To what end or purpose had me waiting for Megan to take her on a date? A date? When had I ever taken a girl out? Never.

I rubbed at my jaw, considering sending her a text and calling this off. Yes, I wanted her, but having and wanting were two different things.

She appeared through the archway, walking down the path to my truck. She wore jeans and a top that covered most of her. The coat she wore covered the rest. So why did I find her so fucking sexy, even more so than I did when I’d seen her in short dresses?

Shit, I probably should have gotten out the car or something. Her smile had frozen my brain. I reached over and opened the door just as she was reaching for it.

“Hey,” she said. Though she sported a grin, she sounded almost shy.

I nodded at her and waited for her to buckle in before I drove off.

“So you’re not going to speak to me?”

What the fuck was I supposed to say? Seeing her all lovely had me tongue tied. If she’d come in and told me we weren’t going to have sex, that would have been material I could work with.

“Are you warm enough?”

Her smile flattened. Instead of answering my question, she asked me one. “Are you going to be a donkey’s butt all night?”

Damn, I’d fucked up when my question had come out sounding sarcastic. She thought I was talking about all her layers, but I’d wanted to know if I should turn up the heat in the car. But what had she called me?

“Donkey’s butt?”

She gave me a casual shrug of her shoulders. “I don’t curse.”

That made me laugh out loud. When she only glared at me, I was more puzzled than ever by her. It had started as a challenge. Though I wanted to bang her, was that all? It didn’t feel like it. I shook my head knowing that’s all I could ever have.

“No, you’re not going to take me back?” she asked.

“What?”

Had she been talking?

“I said you might as well take me back if you’re going to be a pile of poo all night.”

Pile of poo? I chuckled again. “Is there something wrong with saying shit?”

She studied me before answering.

“No, but why curse when it’s not necessary? People say it far too much and it loses its impact.”

I gave her a quick glance. “And you think people will take you seriously when you say pile of poo?”

“That’s the thing; I don’t say things to impress other people. I have to live my life with no regrets. If I choose to say poo—” I waited for her to say, shit. “—instead of the other thing, it’s my right. I don’t need you judging me.”

I lifted my hand palm up because she was right.

“No judgment. It’s cute.”

“Good, now where are you taking me?”

I didn’t bother to respond because we were there. The strip mall we pulled into didn’t look like much, but one of the best restaurants I’d ever eaten at in my life operated here.

“Chinese takeout?”

The confusion on her face only amplified the disappointment in her voice. Note: She didn’t like Chinese food. It took a second before the right half of my brain caught up with the other. Why the hell would I be noting that? This is a one and done, remember?

I got out. Reluctant as she was, she’d stayed put, giving me the opportunity to open her door and help her out. At least I’d gotten that right. Though the stupefied expression on her face probably meant she hadn’t noticed that I’d acted like a gentleman for once.

She slipped her fingers into mine instead of pulling away after she’d gotten out. The way she clutched at me told me she was nervous, so I held on, or so I told myself. I walked us past the Chinese food joint and through a nondescript door. The restaurant was a little-known gem that those who were lucky to find carried like treasure they didn’t want to share.

As soon as we walked in, a man with a white shirt and apron that covered black pants held out a hand in greeting to Megan.

“Buona sera.” When she looked lost, he said, “Good evening.”

His eyes finally met mine, “Ciao!”

“Ciao, Lorenzo.”

He nodded and winked at me. “Let me get you the best in the house.”

We were led into the tiny place to a back corner—the other tables were filled. I’d called ahead and made a reservation.

Lorenzo and I went way back. My father had been Russian, but my mother had been Italian, and Dad never let me forget Mom or the heritage we shared. We came here often enough that we were on a first-name basis with the owner and the staff.

Lorenzo held out her chair. Unsure of protocol, I waited until she sat before I took a seat. Lorenzo told us he’d be back with water and bread while we looked over the menu.

“Wow, this is better than I thought.”

“You know what they say: Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

Though she still looked suspicious. Once she tasted the food, she would probably offer me her soul to bring her back here.

I watched her peruse the menu. I already knew what I was going to have.

“You know, staring at me is kind of creepy.”

“Not from where I’m sitting.”

She put her menu down. “I’m serious. Why are you staring? Do I have something on my teeth?”

I’m staring because I want to kiss you before I fill that pretty mouth of yours with my cock. Then I want to bend you over this table and fuck you until you get that orgasm you want.

“I’m curious what you’ll order and if I’m right,” I said instead.

“You think you’ll know what I'll pick?”

Her challenge was cute. Time to up the ante.

“I dare you to try me,” I said.

When her lips curved in amusement, I had her. Little did she know that I’d spotted her a few times in the café with anything Italian on her tray.

“So you want to bet me?”

I tapped my index and middle finger on the table as I spoke. “Call it what you want, but if I’m right, you’ll kiss me right here and right now.”

She pointed to the menu. “Have you seen this? There is no way you can get this right.”

I tilted my head and gave her a wicked grin. “Then what do you have to lose?”

“Fine. But how will I know what you think I’ll order?”

I snagged my phone from my pocket, typed, and then placed it flat on the table.

“I’ll hit send after you order.”

She angled her head, probably feeling pretty sure of herself. “Fine. You have your bet. But if I win, you can’t go out with anyone else for a week.”

I cracked a smug smile. “You want me all to yourself.”

The flickering candle between us spotlighted the delight on her face. There was something about this girl, and wanting to make her smile warned me I should back off. But I couldn’t help myself. It was as if I were spelled by her.

“Don’t let your ego go to your head. A bet goes both ways. It would be interesting to watch you turn down every girl who approaches you for a week.”

I cocked my head. “I turn down girls all the time.”

Lorenzo approached. “What can I get you all tonight?” he asked, while placing water and bread on the table.

She looked up and pointed as she spoke. “I’ll have the Shrimp Scampi.”

Lorenzo turned to me. “The usual?” I nodded. “Filet Mignon with Risotto?” I nodded again. “Perfetto. Wine?”

“Yes. Your best.”

Wine wasn’t my normal drink, so I’d let Lorenzo choose. Megan gave her silent approval as well.

Once he departed with our menus, Megan eyed my phone.

I turned it over and woke it up. Then I hit send. Her phone buzzed and she stared at it in amazement.

“How did you know?” Her eyes twinkled as she wondered if I was clairvoyant.

“The few times it’s been on the menu in the café, you’ve gotten it.”

“But how? …Wait. Are you watching me?”

I could lie, but why? “Gorgeous girl walks in a room, all eyes are on her.”

Though the lighting was dim, I spied her cheeks flush as she squirmed in her seat.

“Now it’s your turn to pay up.”

The whites of her eyes expanded. “You’re serious. Here with everyone watching?”

I glanced around. The tables were fairly close considering the small space, but everyone was engrossed with their own conversations, not us.

“Are you reneging?”

Something about my dare put fire in her eyes.

“Fine.”

She scooted her chair back some, lifted that lovely ass of hers out it, and bent over the table toward me. I met her halfway, ready for her sweet mouth on mine.

On contact I wanted more. When I cupped the back of her head, she gasped. I took advantage and snaked my tongue out to taste her. I was instantly hard. The need to have her in my bed grew with every second of our connection.

Though I could feel eyes on us, I didn’t give a shit. Still, I let her go. She panted and sat, not looking at me. I knew she was just as affected as I was.

The question was how I would keep my hands off her for the rest of the night.