Eli was full of surprises.
He drove them to Benicia’s Italiano, located on the Magnificent Mile, a very small, very ritzy joint that wouldn’t bat an eye if a couple walked in wearing their finest attires—which they were. Upon Isa’s brief inventory of the place, she spotted two other men in tuxes. Candles behind amber-colored glass in the center of every table bespoke tradition, but the crisp white tablecloths and the sunny orange and yellow motif on the walls gave the restaurant a modern feel.
Eli spoke to the host briefly and the older, bald man nodded and collected two menus. He led them to a cozy booth at the back of the restaurant where a bottle of wine and a cup filled with slender, crisp breadsticks waited for them.
“Chianti as per your standing reservation,” the host said, placing the menus on the table and pulling Isa’s chair out for her. She sat, eyeing Eli as he unbuttoned his jacket and lowered his tall, lean form into the seat across from her. She wished she could snap a picture of him to preserve the moment—the moment Eli Crane put on a tuxedo and took her to dinner after telling her ex off.
Tonight was one for the books.
“Color me impressed.” She bit her lip to hide a grin as she inspected the elegant crowd. “How’d you get us in here? Does the owner owe you a favor?”
“The owner’s son was my rehabilitation guy,” Eli said, studying the menu. “Ex-military. We spent a lot of time together while I was learning to walk on the leg and he mentioned Benicia’s over and over. Said once I get out and about to stop by and he’d have a table and a bottle of Chianti waiting for me.”
“Wow.”
“He’s a man of his word.”
“As are you.”
Eli gave her a dark blue wink and her stomach clenched in anticipation of where the night might lead.
Their waiter stopped by to chat about the specials and fill their glasses. They each ordered the chef’s special—linguine with homemade noodles and mussels. A thick loaf of fragrant, freshly baked bread arrived a minute later, steam curling. Isa’s mouth watered.
“You have a knack for making friends in spite of your trying hard not to,” she observed, tearing off a corner of the bread and dragging it through a shallow dish of seasoned olive oil.
“Are we friends?” he asked.
She paused, the bread dripping oil onto the white plate in front of her. Why did that question feel so intimate? “I think so.”
He lifted his wineglass and drank, saying nothing more about their friendship.
“Thank you for getting me out of the ceremony. I really didn’t want to watch Josh take the reins of my parents’ company.”
“Tell me how you started Sable Concierge,” Eli said, clearly not wanting to discuss Josh any more than she did.
“I’m organized. I’m bossy. I’m good at being an assistant.”
He laughed and she found herself pausing between bites of the bread to admire the brief flash of levity. Eli Crane was gorgeous when he smiled. Well, he was gorgeous anyway, but especially when he smiled. His eyes crinkled at the corners, his dark scruff parting to reveal a flash of white teeth. Her eyes lingered on his lips for a beat too long to be appropriate. She couldn’t help it. She knew what his mouth felt like on hers—the firmness of his lips, the confidence of his touch—and the experience wasn’t one she’d soon forget.
“Sounds like an organized, bossy person would be perfect running your parents’ company. Why didn’t you?”
She took his teasing in stride, lifting her wineglass. “Sawyer Financial isn’t exactly thrilling. Besides, you don’t appear overly eager to take on COO for your parents.”
“Father,” he corrected, but his tone was gentle.
“Oh.”
“My mother passed a day short of my fifteenth birthday.”
“I’m so sorry.” Her heart squeezed. She could easily picture Eli spending his fifteenth birthday quiet and angry at the world for taking one of his parents away.
Isa slid her plate to one side so she could put her elbows on the table—anything to move closer to the man who’d shared a personal detail with her—a detail she hadn’t found on his laptop.
“She wrecked on the highway on her way to buy my gift. The video game I wanted was in the passenger seat.” He took a deep swallow of his Chianti.
“Eli…” She wanted to touch him, but his rigid posture suggested he wouldn’t accept her comfort.
“I’m not the best person for COO of Crane Hotels, Sable.”
She tried to make the connection from his losing his mother to him being unfit for COO of Crane Hotels, but wasn’t sure how the two pieces fit together. Had his mother not wanted him to go into the family business? Or had she wanted him to and the idea of doing so made the pain of losing her fresh?
“Your father and brothers believe you’re perfect for COO,” she said. “They believe COO is your legacy—”
“Don’t”—he held up a hand—“give me the Batman speech.”
“The Batman speech?”
“About how I owe Gotham a debt that would be paid in full by my suiting up and fighting crime. Or, in this case, reporting for duty at the top floor of the Crane Hotel.” His delivery was dry, but there was humor under his words.
“Ah, this is well-tread territory.”
“You need mudding tires to go in there,” he said.
In his own way, he’d asked that she didn’t push him on this, and she respected him enough not to. Whatever reason Eli had for not showing up for work at the Crane, he hadn’t told anyone. Not yet. She wasn’t going to push him. Not when he’d let her leave her parents’ event elegantly, simply because she hadn’t wanted to be there.
At the delivery of their salads, she kept the conversation going. “What is Zach’s role in the charity?”
She’d read the website to better understand what Eli was doing. Refurbs for Vets provided ex-military support so their homes worked around them, not the other way around. Many vets came home needing prosthetic limbs, wheelchairs, or both, and navigating their homes became a whole new ball game when it came to mobility. Eli’s brainchild promised “top-notch craftsmanship, styled to the individual’s needs.” Remodels to kitchens, bathrooms, and any other part of the house that would allow the returning soldier to feel at home. It was admirable, and obvious that home and family were important to Eli—to all of the Cranes.
“Zach is a commercial contractor who has worked with Crane Hotels before,” Eli answered, forgoing the salad dressing and digging into dry lettuce. “He can get ahold of great deals on materials and he’s an honest, hardworking guy.”
“I would have guessed him hardworking, but he’s a tad too charming for me to brand him ‘honest.’”
Eli narrowed one eye.
“I can’t find him charming?” She raised her wineglass and sipped, enjoying Eli’s mild jealousy.
“You can as long as you don’t get that swoonlike sparkle in your eye when I mention him.” Eli rested his elbow on the table and wiggled one finger accusatorially at her.
“Why, Eli Crane. I had no idea you were capable of this kind of flirting.” She was having such an amazing evening with him. It was unexpected. Exciting.
“I used to be capable of a lot of things,” he murmured. There was a hint of grief behind his comment she didn’t like hearing.
The pasta arrived shortly after the salads and Benicia herself left the kitchen in a tomato-sauce-stained apron to introduce herself. She was small, gray-haired, with a large nose and a larger smile. She shook Eli’s hand, then Isa’s in a flour-dusted, bone-crushing grip.
She’d informed them that the tiramisu was on the house, then scuttled back to the kitchen to send it out. Eli and Isa ate in companionable silence much like they did at his house every weekday. They’d shared a lot of meals together, which made tonight feel less like a first date…if that’s what it was.
Dessert and espresso followed, but before she dug into her tiramisu—layered with homemade ladyfingers—there was a question she had to know the answer to. Tonight, he was being open and honest. How much more would he tell her?
“Eli?”
“Yeah?” He didn’t look up, piercing his dessert with his fork.
“Do you miss your leg?”
* * *
In typical Isabella Sawyer fashion, she crashed through the barriers of politeness. Rather than tiptoe around the topic, she’d busted in headfirst. It was a manner he could appreciate.
“Yes,” he answered honestly. Then waited to see where she’d go with the conversation.
She ate a bite of her dessert and chewed thoughtfully. He watched her full lips, no less tempting without the bright pink lipstick, his own fork suspended over his plate.
“In your journal—”
“That you weren’t supposed to read.”
“I know. I’m sorry. I was so…intrigued. You wrote you didn’t miss it. But I would think you’d have to.”
“Well, it’d been with me my whole life.”
She gave him a small smile he returned. Then he told her exactly the way he saw things.
“Battle is nothing new. Men have fought brutal battles to protect what is theirs, what they love, since the beginning of time. Whenever I shipped out, I had one clear mission: keep the men and women around me safe. That was the only mission.” His throat tightened as he considered how he’d failed two men in particular. “I’d sacrifice a part of my body to protect others. God knows Benji and Chris gave the ultimate sacrifice to protect me.”
She reached across the table and stroked his hand. The shock of being consoled over this matter in particular sent a drove of pins and needles up his forearm. Sure his family knew the details and had given him plenty of attention, but from a woman…a woman on a date. This was new. Unexpectedly welcome.
“They gave the way you would have, Eli. They protected you. You can’t deny them the same right to protect their friend.”
“They shouldn’t have.” His lip curled, that hollowed-out feeling returning to his chest whenever he thought of that day. “Christopher had children. Benji had a wife.”
“That’s heartbreaking.”
“I know what it’s like to grow up without a mom. Christopher’s kids won’t ever see their father again—and Benji won’t get the chance to have children.” As much as he missed and longed for his mother, Eli had been blessed to have her around for most of his childhood. Reese had more time with her, Tag had less, but at least they could cling to years of memories.
“For what it’s worth”—Isa gave his hand a light squeeze—“I’m glad your friends sacrificed for you to be here. If you’d have all been lost, I’d never have met you.”
He soaked in her words like rays of sunshine on a chilly day. She held his eyes with hers, her gaze unyielding. Unwavering. As usual, he was caught in a web of her strength and her beauty.
“You don’t dwell, I’ve noticed,” she said.
“No reason to.” He slipped his hand out from under hers and she sat back in her seat. He was as relieved as he was disappointed to lose the attention.
“Yes, but I think it’s because you’re simply not a dweller. It’s like you said, men have been sacrificing parts of themselves as long as humans have been on the earth. You know that, you accept that. The same way you lost your leg and accepted it. The same way, ultimately, you accepted my help.”
“Were you inevitable, Sable?” She was the one who’d danced around the topic of fate—so maybe that was why the word flashed onto the screen of his mind. He wasn’t sure if he and Isa were fated to meet, but she definitely fit him in a way no other woman had. With Crystal, there had always been a push and pull to get along—so fierce he would practically sweat from the effort. With Isa, there was that same dynamic, but the push and pull felt natural. Like no matter what, she was never truly at odds with him.
“I admit”—she lifted her tiny espresso cup and peered at him over the rim, a vision with her dark hair up and dangling earrings twinkling in the candlelight—“you drew me in. I mean, I didn’t have a choice. You unsheathed your claws and stomped off every assistant I sent you. It was either show up myself or let you ruin my hard-won reputation.”
A surge of attraction hit him so hard he didn’t know what to do with it. The restaurant’s sights and sounds dissolved around her like an ethereal cloud until she was the only one in clear focus. Isa was a force he wouldn’t avoid. Even in a bright pink dress offsetting her warm skin tone, she reminded him of a cold wind snapping off the lake, burning his face as he walked into it.
“Beauty is a rare thing in war,” he said, his own lust-infused voice sounding foreign.
Her cocksure smile slipped as she rested the mug on the tablecloth.
“When I came home, I didn’t find beauty here. Months of rehabilitation, keeping my head down and working on the Refurbs project became my focus. Then you…” He shook his head in wonder as the epiphany hit him. “You come along, Sable, and absolutely choke a room with it.”
Her whiskey-colored eyes darkened, shadowed by thick black lashes. Her voice wasn’t more than a stunned whisper when she said, “Thank you.”
“I’m not talking about the way you look.” Though, God, Isa was a vision in every way. “I mean your spirit. You’re fierce. Strong.”
She quieted and he wondered if she was working through what he’d said. No doubt this woman had been told she was beautiful—gorgeous—a million times. Her body alone had to have drawn men like moths doomed to incinerate in the flame. But there was more to her. Layer upon layer of trust and power, independence, and a healthy dose of snark.
He was intrigued by every layer.
“Come home with me.” It was out of his mouth before he’d meant to say it.
“Um…” Her smile was nervous.
Shit. Why had he blurted that?
“Sorry.” He lifted his own espresso for something to do with his hands. “I haven’t done this in a while—a long while. Not since—”
“Eli.”
He expected to meet a pair of sympathetic eyes and hear a well-versed excuse. Instead, Isa’s eyes sparkled in the candlelight and a rich, velvet laugh echoed from her throat.
“I was going to suggest my place instead,” she said. “It’s closer.”
If he’d had a mirror in front of him, he knew he would have seen a grin that matched hers.
* * *
This was it.
An unexpectedly romantic evening with wine and food and delectable dessert was about to be followed by her inviting Eli into her bedroom. So lost in the magic of their conversation and the subtle ways he shared his secrets, Isa hadn’t considered, until Eli pulled into her parking lot, that she wasn’t only asking him in…
She was asking him up.
Outside the windshield, she mentally counted the steps leading to her cozy top-floor apartment. Her heart sank. To Eli, the flight must look a mile long.
The engine died when Eli turned the key and the only sounds in the car were her own heartbeat and their quiet breaths.
“Sable.”
“I know. I didn’t even think about it when I suggested we come here.” She hazarded a glance over at him to find his eyebrows lowered. “We can go to your place. I don’t expect you to compromise.”
“What are you talking about?”
“The stairs.” She pointed needlessly. “There are a thousand stairs leading to my front door.”
He glanced out the window, then back at her. “I see that.”
“But you can’t…or maybe you don’t want to—”
“If you’re having second thoughts, just say it.” His tone was clipped.
Her heart hammered. From excitement or nerves? Isa hadn’t had sex in three years. Three. Years. When she looked at Eli, there wasn’t a single part of her that didn’t want to explore what was between them.
Unless things went beyond sex.
She’d thought Josh had been emotionally unavailable—and he had—but Eli Crane took the proverbial cake. She’d had her first date in forever with a stubborn, closed-off Marine, for God’s sake. Sex would be amazing if his kiss would be anything to go by, but what about after? How would she continue to see him or work for him? How messy would things get if she were dating the epitome of Mr. Emotionally Unavailable?
True, Isa was strong and brave. But a relationship with Eli would test both those limits. She didn’t know if she was ready to put herself in a position of such vulnerability—not yet.
This was a mistake.
“Sable—”
“You know what? I’m going to go. I’ll see you Monday.” She flashed a quick smile and climbed from the car, shutting the door behind her before he could say another word. Not that he did. The last visual she had of him was his frowning mouth and crinkled brow. A peek back at his car from the staircase didn’t reveal more than a dark, reflective windshield.
Who knew what he was thinking right now?
All she knew was that the timing was wrong. Or…not the timing, but something. Something was off.
She’d done the right thing.
For her future. For her heart.