“It does?” Incomplete thoughts tumbled through my head. What was I doing? Why was I here? Could I trust him? I couldn’t settle on any one thought, the nerves making me jump from one thing to another.
“My goal tonight is to make you feel everything, deny yourself nothing.”
His words shot straight to my core. Could I let go of my reservations and fears, letting myself have one perfect night with him? I wanted to. I want that for him and for me.
I wanted to tell him to take care of me, to take care of my heart, but the words died on my lips. It was too much, too soon. I could barely handle all of the emotions swirling inside, threatening to bubble over.
He winked, squeezing my hand. “Let’s go eat. Then we can unwrap all this later.”
Instead of sounding scary, the idea of him unwrapping me both figuratively and literally, sent tingles spreading over my skin, leaving goose bumps in their wake. I felt light, hopeful.
I stepped inside his sleek sports car, not asking where we were going, trusting he’d taken care of every detail so I could relax. I laid my head back on the headrest, watching the sharp line of his jaw, the stubble he kept there, the muscles of his hands as he maneuvered the stick shift. My hands coasted over the buttery leather. “I didn’t know you drove this.”
“It’s what I drove in California. It’s been sitting in the garage, waiting for a special occasion.”
My brow raised. “Am I that special occasion?”
His gaze skidded to me, then back to the road. “You know you are.”
His eyes, his lips, his touch were full of unspoken promises of what would come later. I squeezed my thighs together, letting the anticipation build.
He parked in front of the valet. “We’re here.”
I looked around, seeing that here was the Annapolis Yacht Club. I loved that he’d made the effort to impress me with the sports car, the fine dining. “Fancy. I’m impressed, Mr. Locke.”
He shifted his vehicle into park, lifting my hand from the supple leather of the seat, waiting until my gaze shifted from the window to him. He slowly and deliberately kissed the palm of my hand. “That was the intention.”
My brain short-circuited not remembering what he’d said, heat curled in my belly swirling faster and faster in time with the beat of my heart. I touched my throat, searching for how to respond when my door opened. The moment was severed as he released my hand, the warmth of his lips branded there forever. I turned, offering my unmarked hand to the valet, stepping out.
By the time I reached the sidewalk, Griffin was there, his arm at the narrow base of my back as he guided me down the sidewalk under the arch of the doorway into the pretentious club. I wanted to ask if he had a membership and where he was hiding his yacht, but his brother died on a boat, so I kept my lips pressed tightly together. I wouldn’t say anything to puncture this bubble we existed in. Not tonight, anyway.
While Griffin murmured to the hostess, my gaze traveled around the room taking in the light reflected on the bay water, the people gathered on City Dock, the soft clink of glasses and hushed conversation ghosted over my ears, anchoring me in this moment.
Griffin’s hand lightly touched my elbow before dragging down the soft skin of my arm, pausing on my racing pulse, then interlacing his fingers with mine. My eyes met his, my heart skipping a beat before he tugged me into motion, following the hostess to our seat. She said something I couldn’t register before leaving Griffin to pull the chair out for me.
I settled in as he sat across from me. “What wine would you like?”
“You pick.” I chewed on my lip as nerves settled in. I’d never been anywhere this fancy. There were too many pieces of silverware on the white tablecloths, a piano playing soft music in the center of the room.
Griffin lifted the wine menu, his gaze pausing on my lips, before he refocused on the selection.
My thoughts were still a tumbling mess of worries and concerns, I tried to push away, but just like in yoga, they were always there, fluttering around the edges. I gripped the menu tightly, the words swam in front of me.
Griffin looked up from his menu. “I recommend the crab imperial.”
“Yes. Please.” I was relieved he’d taken charge, ordering for me.
“What? No arguments. No strong opinions about me picking something for you?”
“Not tonight.” I was out of my element. Nervous yet excited for what I hoped would come after. “I trust you.”
His eyes darkened at my words, as if he knew I was talking about more than his choice for entrees.
I should clarify saying I trust him to order dinner and wine, but I didn’t. The words I’d thrown in the air between us lingered, casting a glow between us.
He lowered his menu, placing his hand on the table between us, palm up in silent invitation.
I placed my hand in his, soft and warm, my heart squeezed. “Thank you for bringing me here.”
“You’re welcome. I looked forward to this all week.”
“Me too.”
The waitress arrived, listing the specials, the wine list, I watched Griffin’s lips move as he ordered for us, powerless to listen or focus on anything but him.
“Tonight’s different,” he remarked when the waitress left with the menus.
“It is.” I couldn’t say why or how, but it was. Being with him felt right. Sitting across from him at this fancy restaurant, accompanying him to a fundraiser for the firm’s charity, walking side-by-side with his nephew as we toured the town. For once, I wasn’t going to question anything. I’d go with my gut fluttering with nerves.
The waitress returned, pouring a white wine. I lifted the glass to my lips, conscious that Griffin studied my every move. I took a sip, the cool crisp liquid floating down my throat. I nodded at the waitress, setting the glass down for her to continue pouring. “It’s perfect.”
Griffin’s lip tugged into a smile. “I thought you’d like it.” His voice was low, full of promise as if it was meant only for my ears.
The waitress left so quietly, I barely noticed she was gone and we were alone again. My heart tugged toward him, seeking, wanting more. How would I get through the evening when I wanted to be in my apartment, slipping off my shoes, gathering my hair over one shoulder, tilting my head in silent invitation.
I could imagine the slow drag of the zipper, inch by inch as my skin was revealed to him. His face lowering to the crook of my neck as he paused his descent, kissing, licking, maybe even biting before soothing the sensation with his lips.
“What are you thinking about?”
Should I tell him? I wasn’t a seductress. I’d never had to be. “I’m thinking about taking off my dress.”
“Jesus.” The word escaped his lips before he bit it, stopping whatever else he was going to say.
The time I’d spent preparing for this evening was worth it, to feel his fingers curl tightly around mine, his thighs bracketing mine. The table was small, intimate, the glow of the candle dancing in his eyes. “Thank you for tonight.”
I felt a little like Cinderella. The evening felt magical in this dress, with him on my arm, his attention focused solely on me. We talked about the restaurant, the music, the town, the sights I still wanted to see. We broke away from each other when dinner came, slowly enjoying our meal, as anticipation for what was to come heightened with each bite. I finished one glass of wine before he ordered another.