink order. I didn’t have a very sophisticated knowledge of wine, so we ended up ordering a bottle of the red wine my mom preferred.
My dad was questioning me about my job, but my mother didn’t seem very interested in my answers when normally she would. She kept glancing over my shoulder. I had to fight the urge to turn around in my chair and see what kept grabbing her attention.
When my mom’s eyes lit up with unbridled excitement, I couldn’t resist any longer. I turned around in my seat and saw the haughty maitre d’ lead a man right up to our table and then nod his head rather obsequiously to him.
As soon as my gaze shifted to the man standing behind the empty chair right next to me, I gasped. For one brief moment, I thought that by some freaky cosmic joke that he was our waiter, but then my mother sprang up from her seat and circled the table so that she could hug him in greeting. Was it possible I’d conjured him up by thinking about him so much today?
What was going on here?
My mouth dropped open as I stared at the too-sexy-to-be-fair man hugging my mom. If I had any doubts that my memory was wrong about his level of attractiveness, they were over. He was drop-dead gorgeous and my lady parts were screaming out their absolute approval.
He was dressed in navy blue slacks and a white button-down dress shirt that showed off his muscular build so perfectly — the clothes looked tailor-made. His thick hair, which fell almost to his shoulders, was a light shade of brown that had an auburn tinge to it when it caught in a certain light. Instead of rumpled and messy, this time, the mop of wavy hair was styled with product, but the effect was just as devastating. He looked like he’d just stepped out of a GQ magazine shoot.
My mom finally released him from her grasp. She was looking up at him, smiling. “Scotty, I’m so glad you could make it!”
My father had also risen and was now shaking Scotty’s hand as they exchanged names.
“It’s nice to meet you, Mr. Meadows.”
I only caught snippets of the conversation as I vaguely watched the scene unfold because my thoughts were furiously spinning. And I was a bit distracted, because the moment I’d clapped eyes on Scotty, my whole body had reacted. My heart rate had sped up, a heated flush washed over my skin, and butterflies went on a rampage in my stomach.
I tried to blame this extreme reaction to him as an adrenaline rush from nerves. My fake boyfriend had just shown up at dinner with my parents. It was completely unexpected, and I already felt guilty about perpetuating this crazy lie to my parents. Of course, that would cause a massive case of the butterflies.
I may have tried to latch onto that excuse, but in truth, my crazy response felt a lot like lust. What else explained that throbby feeling centered right between my legs? Hot. Achy. Swollen. Wet with want. Heat surged through my body as I felt a tingling sensation between my thighs. I squirmed in my seat, desperately trying to relieve the tension that had built up inside of me.
I’d experienced lust at first sight before. A few times, but never this intense. Not to where it overpowered all reason.
I may have had a few sexy daydreams about Scotty this afternoon when I thought it was harmless — when I thought I’d never see him again. But he was here again, in the flesh, invading my mind. Making me think about those full lips — preferably relieving the ache now blossoming between my thighs.
He was still talking to my dad when he glanced over at me and smiled knowingly. I inhaled sharply. Did he know what he did to me? His smile wasn’t a pretty boy smirk. It was a smile of pure confidence. He oozed alpha male, and my body responded accordingly. I had to grit my teeth and clench my thighs together.
Quickly, I looked away, needing to compose myself. I took a sip of ice water with shaking hands. What was I going to do? My thoughts were scattered. I couldn’t think straight around him. I was way too flustered.
Think Summer!
He was dressed to kill and looked devastatingly sexy. So, he wasn’t homeless after all. Still, he was some kind of psycho. A stalker. What the hell was he doing here, anyway? I had to get rid of him.
I smoothed my sweaty palms on the skirt of my dress. If my damp panties were any indication, I was shooting off pheromones like mad. If I was going to survive this dinner, I needed my wits about me and had to shake off the lust. I’d met plenty of hot guys before — even dated and slept with my fair share. And if there was one thing I’d learned, the hotter the guy, the bigger the inevitable disappointment. Guys who knew they were hot were generally assholes looking for insecure girls to stroke their oversized egos. No thanks. Been there, done that.
My breathing had almost returned to normal when my mom returned to her chair. She was looking at me with a gigantic smile on her face.
Scotty slid into the chair next to me. His movements were graceful. Fluid. He moved like an athlete.
