Even to my own ears, what I’m saying sounds like too much too fast. I’m basically implying to Clark that I’m falling in love with him. We only officially met for the first time two days ago, and this is our first date. The first date for either of us in years. Yet, I can tell by the soft look in his eyes that we’re one-hundred percent on the same page.

“Sydney is with your friend, Amy, for the whole night, right?” I nod eagerly, hoping this is leading where I want it to.

Clark swallows audibly, obviously nervous if the way his leg just started bouncing under the table next to mine is any indication. “Do you maybe want to come over to my house? We could watch a movie or something.”

“Would watching a movie include snuggling?”

“Yes!” he exclaims. Then quickly glances at the tables around us apologetically for being so loud. “If you want.” His hopeful eyes gaze at me across the table like he still hasn’t realized I’m a sure thing.

Grabbing his knee under the table, I exert enough pressure for him to quit bouncing his leg while rubbing over his kneecap. “Oh, I want,” I purr. His eyes widen before he starts searching for Shane.

Upon catching his eye, he raises his hand discreetly for the check, which Shane promptly brings, retreats with Clark’s credit card, and then returns with the sales slip and a small black container. “Oh, we don’t have any leftovers,” Clark says, glancing down at our table which had already been cleared.

“I know. It’s a piece of turtle cheesecake with a caramel sauce drizzle. It’s from me for you to take home with you and share. As a thank you for… for being so nice and for inspiring me.” Then he pivots on his heel and moves quickly to another table.

“You did a nice thing for him, Bailey.”

“Hmm… I’m happy to help.” We already argued over who was paying while we were eating, and Clark had won for tonight. I don’t comment that him leaving Shane a tip that exceeds our bill is a pretty awesome thing to do, too.

Once he signs the restaurant copy and sticks it back into the binder, he grabs his receipt, and comes around to hold my chair out. I’d noticed the other day that Clark is several inches taller than me, but standing in the dimly lit restaurant after a truly phenomenal date, his height and his closeness cause anticipation to shoot through me. “I wonder what made him think we were going home together tonight?” I ask as Clark grabs my hand and leads me to the coat closet.

“I don’t know. It’s probably either the fact I couldn’t take my eyes off you all night, orrrr, it may be the fact you didn’t take yours off me.”

As he holds my coat so I can slip my arms in the sleeve, I tilt my head back toward him and blink my lashes. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Mhmm, come on you. Let’s go to my house and relax. You can meet Snickers.”

“Snickers?”

He threads his fingers back through mine as we stroll through the restaurant door—nodding a polite thank you to the hostess who jumps to hold it open for us—and out into the parking lot. I pull him in the direction of my car as he explains. “Snickers is our golden retriever. It was one of the suggestions that the doctors had for Todd when he was about two and still having trouble connecting. The only people he didn’t cry if they touched him were me, Bernadette, and her husband. It took being around people repetitively for him to adjust to their presence at all. They thought maybe he’d be able to bond to an animal easier.”

“And it worked?”

“That dog transformed our lives. Todd was smitten with him from day one. They’re the best of friends. Snickers even sleeps in his room. When Todd was still in the crib he slept right under it, and once he was in his big boy bed, Snickers claimed the end. It’s probably one of the more helpful suggestions they’ve given us.”

“How is Snickers with kittens?”

“What?”

I shake my head ruefully. “Sydney had to have a pet. I got her a fish tank first hoping it would cure her desire for an animal to take care of, but she said it was boring. We live in a condo, and it’s very nice, but there’s no back yard, so a cat seemed like the best option. She—Penelope, that is—is only seven months old and playful. Very playful.”

As I open my door, Clark steps in close so I tilt my head up to meet his eyes. “Snickers has never been around a kitten, but he’s a good dog, so I’m sure he’ll be fine. He’s always been wonderful with Todd. You know what I like, though?” When I shake my head, he continues, “That you’re wondering how our animals are going to get along.”

“Well, we already know our kids like each other. Practically speaking, that only leaves our pets, and if you guys want to come over to our house one night, I want you to be able to bring Snickers.”

“Thank you,” he whispers.

“You’re welcome,” I say back just as softly.

“I like you, Bailey.”

I can feel the color infusing my face again, but I answer, anyway. “I like you, too.” His eyes drop to my lips, but before anything happens, he steps back from me and points in the opposite direction of the parking lot.

“I’m over there. I’ll go get my car and pull up behind you. Just follow me, okay?”

My “okay” is barely audible, so I clear my throat before trying again. “Okay.”

He smiles and takes off running across the parking lot. His grey slacks hug his thighs in the most delicious ways, and all of the thoughts I had of seeing him in his various workout attire at the school flit through my mind. Good lord, the man is hot. Dropping into my seat, I start my car and wait for him to pull around.

The drive is a quick one, and as much as it feels like we were at the restaurant forever, it was only a couple of hours, so it’s not that late. Well, it’s past the kids’ bedtime, but for an adult night, it’s not that late. While parking in the street in front of his house, I take in the neighborhood. Most of the houses appear to be modest split-levels with well-maintained yards. This is actually one of the neighborhoods that I drove through when I was thinking about buying a house. It’s only down the street from my condo, which makes sense since the kids are attending the same preschool program hosted by the elementary they’ll be going to.

Clark’s house is painted a blue I’d associate with the colors of the Caribbean with white shutters and trim, porch railing, and stairs. It’s absolutely perfect. Exactly the house I foresee for Sydney and me. He walks back down the driveway toward my car, so I jump out and meet him halfway to take his hand. The porchlight on the house next door turns off and Clark shakes his head, grinning at me. “You coming home with me probably made Bernadette’s night. She must have waited up for me. I can only imagine the cackling I’m going to hear tomorrow about you coming home with me.”

“Oh, should we have gone to my house? I don’t want to cause problems.”

“Nope.” He squeezes my hand tighter as we go up the stairs. “This is perfect.”

As soon as he opens the door, he explains, “Normally, when you walk in you’ll be greeted by Snickers. I forgot that Bernadette was keeping him for the night, so I guess you’ll meet him next time.”

“I tug on his arm right as we reach the edge of his living room, and as he turns toward me, I say, “I like the sound of that. Next time.”

“Me, too.” His eyes again flick to my lips, but bounce immediately back to my eyes.

“Let’s get something to drink, and then we can sit down on the couch and share our dessert.”

“That sounds good.” Clark goes to grab us water bottles and forks while I carry our dessert into the living room and look around. The telltale signs of a home with a child in it are everywhere. There’s a little table with two chairs stacked with coloring books and a crayon box. Boxes of blocks line down one wall, then there’s a shelf full of… huh! It’s full of puzzles. As Clark walks back in, I point toward the shelf. “Todd enjoys puzzles?”

His lips tilt up proudly. “I’ve always searched for things that he’ll enjoy doing with me. He does like when I to read to him at night, but most of his play is solitary. However, I discovered quite by accident that he loves puzzles. He’s fascinated watching them come together, and it’s something he needs help with…” He shrugs his shoulders. “We’re kind of addicted to them now. I even buy ones he couldn’t possibly do on his own and they take days, but we use the kitchen table and eat in here. We turn on music and, I guess, it’s become our thing.”

Clark is a personal trainer; his body is firm and lean. There’s no question it’s sexy, but it’s not half as hot as the love he has for his son. Deciding to take matters into my own hands, I plop down on the couch and rub the cushion right next to mine. “Are you coming to sit down or what?”

Clark’s eyes narrow suspiciously, but he walks across the room and scoots in next to me, setting the waters on the coffee table in the process. “What are you up to, Bailey?”

“I thought it was time for dessert.” He hands me a fork, which I immediately lean forward and place on the table next to the waters. Leaning back, I wink at him. “I think we should share one.”

A slow, sexy smirk crosses his face. He opens the container he’s been holding and scoops a small bite of cheesecake onto the fork, then brings it to my lips. I open them just enough to get the fork in, slowly pulling off it with the cheesecake in my mouth. Before he can look away, I flick my tongue out to lick my bottom lip slowly. “Mmm… it’s delicious. You want a bite?” With hooded eyes, he nods at me, so I grab the fork out of his hand, scoop a small bite for him and hold it to his mouth.

Clark reaches up and grabs the fork out of my hand, places it in the container, and leans to the side to place it on the coffee table, never once breaking eye contact. “That’s not what I want a bite of.”

“Finally,” I say on a sigh just before his lips meet mine. He takes his time, stroking across my bottom lip with the tip of his tongue, not even seeking entrance. When I can’t take it anymore, I part my lips in hopes he’ll take the hint. But he doesn’t, instead he backs off leaving but a breath between us and uses his tongue to trace my top lip, as well. The level of attention he lavishes on them spikes my desire.

After several minutes of that, I’m panting and breathless, hungry to actually know his taste. Frustrating me, he pulls back a hair farther. “Hey.”

“Hi,” I murmur back. His lips tilt up at the corners as he comes back in, leaning down to wrap both arms around my waist to pull my body closer as he closes his lips over mine. His tongue moves inside my mouth with the same unhurried strokes, tangling with my tongue and controlling the speed. It registers somewhere in the back of my mind that it’s freaking sexy to have him explore my mouth so slowly, like we have all the time in the world. The thought makes me smile into our kiss, and I feel the answering smile against my mouth. And he’s right, it’s only us with no kids for the night.

“Hey, Bailey,” he asks breaking the kiss.

“Hmm…”

“What’s that ringing?”

“What? What are you—” Then I hear it, too. My ringtone for Amy.

Frantically I pull back from Clark to reach into my pocket for my phone. Half noticing in the process that his dick is tenting his pants. Glad it’s not just me who’s hard as a rock is the last random thought I have before answering. “Hello.”

“Bailey, I hope I’m not interrupting anything, but Sydney’s lying on the couch and she says her belly hurts.”

Clearing my throat, I try to come out of this haze of desire Clark’s put me in. “Uh, did she eat too much?”

“No, she was fine when she first laid down, we read her a couple of stories and she was still fine, then she started saying her belly hurt and she should probably go home. We tried to put off calling you, hoping that she’d fall asleep before she played it all the way to needing to talk to you, but, she’s still awake and now she’s crying. It’s kind of freaking us out, honestly.”

“Oh, no. Can you put her on the phone?” Clark brows furrow on his forehead, so I whisper, “Sorry, Sydney’s not feeling well.”

He nods, but before he can respond, I hear my baby’s crying voice, “Daddy.”

“Hey, baby girl.”

“Daddy, I don’t feel well. You better come get me.”

“Okay, honey, but it’s late, maybe if—”

“No. I think the only thing that’ll make me feel better is my bed,” she says, her voice thick with tears.

“Alright, honey. I-I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

The phone goes dead. I stare down at my cell for a minute, then taking a deep breath I attempt to explain, but Clark beats me to it. “Your little girl needs you; you have to go. I understand.”

“I’m sorry. I was having such a good time. I hate running out on you.” I stare straight into his eyes willing him to see the apology, but I should’ve known that wasn’t necessary. What I see reflected back is compassion.

“Bailey, if you didn’t run out of here to get your daughter, you wouldn’t be the guy I’m falling for.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Smiling at him, I ask, “Call me tomorrow?”

“Of course. You couldn’t stop me.” He smiles back and holds out his hand. “Let me put my number in your phone, and then you can text me.”

We exchange numbers, I take a big bite of cheesecake for the road, and after a quick, but thorough, kiss I run out of the most amazing first date to go get my daughter.