Unknown Number: Hi, Andrew. It’s Reagan. I got your number from Remy. Thank you for the beautiful dress for our dinner tonight, but it’s way too much. You didn’t have to do that. I have my own dresses you know.

When I see the text from Reagan, I quickly save her number into my contacts.

Tonight’s the night of our dinner date.

I left work a little early, to the surprise of my mother and Remy, and went to Nordstrom to meet with my stylist. I gave her Reagan’s measurements—from what I could tell and I tend to have an eye for detail, so I was sure I was right—and told her what tonight means to me. She told me to trust her, and I did.

After picking my suit up, I headed home and spent time with Dawson, listening to his endless questioning of my evening.

“You’re dating?”

“Does this mean I’m getting a new mom?”

“Wait, Reagan. Isn’t she the one from the restaurant?”

“I like her, Dad. She’s funny, and she makes you smile. She makes you laugh, too.”

I held in my laughter. My six-year-old son—a spitting image of me, my mini me—asked me questions I knew would be coming. Since the divorce I never brought a woman around Dawson, and now that he’s met Reagan, the questions were flying out.

I explained that it was a date, that I was getting to know Reagan, and that he had a mom who loved him very much. She just had a strange way of showing it, which was one I would never truly understand.

Dawson accepted this answer and took his bag to the car. Then, I dropped him off at my parents’ for the evening.

I’m still looking at her message on my phone. I didn’t do this to make her feel bad. Tonight is all about her, and I wanted to make her feel special. Even though she’s just a friend, but hopefully, she’ll be something more.

Me: It’s no problem. Tonight’s all about you. See you at 7.

Reagan: Okay.

I’m anxious to see which dress she picked out. Normally, I wouldn’t do this for any woman. But Reagan is different. I can see more with her rather than one night. I’m picturing her in the long, strapless champagne dress. The dress hugging her soft curves, hiding a precious gift beneath.

Her smile flashes in my head. Damn. Instantly, my arousal’s apparent, and I need to take care of that before our evening begins.

After taking care of myself, I take one last look, adjusting the sleeves of my suit, I head out to get a cab and give him the name of the place I need to be.

The cab ride takes a little longer than usual. Chicago traffic isn’t friendly, and I tend to stick with taxis, unlike my parents who like having their own driver.

I can afford one, but it’s not needed. I want to show Dawson that, even though our family has money, we should be careful where and how it’s spent. The cab ride fares aren’t terrible, and it’s cheaper than hiring a driver.

When the cab drops me off in front of Catch 35, I hand him a fifty and walk in to find Reagan standing by the hostess booth. Her long auburn hair is in soft curls, cascading past her shoulders. The dress, the champagne-colored Vera Wang I pictured her in, looks beautiful on her. Better than I imagined. I take in a sharp breath, and an intoxicating feeling takes over when she turns and notices me by the door, staring at her.

Ever since meeting her, her face is what I see when I jerk off, moaning her name and imagining her moaning mine. It’s a daily occurrence since I haven’t had sex since meeting her.

Fuck. How am I supposed to keep it friendly and slow tonight?

My body is already vibrating with the need to feel her pressed against me, her breath fanning over my neck and shoulder as I thrust into her. I'm a ticking time bomb waiting to explode.

I wish she’d allowed me to pick her up this evening. Part of the deal tonight was that we’d meet at the restaurant and go from there. I wasn’t about to argue with her demands after she agreed to dinner.

I shake off my thoughts and turn my attention back to Reagan, who is standing before me, inches from my hard body, smiling her infrequent smile at me. Her smile stretches across her face, touching her eyes, and everything around me stills. I only see her.

“Hi,” she whispers.

“You look beautiful.”

I don’t miss the blush on her cheeks and the way her rigid body finally relaxes. This is what I want tonight and for the days that follow.

Without a second thought, I reach up and allow my finger to trail down her cheek, feeling and absorbing the softness of her skin. “The dress looks exquisite on you. I was hoping you’d pick this one.”

“Thank you. It fits perfectly. How’d you know my size?”

I wrap a strand of her hair around my finger, noticing the quickness of her short breaths. “I make it my job to know everything.” I lean in close to her lips and whisper, “Shall we?”

With a swift intake of breath, she nods, and I place my hand on the small of her back. I keep my hand on her as I follow her to our table.

As soon as we’re seated, a tall, older gentleman takes our drink order. Reagan asks for sparkling water, and I remember her mentioning she doesn’t drink, so I order the same. I watch as she looks at the menu. I notice the widening of her eyes and wonder if she’s used to fine dining. When I reach over to place my hand on hers, she tenses but soon relaxes when she looks at me.

“Order anything you’d like.”

“What do you recommend?” she asks, still looking awestruck by the items listed.

Since I’ve been here a few times, I know the menu, but I open it to humor myself and to see if anything has changed. “I’d like to start off with the grilled oysters and Szechuan scallops if you’d like that, too.”

“I love seafood, so all of that sounds amazing.”

I smile. “Martha’s Vineyard salad is good, but I’d recommend the shrimp and crab bisque. It’s the best in town. Following our appetizers, I’d suggest ordering the Ecuadorian mahi-mahi with the twin Atlantic cold lobster tails.”

“Both? That seems to be a lot. I’ll be fine with the mahi-mahi.”

“Both, together, are very good.”

“Okay.” She smiles and nods. “I’ll do that. What about you?”

“I’m doing the Atlantic cold water lobster tail and filet mignon.”

“Please tell me you like it medium rare,” she says with a cock of her brow.

I try not to laugh too loud. Her question throws me off a little. It’s unexpected.

“Yes, why I do.”

“Good. People who order well done ruin the steak.”

“You seem passionate about rare meat.”

Her face blushes, and she takes a sip of her water. “So, where’s Dawson tonight?”

“With my parents. They’re keeping him overnight.”

“I’m not going home with you, Andrew.” Once the words leave her lips, she looks away, as if embarrassed a little by her outburst.

Her honesty amazes me. It’s part of who she is and that’s nothing she should feel bad about.

“Please”—I reach out and entwine my fingers with hers—“call me Drew. And, for the record, I never asked you to come home with me.”

“Oh.”

“You know”—I pause slightly and watch her lean in a little closer—“it’s nice to be with someone who doesn’t expect too much. Being with you makes me feel comfortable. It’s refreshing.”

“Thanks,” she says, still looking a little flustered. “Can you point me to the restroom?”

I get up and help her up, explaining where to go. As she’s walking away, slightly swaying her sexy hips, my semi-hard cock hardens a little more, and all I want is to skip dinner and take her back to my place. I’d like nothing more than to see her move her hips that very same way, only with my cock buried inside her from behind.

I’m going straight to hell.

My phone vibrates in my jacket pocket, and it’s Dawson, so I immediately answer, clearing away the erotic thoughts I was having only seconds ago.

“Hey, Dad! How’s the date going?”

“It’s good, Dawson. Is everything okay?”

“Oh, yeah. Everything’s fine. I wanted to call you and remind you to be nice and tell her she looks pretty.”

I laugh at his words and curiosity. He’s definitely my son.

“Everything's going well. There’s not too much to report. She asked for my recommendation, and I gave it to her after I told her she looked beautiful. Are you having fun with Grandma and Grandpa?”

“Yep. Grandpa’s cooking popcorn in the microwave. We’re going to watch a movie and sleep in the fort we built. It’s so cool! And Grandma’s making her famous chocolate cookies, and you know how much I love her cookies.”

I smile, and my heart fills, knowing my son’s having a great time. “I’m glad, Dawson. Don’t get too wound up on sugar. You don’t want to crash tonight or get to bed too late. We have a busy day tomorrow.”

“Don’t worry. I’m six, almost seven, so I’m not a baby anymore.”

“Uh-huh.” I look up and don’t see Reagan, so I go back to my conversation with Dawson. “Have fun tonight. I’ll see you in the morning. I love you.”

“Love you, too!”

When I disconnect from the call, I still don’t see Reagan. I walk to the restroom and lean against the opposite wall. I give it another two minutes before opening the door, but I back away when she comes out and jumps back a little.

“Um, hello? Stalker much?”

“I’m not a stalker. I was worried. You were gone for a while, so I was checking to make sure you were okay.”

“Everything’s fine. My best friend, Aimee, needed to talk, but as you can see, I’m in one piece. I don’t need you checking up on me. It’s sweet you came to check. Not necessary though.”

“Everything about you is necessary, Reagan.”

“Okay,” she says, seeming unsure as she walks away.

We return to our table, and I listen as she tells me about college and moving to Chicago. What she’s telling me is vague. She doesn’t expand on too much, and I don’t want to push her to tell me more.

“What made you decide to move?”

“Oh, just a change,” she answers.

“Do you visit your family often?”

“No. It’s just me and my mom. She’s retired and traveling to all the places she’s always wanted to see. After I left Boston, I didn’t keep in close contact with anyone until Aimee and I reconnected and that’s how I ended up in Chicago.”

I don’t press her for more details, but I find it a bit alarming that she walked away from Boston without a second thought.

After dinner, I suggest we head to Andy’s Jazz Club. The cab ride’s quiet, and I take every chance I can to sneak a glance at her beauty. She’s staring out the window, and I want so badly to know what’s on her mind.

Once we’re there, I lead her through the doors, and the hostess immediately seats us. A woman’s onstage, playing the piano, and she gains Reagan’s attention. Her soft and relaxing voice croons out an old blues song, and I watch Reagan, who is mesmerized by the song. I lean in closer and her hear softly singing.

“You have a beautiful voice.”

She jerks in surprise to the sound of my voice, yet continues to sing and watch the performance. When the singer is finished, to my surprise, Remy takes the stage, and Reagan sits straighter and watches him.

“Did you know about this?” she asks, pointing toward Remy and giving me a quick, questioning glance.

I only shake my head, feeling just as surprised to see him as she is.

Remy’s played the piano since he was little. He’s a talented pianist, and he could’ve done more but decided to follow in the business track that had been pushed on him when he was younger.

A slow rhythm starts, and I look at Reagan swaying back and forth to the song. She’s smiling, and her face lights up. I’m fighting my insane jealousy. I swallow hard and rest my fists on my thighs, so I’m not tempted to grab her and leave.

When I look up at the stage, Remy notices us and smirks, eyeing Reagan more than I’d like him to.

Fucking asshole.

As he finishes his slow ballad, the room erupts with applause, and I clap as well.

“Fancy seeing you two here,” he says, stopping in front of our table and reaching over to squeeze Reagan’s shoulder. Her very bare and sexy shoulder.

All I can focus on is how close they are, almost like intimate lovers.

“Drew?”

I look toward Remy. “What?” I didn’t mean for my tone to be harsh. Okay, fuck that, I did.

He smirks again. “I’m done for the night. Was thinking about being the third wheel on your date, if you don’t mind.”

“Oh, yes. Please join us! We already had dinner, and I’d like to go see Navy Pier, especially at night.”

“Remy,” I slowly bite out, “don’t you have something to do tonight?”

“Nope.” He smirks again and turns toward Reagan. “Ah, you know what?” He taps the tip of her nose, and I’m ready to knock him on the ground and claim her as mine. “I do have plans, sweet Reagan, but if you’d like to join me for lunch tomorrow, I can show you around more of Chicago.”

“I’d love to.”

Remy claps and helps Reagan up, so they’re standing side by side.

“You two have a great night. Reagan, I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon at noon. Andrew, I’ll talk to you later, man.”

“Yeah.” Never have I ever wanted to kill Remy before—until now.

When Remy leaves, I extend my hand out to Reagan, and she willingly takes it as we walk out of the club and toward an awaiting cab. I suggested a location near the Navy Pier, and when he starts driving, I listen to Reagan talk endlessly about Remy and how talented he is.

Fucking wonderful.

I tell the cab to wait for us, and he does when I hand him two hundred dollars. As we walk together, she stops and turns, watching the water.

“It’s so beautiful and calm tonight. I can sit here for hours and let my mind go free. What I’d love is to go somewhere with a beach, stand on the sand, look out toward the ocean, and feel free. Do you ever come here to think? Or to get a new perspective on life?”

“Sometimes.”

Noticing a slight shiver from her, I place my suit jacket over her shoulders and bring her close to me.

“I had an amazing night with you, Reagan, and I hope to do this again very soon.”

She smiles, and I lean down to kiss the corner of her lips. The softness of her skin pulses down to my hard cock, but when she pushes me away, I’m left standing there, confused.

“What is it?”

“Why’d you kiss me?”

“Because I like you. Did you want me to kiss you?” I ask.

Her eyes dart away from mine again, and her face turns pale. Even in the moonlight, I can see the tightness of her brows and her shallow breathing. The walls that she once had are back up.

“Did you want me to kiss you?” I ask again, lifting her face to meet mine. I need to see what she’s feeling.

“Yes.”

“And what’s the problem?”

She sighs in frustration. “Because I wanted to kiss you. I’m not normally like this. This isn’t who I am. I don’t kiss and go on romantic dates, and I sure as hell don’t allow my dates to buy me gorgeous dresses. It scares the hell out of me that I’m having fun and that I want your lips on mine.”

“You’re scared? Why? I won’t hurt you.”

I’m expecting her to yell at me and demand to go home. Her silence is making me nervous, and I don’t know what’s going through her mind. When her gaze connects with my own, I’m lost in her emerald colored eyes.

My hand cups her face. “I like you, and I don’t mind taking things slow. Anything you need and want, I’ll do for you.” My thumb sweeps over her soft skin. “Tell me I can take you out again.”

“Okay.”