Smith

Meet me at Restaurant Saint Germaine at seven on Friday.

I glanced at my text to Evie once more just to confirm the time and then checked my watch. Five after. She was always punctual, if not early, and I was starting to think I was about to get the blow-off.

The week at work had gone by at a snail’s pace. Once I’d smoothed over the whole cock-up with Arabella, largely helped by the fact that Evie had indeed hit the ad campaign out of the park, there had only been mundane number-crunching to focus on. That left way too much brain space for me to think about Evie. The kiss in the copy room, and most of all, our date tonight.

I settled into my seat at a corner booth of the famed restaurant and glanced at the door again.

If there was even going to be a date.

She’d said yes when I texted her the other day, but maybe the weirdness of witnessing Cullen’s response to our exchange had finally gotten to her and she’d chickened out. I wouldn’t blame her one bit. It was fucking weird for me too. But things had escalated to the point that I was past caring. We would deal with Cullen when the time came.

For now, I knew that I was on the cusp of something with Evie. Something special. Something I’d never felt before. Something that was equal parts intriguing and maddening. Something that had the potential to quiet the demons inside me that whispered in the dark of night that I was unlovable and bound to be alone for life.

It might even be—

“Hey, you!”

I looked up to see Evie standing next to the table wearing a cream-colored blouse and a black leather skirt that fit like a second skin. Her hair was up in an elaborate twist that made me want to yank out the pins just to see those curls go tumbling around her shoulders.

My heart stuttered in my chest, and I stood. “You look amazing,” I murmured softly, leaning in to kiss her cheek. I breathed in her scent while I was at it, and my cock stood at immediate attention.

“Thank you,” she replied, her smile a little shy. “The skirt is a little much for me . . . kind of racy, but I figured what the hell?”

What the hell, indeed? I resisted the urge to skim my fingers across the buttery-soft leather and cup a handful of ass, and instead gestured for her to sit.

“I wish you’d let me pick you up next time,” I said, sitting back down across from her.

“After the close calls we’ve had with Cullen lately?” she said with a snort. “Our luck, he’d be pulling in for a surprise visit right as we walked out. Uber is fine. If you want to take me home tonight, though . . .”

She trailed off, her eyes blazing, and my pulse raced to warp speed.

“Ma’am, may I off-air you a beverahge?” the waiter who had magically appeared asked in the thickest, most put-on French accent I’d ever heard.

Evie blinked up at him, her brow furrowed. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

He smiled, but there was an edge of annoyance as he replied. “I said, what may I get you to drink?” His accent was no less obnoxious, but this time, she understood him because he added a pantomime of a person drinking from a glass, his pinkie extended.

“Uh, sure. I’ll have . . .” She shot me a glance and I shrugged, motioning to my Scotch. I’d been spared this fake-accent routine because I’d ordered mine at the bar before sitting, so she was on her own. “A glass of chardonnay, please.”

He bent in half in a deep bow, nearly beaning his head on the corner of the table, and Evie winced.

“I weel return momentarily weez your libation,” he said before turning on his heel and sauntering away.

Evie stared after him and then turned to me. “Holy crap,” she murmured, and burst out laughing.

I’d always loved that laugh. It rocked her whole body and rang through the room. Apparently, though, not everyone was as impressed. A pair of diners a few seats away sent disapproving glances our way. I kept the grin on my face and raised my glass to them before taking a deep swallow.

Fuck them. If Evie’s contagious laugh didn’t charm the pants off them, they were clearly raised by wolves.

When she finally stopped giggling, Evie held a hand to her heaving chest and shook her head. “I’ve been to some nice places in my life, but this one takes the cake. There are five forks, Smith. Five. Even I don’t know what to do with that many,” she whispered, jabbing a finger toward the gleaming utensils. “I’m feeling a little out of my element.”

I was about to argue with her, to tell her she would fit in no matter where she went. But the truth was, when I’d planned the date, I just wanted to impress her. This place was a Michelin three-star restaurant and made all the magazines. After our first date at my apartment where we’d eaten a humble roasted chicken, I’d wanted to knock her socks off.

But that wasn’t Evie, was it?

This was a generic fancy date for a generic woman. Evie was right. The only reason she was out of her element was because this place wasn’t good enough for her.

I dug into my pocket, pulled out my wallet, and dropped a fifty on the table. Then I stood and held out my hand. “Come on. Let’s get the fuck out of here.”

She let out a puzzled laugh and eyed me suspiciously. “And go where?”

“You’ll see,” I replied, a plan already unfolding in my mind.

Tonight would be a night Evie would never forget, and it wouldn’t be because of any stars or fancy food. It would be because the date was for us and only us.

• • •

“I thought this place closed down last year,” she said, shooting me a shocked look as we pulled up to Rap Scallion’s Bar and Grill less than an hour later.

“Nope. Granted, nobody we know comes here anymore because it’s still a college bar, but they’re open and it’s Friday Five-Cent Wing night, and they have a trivia contest going on.”

When her eyes went suspiciously glassy, I knew I’d done good. This was the same bar we’d gone to on her twenty-first birthday. Up until the point that she’d lost her cookies, she’d had a great night. We all did. Sometimes I wondered if I’d known then that things had changed between us and had refused to admit it to myself.

“Thank you for bringing me here. Lots of great memories,” she said, reaching out a hand and laying it gently on my chest. She shifted on the seat of my car and then gasped. “Oh my God, but look at what I’m wearing. I think I’m just a little overdressed, no?”

“Except that one time you were naked in my hotel-room bed, you always seem overdressed to me, so I’m not the guy to ask,” I said with a wink. “But I can help if you’re worried about it.” I shrugged off my suit jacket and tossed my tie aside before facing her again. “Let’s get this hair down first.”

I reached for the twist like I’d been dying to do since she first walked into the restaurant, and with a few gentle tugs, sent the whole mass tumbling down in a cascade of honey waves. I ran my fingers through it until it looked sexy and mussed, like she’d just left my bed.

“Perfect,” I murmured, my voice gritty.

Her throat worked as she swallowed and nodded. “Good start. What else?”

I trailed my hands down her neck to the buttons of her blouse, flipping open one and then another until a sexy hint of cleavage showed. It took a Herculean effort not to bury my face between her breasts and stay there until morning. I worked up one more surge of self-discipline and untucked the hem of her blouse, unfastening two buttons at the bottom as well and knotting it at her waist. It was only then that, in the moonlight, I realized I’d uncovered a swath of fabric.

Peach lace.

“Ahhh, fuck,” I groaned. My gaze locked with hers, and her breathing became choppy as she wet her lips.

“Y-you said you wanted to see me in it,” she whispered, her voice so low I had to lean in to hear her.

I sure had. In her office a few days before, I’d pointed to this very piece of lingerie. And now, here she was wearing it.

For me.

My resolve not to sleep with her was hanging by a fucking thread, and that thread was unraveling faster by the second.

“I want to see the rest of it more than you could possibly know.” In fact, my dick was so hard, it could have crushed coal into diamonds. “But if I unfasten one more button, we’re never getting out of this car.”

“Would that be so bad?” she asked.

She gnawed on that bottom lip the way she always did, and I let my thumb caress just a scant inch of the soft fabric before pulling back.

“Yup. Because if you think your real first time is going to be in a car, you’ve lost your mind.”

And if I didn’t get out of said car, I was going to lose mine.

I pressed a hard, rough kiss to her mouth because I couldn’t not do it, and then I flung open my door. “Now, let’s go have some fun.”

Luckily, we did. We strutted into Rap Scallion’s hand in hand like we owned the place. We got a few looks from the jeans-and-T-shirt crowd, but soon enough, everyone went back to their beers, and Evie and I were engaged in a heated battle at the dartboard.

“All I need is a bull’s-eye and I win,” she said, rubbing her hands together with glee as she lined up the tip of her high-heeled shoe with the piece of black tape that marked the floor. She closed one eye and perched the tip of her tongue on her top lip as she focused.

As competitive a person as I was, I felt a rush of pride wash over me as she launched that dart into the heart of the board. The electronic game beeped and blinked wildly in celebration of her victory, and she danced along with the noise in time.

“Oh yeah, oh yeah, I’m a beast!” she chanted, shimmying in place as I looked on, shaking my head in mock disappointment.

In truth, I could have watched her shimmy all night. A swath of that peach lace flashed at her waist whenever she moved, and it was doing things to my insides that I couldn’t even describe.

I strolled toward her and bowed deeply like the waiter at the restaurant. “Congratulations, mademoiselle. May I buy you a victory drink?”

She grinned and nodded. “Yes, please. No Sex on the Beach, though. Shot and a beer for me.”

We made our way back to the bar and I placed our drink order. While we waited, she sent me a grin that lit up the room.

“This was a great idea. I’m having a blast. Remember the night of my birthday, when we first got here we did that trivia contest? And Cullen made our team name Multiple Scorgasms?”

I laughed out loud at the memory. “That was awesome. And to be fair, we did crush it that night.”

“We did. I think that was the last time I got to hang out with Pam. How is she doing?”

Thinking of my sister made me realize I hadn’t shared the news yet. “Actually, she’s pregnant again.”

Evie stared at me before clapping a hand over her mouth. “For real? Holy shit, she’s amazing. I don’t know how she does it all. When I have kids, I think I’m going to need to . . . Never mind.” She stopped short and blushed before taking a swallow of the beer the bartender had set in front of her.

“You’re allowed to talk about the future and the things you want in life, Evie,” I said gently.

Maybe our whole talk about being casual had made her afraid to talk to me about anything serious. That was a mistake. While I wanted to take things slow, it had become glaringly obvious in the past weeks that this was as serious as things had ever gotten for me.

“I didn’t want you to think because I want kids one day that meant I expected them to be yours or whatever,” she said, finally meeting my gaze.

The vulnerability in her eyes made me ache for her, and I leaned in and pressed my forehead against hers.

“I know that. And I’m not sure how this is all going to turn out, but I can tell you this. Thinking of you with someone else’s babies makes me want to break shit. And if that’s not casual, then too fucking bad.”

Her grin was tremulous, and she traced a fingertip over my mouth. “Yeah. Too fucking bad.”

This was deep. Deeper than we’d gone so far, and part of me wanted to pull back.

Opening up about shit like this had always been a bone of contention between my ex and me. Talking about kids and the future had been terrifying. What if I was like my own father and found out that, once I had a kid, I didn’t want to be a parent anymore? What if I was shitty at it, like my mother, and opted out when things got hard?

Time and time again, Karen had pressed. And time and time again, it had felt like an invasion of privacy. Eventually it became a no-fly zone, and we’d drifted apart with nothing real to sustain us.

But with Evie, even as I was about to change the subject and make a joke out of sheer habit, something stopped me. This didn’t feel like an invasion at all. It felt right. Like getting something off my chest that had been sitting there like a weight for a very long time.

I cupped the back of her head and touched my lips gently to hers in the softest of kisses. For a long time, we stayed like that, breathing in sync, just holding each other, and damn if it didn’t feel good.

I was falling, and I was falling hard. I could only hope Evie felt the same and that, soon enough, we’d come up with a way to tell her brother.

A way that wouldn’t drive us all apart and ruin everything.