His compliment pleased her since she’d spent a lot of time on her appearance. She wore a leopard print top and black slacks, and she’d washed and deep-conditioned her curly hair, making sure every single strand looked perfect. Not a single bit of frizz in sight.
Without warning, Vicente slipped a hand around her waist and leaned close to her ear. “In Spanish, I would say, t’eres un mango. That means you’re hot.”
Shanice blushed. He smelled so good—like leather and citrus. She really, really wanted to get this guy naked and get that scent all over her skin. She hadn’t had sex in months, making it hard to be good right now.
Shanice tipped back her head to look up at him. “You’ll have to teach me more Spanish words.”
“I intend to. I’m glad you came, Shanice. I wasn’t sure you would. When you said you wanted to meet me here instead of letting me pick you up, I assumed that was your sneaky way of getting out of the date.”
“Once you get to know me, you’ll learn that I only say what I mean. If I didn’t want to come on this date, I would have told you.”
His eyes sparkled with interest. “Good to know.”
They followed a hostess through the middle of the restaurant to a table that looked out onto the back street where cars cruised by and the neon lights of a local hotel painted each vehicle with red and green as they passed. After they were settled, a waiter came over. Dark-skinned, with a Spanish accent similar to Vicente’s, he introduced himself as Marco and took their drink orders. After he left them alone, Shanice stole a peek at her date, whose head was bent over the menu. His wavy black hair looked luxurious under the recessed lights.
She couldn’t remember the last time she’d sat down with a man on an actual date over dinner and wine. The last time she’d been out with a man was with Dennis, and he’d taken her to an off-the-beaten-path restaurant because he was worried about his wife seeing them together while they were in the middle of a divorce. Being out in the open and dressed up was a nice change.
“Any suggestions?” she asked, dropping her gaze to the menu.
The dishes ranged from Peruvian ceviche to grilled Argentine meats, and included interesting choices for dessert. Everything sounded delicious, and she had a hard time deciding what to order.
“I have no idea,” Vicente admitted.
“Is this your first time here?”
He finally looked up. “Yes. We’ll be discovering this place together.”
“You made a risky decision bringing me here,” she said.
“How so?”
“Aren’t you trying to impress me?” She batted her eyelashes at him.
He chuckled. “I thought you were trying to impress me,” he teased.
“I am. I guess the desire to impress goes both ways.”
“I think you’re right.” His gaze flicked to the menu again and then he set it aside. “I have an idea. Why don’t we forget about the menu and have the waiter decide what we’ll eat and drink tonight.”
“Oooh, that’s really living on the edge. I don’t know.”
“Are you in?”
Without hesitation, Shanice folded her menu. “I’m in.”
Cruz took it, and when Marco returned, he handed both to him. “We’re being daredevils tonight. We want you to order for us. What do your customers usually enjoy? Whatever that is, we want it.”
The waiter grinned. “You’re sure about this?”
“I’m sure. We want the works—appetizers, entree, a nice bottle of wine, and if we have room at the end of the meal, dessert.” He looked directly at her. “This is our first date, and I’m trying to impress her.”
“Your first date?” The man’s grin widened as he looked at Shanice, and then he said something to Cruz in Spanish. Cruz replied, they both laughed, and the waiter left the table.
“What was that about?” Shanice asked, spreading her napkin across her lap.
“I shouldn’t tell you.”
“You have to tell me. It would be really rude if you didn’t.”
“You’re right. He said that you’re a very beautiful woman and I’m a very lucky man.”
“Did he really say that?” Shanice asked, her cheeks heating with color.
“Yes, he did.”
“And what did you say?”
“I said, ‘I know. So make sure you make me look good tonight.’” His eyes sparkled with humor.
“I’m…flattered,” Shanice said. She ran a fingertip up and down the stem of her water glass.
Vicente stopped her movements by taking her hand.
“Tell me about you, Shanice. I want to know everything.”
“How far back do you want me to go?”
“Don’t go as far back as the womb and we should be fine.”
She laughed. “You surprise me. You have a sense of humor, which wasn’t obvious initially.”
“I try.” He smiled.
Man, those lips.
“There’s not much to tell. I don’t have a lot of family, except my mother, as I mentioned. My father, who passed away a few years ago, was a cognitive psychologist, or what some people simply call a brain scientist. He was a brilliant man, always reading and studying, constantly curious about how the brain works and how we remember things and learn. His second love was chemistry, and that occupied much of his time, too. He loved tinkering in his lab at home.”
“He had a lab at home? That sounds dangerous.”
She enjoyed his touch as he idly played with her fingers. His thick fingers were rougher than she expected for an accountant, as if he worked a lot with his hands. She didn’t mind the roughness, though. It added another intriguing dimension to the man and made her want to learn more about him.
“Oh, it was, and it drove my mother crazy. Initially the lab was a room at the back of the house, but after a small fire that resulted in charred walls and a panicked call to the fire department before we were able to put it out, she banished him to outside. He ended up building a shed in the back yard, and I used to spend a lot of time out there with him as his assistant. I learned so much, not only about science but about life. We talked about everything.” Her heart ached, and she wondered if she’d ever fully recover from no longer having him in her life.
Vicente gently squeezed her hand and brought her attention back to him. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
“Thank you.” She heaved a sigh. “Anyway, my parents had that kind of crazy love, where no one else matters in the world but that person. They met in college, fell in love, got married, and lived happily until cancer stole my dad from us. But while we had him, he blessed our lives in all kinds of ways, and I really miss him.”
The waiter arrived with a bottle of red wine. After they tasted it, he poured them each a glass and promised to return with their appetizers before too long.
Vicente took another sip of wine before setting his glass on the table. “When you talk about your parents’ relationship, you sound wistful.”
“Do I?” Shanice laughed. “Being with someone you really connect with can be absolutely amazing, when it’s right. I saw that with them.”
Folding his arms on the table, he asked, “Why are you still single?”