As if he was waiting for my total submission, he tears his mouth from mine, denying me his kiss, and I’m left panting. “That was an appetizer,” he declares, his voice a low, sultry rasp. “And you were right. Alone is better, which is exactly how I planned to spend this night. Until I saw you and alone wasn’t better anymore. And now I know why. You want what I want.”
“Which is what?”
“No complications.”
Relief and the promise of the escape I now know I’d hoped for rushes over me. “Yes. Yes, but you keep—”
“Thinking about kissing you. That’s all I could do sitting at that table. And I should warn you. When dinner is done, I’m going to do my damn best to convince you to go somewhere else with me where we can be alone.” He covers my hand with his. “Come. I’m going to feed you, because if I have my way, you’re going to need your energy.”
He starts walking, taking me with him, and I grab his arm. “Wait.” He pauses and turns to look at me, those intense gray eyes of his stirring a giant dose of nerves in my belly that I shove aside. “I don’t want to go back out there.”
He narrows his gaze on me, his big hands settling on my shoulders. “What are you saying?”
“I prefer somewhere else,” I say, and my voice is remarkably steady considering I’m so out of my comfort zone with this man and my actions tonight that I don’t know what I’m doing. But what I do know is that I don’t want to spend the one night I have with this incredible man at a dinner table.
He stares down at me, his expression unreadable, seconds ticking like hours before he asks, “You’re sure?”
“Yes,” I confirm, and it’s a relief that I mean it, that nothing dictates this choice but my own wants and needs. “I’m sure.”
Again, his reply is slow, and he seems to weigh my words before one of his cheeks presses to mine, his breath a warm tease on my ear and neck as he whispers, “I want you to leave with me, but be clear. That means I will fuck you every possible way, with the full intent of ensuring that I’m the man you compare all others to.”
Every nerve ending I own is suddenly on fire with the bold words that I know are meant to test my resolve. I do not intend to fail. Not this night. “You can try,” I whisper.
He eases back to look at me, the gray of his eyes now flecked with pale blue fire. “You, Emily, are a contradiction I cannot wait to explore.” I don’t have to ask what he means. I am a contradiction, and in ways he can’t begin to understand. He takes my hands again. “Let’s pay the bill and get the hell out of here.”
“Yes,” I agree, barely speaking the word before he’s walking again and this time I let me lead me forward.
Together, we enter the dining room, side by side, walking through the rows of tables toward the hostess stand, and I am more affected by my hand in his than anything else before this. It’s the unity I think, the sense of being with someone, a façade of course, and that alone cuts deep. I am not with him. I am not with anyone at all and yet tonight I am pretending I am. Maybe that’s the appeal of one-night stands. You get to live the fantasy, experience human touch. Pretend you matter to someone, and them to you, until it’s over.
We’re almost to the hostess stand when abruptly, Shane stops walking. A moment later, he’s in front of me, his back to the entryway, blocking it from my view, his hands on my arms. “My father is here and he’s the last person I want to see right now. I’m going to grab a waitress and pay the bill. Wait for me at the back door.”
Stunned, confused, I stammer, “I … yes … okay.” Embarrassment follows, and I turn on my heel, intending to dart away, only to have him snag my hand, and angle me back toward him. “I’ll be right there,” he says, his voice thick with promise.
Unable to process the wave of emotions overwhelming me, I manage a choppy nod and he releases me. I pretty much lunge forward, and still, the short walk feels more eternal than his long, gray-eyed stares. He doesn’t want to be seen with me. He doesn’t want to introduce me to his father, and that is fine, I tell myself, but it feels bad. Really bad. Why would he bring me to one of his regular places, if this is how he was going to react if we ran into someone he knows? Why do I care? It doesn’t matter. I do. Illogical as it might be, I do care. What was I thinking coming here in the first place? Low profile went right out the window and it’s time to get myself back under control.
Rounding the wall to the hallway again, I continue onward and cut the corner where I spy a BATHROOM sign right next to one that reads the EXIT. Exit wins. Double-stepping, I close the distance between me and it, hoping to escape before Shane follows, if he follows. That he might not is a humiliation I really can’t stomach right now. I reach the door and forcefully shove the heavy steel open, finding myself on a street with mostly retail stores that are now closed. I scan for someplace to disappear to, not about to be some sort of obligation to a man I barely know. I cut left when I spot an open coffee shop.
I all but run toward it, a gust of chilly wind lifting my hair from my neck, and I swear this Texas girl pretending to be a Cali girl will never get used to chilly summer nights. Reaching the entrance, I glance right without meaning to, at the same moment the back door of the restaurant opens. My heart leaps and I quickly enter the coffee shop, traveling the narrow path between the vacant round wooden tables.