Lena made a non-committal noise, pretending to take great care in undoing her seatbelt.
“Let me help you.”
Suddenly, he was next to her, pulling the belt from its holder. Tilting her head to look up at him, he brushed a hand across her cheek, tangling his fingers in her hair. The naked heat in his eyes seared her, holding her gaze when she wanted nothing more than to look away. She saw his focus shift to her mouth seconds before he pressed his lips to hers. Instead of pushing him off, she leaned into him, returning the kiss. For several minutes, their tongues stroked, lips and mouths seeking. When his hand slid over to her exposed thigh, her senses took hold. Gently clasping his hand, she moved it away.
“You’re amazing.” Pulling back, he tapped her nose with his finger. “We better go in before they give our reservation away.”
Nodding, she unlocked the doors and pulled down the visor to reapply her lipstick. They still burned in the aftermath of his fiery possession. Stepping out of the SUV, he held out his hand, which she took, and they walked into the eatery.
A half hour later, they were sharing a colossal shrimp cocktail, a platter of lobster rolls, crab cakes, and a bottle of pinot grigio.
“You were right when you said this place was gorgeous,” Lena said before biting into a lobster roll. “The rhythmic shushing of the waves is so relaxing. I should come here daily.”
“I’m down for that.” Grinning, Tank speared a shrimp with his fork. “How do you like the food so far?”
“Well, judging by my fancy palette,” she replied with a thick French accent, “it’s some of the best” —she broke into laughter, unable to keep up the charade— “I’ve had in the area.”
“It’s so fuckin’ cute the way your nose crinkles when you laugh.”
“Do you flatter the women you take out for dinner?”
“You act like I’m a player. And before you say anything—I’m not.”
“I bet women don’t say no to you often.” Leaning back in her chair, she cocked her head to the side. “I bet you’re one of those men who’re used to getting exactly what they want, when they want it.” She took a sip of wine, eyeing him over the rim of her glass.
“I’m not.” He reached for the bottle of beer in front of him. “I’ve always been a hard worker, but yeah, things come easy with women.”
“So you’re saying they throw themselves at you?” Lena’s eyes traced his picture-perfect features. “I wouldn’t be surprised.”
“Yet I’m here, with you. Means being picky must pay off for me.”
“Damn, that was smooth.” She felt her cheeks heat despite her eye roll, and she tried to concentrate on the food so he couldn’t see the million and one thoughts rolling through her head. It was time for a swift change in topic. “You must have one hell of a mother to make you so picky.”
A flash of something she couldn’t identify tightened his features before he smoothed out his expression. Maybe she’d hit a nerve. It was bound to happen, given the fact that they were virtual strangers, but the mishap still sat uneasily on her shoulders.
“She raised us as a single mom, so yeah, she’s pretty spectacular.”
“Us?”
“I’ve got a younger brother.” Frowning, he twisted the dewy beer glass in between his fingers. “He doesn’t come around much. What about you? Do you have any siblings?”
“No. When I was young, I wished I did, and then I met Felicia. We’ve known each other since grade school. We’re like sisters.” Lena looked off toward the water. The waves hitting the white sand before receding back into the ocean were hypnotizing. “There’s something about you,” she murmured.
“What do you mean?” Leaning forward across the table, a small smile curled his lips. “You can’t leave me hanging with a comment like that.”
“You heard that?” Damn.
“Tell me.”
Lena inhaled a deep breath and slowly let it out. “Okay. I’m not used to being in the now—the moment. My head’s always jumping around to the next thing I have to do, and it usually involves my business. But being with you kind of slows things down, and I like it.”
Once the words were out of her mouth, she immediately regretted putting herself in such a vulnerable position. Silence—untamed, and full of tension—slipped its way between them. She looked down at her lap, wondering if what Felicia said about taking this guy seriously had influenced her, so she’d let her guard down. A couple of cocktails, a romantic view, and a hot as hell kiss, and I go to mush.
She waved her hand and looked back toward the ocean. “Forget what I said. It’s been a long week at work, and I know I’m not making much sense. I don’t normally act this way.”
“Don’t worry about it. It was sweet.” His tone was reassuring, but she couldn’t look at him.
“Yeah, maybe if we were in seventh grade.” She nibbled on her index finger before moving to the cuticle on her pinkie, then quickly crossed her arms. “Tell me more about you. Let’s take the glaring spotlight off of me.”
Her attention shifted back to him when he readjusted in his chair.
“What? You’re the one who was dying to have this dinner, so do your part and put in the work. You said you were hard-working.” She teased. “Tell me more about you and your family. I want to know the rest of the story.”
“So you don’t want to leave anything on the table for the second date?” He brought the beer to his lips and took a long pull.
She smiled. “Who said you’ll get that lucky?”
“Fuck, you’re a ballbuster.” Shifting again in his chair, he shot her a look that said he was enjoying it. “I like nothing better than a bourbon neat and cranking up my bike for a ride along the coast and inland roads.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s where the bad boy vibe comes from. Let me guess, you have a Harley.”
“Fuck yeah, woman. Harleys are the only motorcycles to have.”
Images of her on his bike, plastered against his firm back, rushed through her mind. “How long have you been riding?”
“Since I was in high school. I worked my ass off my sophomore and junior year to buy a used Harley from this old dude I met on the beach. I didn’t have enough money, but my mom made up the difference. That bike was my first. It was always there for me, ready for adventure anytime. My mom gave me the world with that bike.” She could see the tenderness in his eyes when he spoke of her.
“It sounds like you’re close to your mother.”
He nodded, running his fingers up and down the glass. “My mom worked her ass off to keep a roof over our heads after my dad split, right after my younger brother was born. She never had a fancy education. She worked two, sometimes three jobs to make sure we were fed and clothed. I started helping as soon as I could work. My first job was stacking boxes at Riley’s Liquor Store.” He chuckled. “No one had a clue I was only thirteen. Anyway, I helped a lot because my mom didn’t have anyone else.”
She thought that was an interesting choice of phrase when he clearly had a younger brother who could help out, but it seemed better to let it go than to push on the subject.