Page 27 of Make You Mine

“We could have walked,” she stated as she buckled her seatbelt. “It’s close enough.”

“Would you rather?” I asked, trying to gauge her mood. She glanced up at me, a small, appreciative smile on her lips.

“Kind of. I’m a bit nervous,” she admitted, her voice a soft murmur. “Maybe the walk will clear my head before we get there.”

“I’m nervous too,” I admitted. “This feels like—I don’t even know what it feels like, if I’m being honest.”

“I don’t either.” Her eyes met mine across the console. “But I still want to have dinner with you.”

“Let’s walk,” I decided. “Stay put.” Walking there and back would give me more time with her.

I got out, rounded the car, and opened her door, offering her my hand and keeping hold of it as she got out. I didn’t want to let go. “May I hold your hand? Like this is a real date?”

“Do you want to?” Shy eyes met mine, then quickly looked away.

I squeezed her hand slightly, feeling the warmth and softness of her skin. “It would be good practice, don’t you think?”

“Yeah. Good idea. I reserved the corner table in the back. It’s pretty private. We can ease our way into this thing.”

This thing.

Whatever this thing turned out to be, I was into it.

The evening was cool, and the sky was dotted with twinkling stars peeking through the wispy clouds. Our footsteps echoed softly against the sidewalk in a gentle rhythm that soothed our simmering nerves.

We walked in comfortable silence. She was gorgeous in the early evening twilight. It felt almost magical out here. It feltreal.

The Honeybrook Inn was just down the street, but every step felt significant. I stole glances at her, noticing her hair ruffling in the slight breeze and how the old-fashioned street lamps cast her in a golden glow. The way her lips curled into a slight smile when she thought I wasn’t watching sent my heart racing. She was beyond beautiful.

“This place is bigger when you walk up to it,” I remarked as we reached the Inn’s parking lot entrance. “Driving by doesn’t do it justice.”

We stopped at the archway that led into the parking lot, and she turned to look up at me.

“Oh, yeah. It’s huge, over fifty acres. You’re going to love the restaurant. I already know what I’m getting.”

“I do too,” I said without thinking.

She tilted her head. “I thought this was your first time here.”

“Oh, it is. I always look at the menu before I try a new place. Otherwise, I get lost in all the choices and take forever to order. It’s embarrassing.”

“You’re cute.”

“I am far from cute. I have a terrible reputation as a grouchy hardass divorce attorney, I’ll have you know.”

She laughed and we continued walking, our hands brushing against each other, until I grabbed hers again and held it tight.

“If you say so. You’ve been nothing but sweet to me.”

“Of course. Who could ever be mean to you?”

Her face fell briefly before she caught herself and plastered on a smile. “I can think of a couple of people,” she murmured. “I need to toughen up.”

I stopped and turned to face her, catching the hint of vulnerability in her expression. “There’s nothing wrong with being soft. It means you care, and that’s a rare quality.”

She looked up at me, her eyes searching mine. “Maybe, but it also means people think they can walk all over me. Like I said, I need to toughen up.”

“You will do no such thing. You’ll stay soft. And I will beat the living shit out of anyone who makes you lose that smile.”

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