Millie
I WAS WATCHING BY THE window, without trying to look like I was. I didn’t want to appear too eager, or like I was waiting for Jackson with my nose pressed against the glass of our storefront.
So, instead, I was half hiding behind the door to the back, watching like a creepy stalker.
I saw him pull up, park, and hop out of his truck. As he rounded the front, he wiped his palms against the side of his slacks, then pushed his glasses up his nose.
He’s nervous.
I took a deep breath, a small smile playing on my lips, calm now that I knew he was feeling exactly the same way as I was, and walked fully out into the storefront and to the door.
Jackson’s head came up as he caught my movement and he broke into a happy grin. He opened the door as I approached and held it so I could walk out past him. My arm brushed his hand as I passed, and I felt a tingle of anticipation run through me.
“Hi,” I said softly, a little shyly.
“Hi,” he replied, his tone also soft.
We stood there for a moment, on the sidewalk in front of my business, grinning at each other and taking the other in, then Jackson took my hand in his and brought it to his lips. When he brushed them against the back of my hand, my belly fluttered, and I allowed myself to enjoy every second of that moment.
“I can pick you up from your house,” Jackson said, his hand still holding mine. “I didn’t even think of it before, but I hope you didn’t have to go home, then come back here to meet me.”
“Actually, you are picking me up from home,” I replied, a small laugh escaping unwittingly at his confused face as he looked back in through the window. “Upstairs,” I clarified. “There are four studio apartments up there. Dru, Tasha, and I all live in them, and use the fourth for storage. They aren’t big, but it works for us, at least for now.”
“Oh, wow, that’s pretty cool,” Jackson said, his head falling back as he looked up at the window that led to my apartment. He brought his head back down to catch my eye and asked, “Are you hungry?”
“Starved,” I admitted, and I was. I hadn’t been able to eat lunch. I was too excited about the date, and wanted to make sure everything was done and Claire was fully briefed, so while I was out with Jackson, I could focus totally on us.
“Well, luckily, we only have to cross the street,” Jackson said, gesturing jauntily toward Prime Beef, making me laugh at his silliness. He released my hand and crooked his elbow so I could tuck my arm though his. “Shall we?”
“Let’s,” I said with an exaggerated nod and a laugh.
We marched across the street, laughing the whole way. When we reached the entrance, Jackson paused and put a finger to his lips, then straightened up to full height and made a show of becoming serious.
One more laugh escaped me, but he shook his head with mock sternness. I nodded and did my best to put on a straight face as well.
I looked him over as I pulled myself together, and was struck by how handsome he was wearing dark slacks, a maroon button-down shirt, and a tie with small busts of Shakespeare decorating it. His hair was styled, but he had a small cowlick sticking out at the back, which only made him look more attractive somehow.
“Everything okay?” Jackson asked when he realized I was no longer playing along, but rather standing in front of the restaurant staring at him.
I felt my blush rise as I answered, “You look very handsome.”
Jackson’s eyes lit with pleasure, and he gave a half smile as he bent dramatically at the waist. When he straightened, he said, “And you, Millie, look gorgeous, although, you always look gorgeous. I’m sorry, I didn’t say that right away. I was just so nervous, I forgot myself and started acting like a dork to cover my nerves.”
I took a step closer to him, put my hand on his cheek, and assured him, “You’re not a dork. I love your ability to have fun, be silly, wear a Shakespeare tie. I want you to feel comfortable with me and always be yourself. And, I’ll let you in on a little secret . . . I was nervous too, and you calmed my nerves.”
Jackson lowered his head, and my breath caught as I waited for his lips to touch mine. When they did, they did so only briefly, but oh, so sweetly. They brushed across mine once, then twice, before he pulled back slowly and smiled down at me.
“Ready?” he asked again, and I nodded somewhat dreamily, causing his smile to widen.
We shifted and he pulled open the door, then held it for me as we went inside.
Prime Beef was a classic steakhouse, with lots of rich wood, low lighting, and the beautiful sound of a saxophone playing throughout the room.
I hadn’t eaten there before, since we never really had time, plus, anytime I’d seen the owner, he was scowling, so I’d never really had the urge to be a patron in his establishment. I had to admit though, if the food was anything like the décor, our experience was going to be fabulous.
I was beyond surprised to see the owner of Prime Beef, and the scowly face, walking toward us with a large grin, his hands outstretched.
“I thought I was going to have to call the fire department to turn the hose on you, Jacks,” the tall, striking man said as he approached.
“Shut it,” Jackson replied, taking his offered hand, then pulling him in for one of those man half-hug clap on the back things. “How’ve you been?”
“Pretty good, ready for football to start back up; you?”
“Great. School is good and Kayla is awesome,” he replied, then he put his arm around my shoulder and said proudly, “And, this is Millie. Millie, this is Jericho, the owner of Prime Beef and my fantasy football nemesis.”
“It’s lovely to meet you, your restaurant is gorgeous,” I gushed, holding out my hand.
Jericho turned to me, took me in, then his welcoming smile dropped. I guessed he wasn’t a total jerk, because he did take my offered hand briefly, rather than leaving me hanging, but when he muttered, “One of the three sisters,” and continued to look like he’d taken a bite of something rotten, I wondered what we’d done to earn that look.