My phone beeps alerting me of a text. Of course, it goes off when I’m in the middle of a shitstorm. My father wants me to order new merchandise for Jesse, “it has to be today, Lilah,” he mentioned in our meeting. You’d think I’d be used to his quickfire decisions and orders after working for him all this time, but I’m still taken by surprise.

I finish placing an order for women’s shirts with the hashtag #JessesGirlz on it and mens’ with the hashtag #StunGunn before I finally pick up my phone. Expecting to see a message from my father adding to my ever-increasing list of things to do, I smile when I realize it’s from Jesse.

Jesse: Looking forward to tonight. See you at seven.

Where could he be taking me? Wherever it is, it’s casual.

Me: No hints about what we’re doing?

Jesse: Where’s the fun in that? All I’ll say is you’ll be well fed.

At least I don’t have to cook myself dinner. Glancing at the clock, I notice the day is disappearing faster than I want it to.

Me: I’ve gotta finish my work or I won’t be seeing you tonight. Talk later.

Jesse: All work no play…

I smile when I read his final text. I know I’m a focused person, but I like to think I’m fun too. Maybe tonight I’ll make a special effort to show him I’m not always about work.

Shifting my weight in my leather executive chair, I stare out the windows at the blue sky sprinkled with thick, dense silvery gray clouds that remind me of Jesse’s eyes and have me looking forward to tonight. Our first official date. I hope wherever he’s taking me is private. No one can know we’re dating.

Dating? Is that what we’re doing?

Ugh. I hate not knowing where I stand with him.

Regardless of what we’re doing my father can never find out. He’s such a stickler for rules. I’ll never hear the end of how I’m breaking the no fraternization policy. I can already imagine the conversation. “I expected better from you, Lilah.” No thank you. That’s one conversation I don’t ever want to have.

* * *

Jesse pulls up in front of the main entrance and parks by the valet. “Are you going to tell me where we are, now?” I’ve asked numerous times over the past forty minutes and he hasn’t given me a straight answer.

He smiles, unclicking his seat belt and stepping from the car.

So much for getting an answer. He’s at my door, assisting me out before I have my belt undone. Once he takes my hand, he doesn’t relinquish it as we walk through the double doors as they automatically part.

“Good evening Mr. Gunn,” the desk clerk calls out.

“Joseph, how are you?”

“I’m well, sir. Who is this lovely lady?”

Jesse squeezes my hand and smiles down at me. “This is Lilah. If I have my way, you’ll be seeing her as a frequent guest of mine.”

Frequent guest? This is his building then. I arch a brow in reply before turning to accept the hand Joseph has extended. I smile gazing at his kind eyes. He reminds me of a thin Santa Claus with his white beard and hair. “It’s nice to meet you, Joseph.”

“You too, miss. I hope I’ll be seeing your beautiful smile again.”

“Joseph, you old charmer. Stop making me look bad,” Jesse interjects.

Aiming a glance at Jesse, I reply, “I’ll see how tonight goes before I make any decisions on whether I’ll be coming back. Jesse shouldn’t get ahead of himself.”

Joseph chuckles. “Sounds like Lilah might keep you on your toes.”

“You have no idea,” Jesse sighs in mock resignation then smiles crookedly at me. “Come on. Dinner should be ready. At the least I can wow you with my cooking skills and have you coming back for more meals.”

“Enjoy your evening,” Joseph calls out as we head toward the elevator.

The heels of my boots echo against the shiny tile floors like a steady drumbeat with each step, mirroring the strong thumping of my own heartbeat in my chest. I didn’t expect him to bring me to his place and now that he has I’m nervous.

Does he expect the night to end with sex?

Do I want the night to end with sex?

I need to stop thinking about sex.

The silence on the ride up to his twentieth-floor condo is awkward and tension filled. What is it about being in an elevator with Jesse that has me fantasizing about him slamming the emergency button with his large palm and then tearing my clothes off? I’ve never done anything remotely daring when it comes to sex. A bed works just fine to get the job done. I’d rather be comfortable. But the thought of my naked back being pressed to the cool aluminum wall while Jesse thrusts inside me has me breaking out in a cold sweat. I run a shaky hand over my damp brow and hope he doesn’t notice.

“What’s wrong?”

So much for not noticing.

Somehow my lips form a cross between a grimace and a smile. “I’m er... I’m famished.” I nod, repeatedly. “Long day at work. Lots to do,” I blabber.

The doors slowly part saving me from saying anything else nonsensical and we start down the hallway toward his place. He stops halfway down in front of one of the sleek black doors and pulls his keys out of the front pocket of his jeans. My stomach rolls uneasily. This ‘date,’ has us teetering on the precipice of a huge leap and entering his home is a defining moment. Crossing over this threshold is the first step in us becoming something official - but still unofficial because no one can know. Ugh.

Complications. I don’t like or want them in my life. Panic washes over me. Do I really want to do this?

“Lilah.” His hand on my arm draws me back to the present. “Look at me,” he orders.

My alarmed gaze sweeps up his broad chest to meet his calmer one. I know I must look like a frazzled mess right now. “No cold feet now. It’s just dinner.” He smiles, reassuringly. “I’ll take you home any time you’re ready.” He rubs my arm soothingly. “Okay?”

“Yeah, okay.”

He pushes the door open and ushers me through. The inside isn’t anything like I expected, but I’m not exactly sure what I did expect to see. Maybe pictures of half-naked women hanging on the walls? Or wrestling paraphernalia spread everywhere? Instead his walls are painted a warm shade of tan reminding me of a cup of coffee with a splash of cream. Any visible artwork is professional black and white pictures of the New York City skyline.

The thud of the door behind me resonates with a knell of finality. I’ve done it. I’m inside his den of debauchery. Should I be on my best behavior or give in and let the depravity begin?

“How about we start with some wine while I finish preparing dinner?” Jesse questions as if he’s answering my thoughts.

He’s inside my head now too? What the hell?

“I hope you like pot roast, potatoes and veggies. That’s what I made.”

“You made it?”

“Yeah, don’t sound so skeptical. I like to eat and unless I want to order out all the time, that means cooking for myself.”

“I get tired of all the takeout when we’re on the road. I’m not really crazy about cooking for myself though. It’s a lot of work for one person.”

“Well, you can cook for me anytime. Then it’s really like making enough for three people because I can eat a substantial amount.” He pours a glass of wine and hands it to me. I barely have a hold of it before I raise it to my lips and gulp half the liquid down. I hope it will calm my nerves and numb my fears. He fills my glass to the top once again with a wicked grin and grabs a beer from the fridge.

Sipping on my wine, I watch him comfortably maneuver around his large kitchen. He lifts the lid off a crockpot and places it to the side.

“You have a crockpot?” I question, a giggle bubbling from my lips.

“Yep I do and I’m guessing that you find that amusing for some reason.” He plates the roast and moves on to the potatoes and veggies, adding them all to a large platter.

“I’m sorry. I don’t know why I find it funny. My head can’t grasp ‘the Jesse Gunn’ doing something so domesticated.”

“But I’m not ‘the Jesse Gunn,’ Lilah. I’m just me. Plain old Jesse who lives like any other single guy my age. I do my own laundry and make my bed too.”

“Good point.” I nod. “Sorry. I should know that better than most. I’ve been around the wrestling world my entire life and being a Turner I should know better than to form preconceived notions about anyone. I’ve been subjected to that injustice myself.”

“No worries. I just want to make sure you know who you’re having dinner with. We’re just like any other couple out there.”

“Yeah, except we can’t be seen together, and no one can know.” I roll my eyes.

“Those are your rules, not mine. I don’t think we should hide it. It’s only a big deal if we make it one.” He busies himself grabbing plates and silverware.

“You’re crazy if you think my dad won’t have a problem with this, not to mention it will make things hella awkward at work.”

“I’m going to change the subject now. We can continue this conversation at a later date when we have some more insight into the situation.”

“You think time is going to give us a better perspective?”

“It always does.” He hands me a plate and silverware. “Help yourself. Where would you like to sit? We can use the island if that works? I eat at the coffee table most of the time.”

My eyes scan the space. His large couch has a giant coffee table in front of it, but the island makes more sense. “Here’s good.” I nod toward the large granite surface before setting my glass down on it. I add meat and all the fixings to my plate and climb up onto one of the stools. Studying Jesse as he piles food on his plate, I fight the smile that teases my lips. This guy can put food away like no one I’ve ever seen before. Then again, he’s a large guy, and it must take a lot of calories to fuel that muscular physique.

His head swings over his shoulder as if he feels the weight of my stare. “Don’t wait for me; dig in.”

My eyes drop to my plate as my face flushes with embarrassment at being caught. I was practically drooling and not at the pot roast. Fingers gripping the fork, I focus on the meal in front of me. Taking the first bite, I’m not sure what to expect. When a single man says he can cook, I usually take it with a grain of salt. His idea of edible and mine, might be vastly different. But, this time I’m pleasantly surprised. The meat is flavorful and tender. “Mmm, this is delicious.”

He slides onto the stool next to mine. “I’m glad you like it. It’s almost impossible to screw up cooking in a crockpot.”

“How did you find time to do this? Didn’t you have practice?”

“Yeah, I put it all in before I left and cooked it on low.”

“I like a guy who plans ahead.”

“You’ve already seen my history and gamer geek sides, my cooking and time management skills. Watch out. You’re gonna fall for me, I’m a total catch.”

My stomach sinks at his prophetic words. Too late. I already am.

Once dinner’s finished we settle side by side on the couch. He wraps his thick bicep behind my head and tugs me closer until I’m leaning against his chest. We relax and watch episodes of Keeping Up with the Kardashians, one of my guilty pleasures. Jesse’s never seen it before, so I give him a running narration as we watch to catch him up on who’s who. He seems to grasp the family dynamic quickly, way faster than I did my first time.

“Are you sure you’ve never seen this before?”

“Yeah, I don’t have time to watch reality television.”

“You’re catching on quickly for a newbie.” I raise my head off his chest and aim a questioning glance his way. He smiles and the dimple on the left side of his cheek momentarily distracts me. “Hey, nice try Gunn, but I’m impervious to the powers of your dimple.”

He barks out a laugh. “What are you talking about?”

“You know.” I poke him in his rock-hard stomach. “All the ladies fall for your stupid dimple, but not this one.” I point at my chest and raise my chin proudly.

“Well that’s disappointing,” he states.

“What is?”

“That you’re not falling for it. You’re the only one I want to like it.”

“Oh... why?”

“My smile is different when it’s directed at you. It’s genuine and heartfelt. No one else sees the same version that I give to you. It’s solely yours.” His fingers caress down my cheek like rain trailing lazily down a window pane. “One of these days you’re going to realize how I feel about you and then you’ll stop questioning my motives for everything I do.”

I’m speechless. My mouth opens and closes three times and still nothing comes out.

“How about some dessert?” Jesse asks, saving me from my obvious lack of composure.

“Yeah, that sounds great.”

He slips his arm from behind me. “I made you something special, something I know you like.” He disappears in the kitchen for a minute before returning with a small plate of chocolate covered strawberries and some napkins.

“You made these?” I can’t keep the surprise from my tone.

“I did,” he nods proudly. “Try one.” He holds the pointed end to my lips and I sink my teeth in. He pops the rest into his mouth and we both chew them up.

“That was so good.”

“Want another?” His deep voice sends tingles through me. I think I’d say yes to whatever he asked me if he used that same tone.

“Yes, please.”

He raises another to my mouth and waits for me to bite half. The juice from the strawberry runs down the corner of my mouth toward my chin. He catches it with his thumb and then sucks the sticky residue from it. “I bet you taste better than strawberries.” He winks. “And I plan to find out.”

“Now?” I sputter nervously.

He laughs. “No, not now. Unless you’re offering?”

“No,” I shout and then mentally kick myself for sounding so against the idea. We’re two consenting adults and can do whatever we want.

“Come on. I’d better get you home.”

Crap. I ruined whatever chance there was of something happening tonight.