Page 42 of When Forever Comes

“You look beautiful,” Rhett had said as his gaze raked over me. He pulled out my chair and I sat down.

“Thank you.”

He made his way to his side of the table and took his seat. When he smiled at me, the faint lines around his eyes became more pronounced.

“I’m so happy to be here with you tonight.” He reached across the table and without hesitation, I put my hand in his.

“Me too.”

When the waiter came over to take our order, I expected Rhett to pull his hand back, but he didn’t. Instead, he stroked my palm with the rough pad of his thumb, sending sparks up my arm.

Rhett motioned for me to order first, and he earned another point for the gentleman category. I ordered a chicken salad and he ordered a steak fajita.

I glanced down at our hands; his tan skin was a dark contrast to my pale tone. That’s when I noticed his scars. The back of his hand was covered in white patches of skin, mostly over his knuckles. As much as I wanted to ask him about them, I didn’t. That’s not exactly a great ice breaker for a first date.

Instead, I said, “Thank you for keeping me busy when I probably would have gone stir crazy.”

He lifted a dark eyebrow. “Oh, so now I’m just a distraction for you?” Rhett’s lips tipped up in a teasing smile.

“A good distraction.” I pursed my lips to the side, trying to come up with the best explanation. “A short, vacation fling.”

Rhett released my hand and sat up straighter, all playfulness leaving his face. “You’re not a fling for me, Dana Swann.”

I lifted my hands in a placating gesture. “It was a joke. I’m not a fling kinda gal.”

An awkward silence stretched between us. Unable to meet Rhett’s eyes, I took my cloth napkin from the table and carefully placed it on my lap, paying way more attention and care to it than necessary.

“Good.”

My eyes snapped up to meet his. His face was still all hard lines and a handsome kind of terrifying, but some of the tension that had descended over us lifted.

“If this isn’t a fling for you, what made you want to go out with me?” I asked, folding my hands.

“Diving in headfirst, huh?” he asked, clearly amused. Any remaining tension vanished.

I shrugged. “I’m not a toe dipper.” The words were out before I could think them through.

“A toe dipper?” He tried, and failed, to fight his laugh.

“Yeah, like you know people who go swimming and want to dip their toe in the water to see if it’s too hot or cold before they get in?”

“I guess,” he said as more of a question than a statement.

“Well, I’ve never been that way. There’s no toe dipping, I’m either all in or I’m out. No matter the consequences. I’ll either freeze or get burned. Risks make things more exciting.”

“At the pool or in life?” he asked.

“Both.”

Rhett stared at me, studying me as if he was picking through the various pieces of my brain and trying to figure out who I am. It made me squirm. I took several large gulps of water, my mouth suddenly parched.

“That’s probably why I like you.”

I blinked in surprise then narrowed my eyes. “I haven’t figured out why I like you yet.”

Rhett’s confidence never wavered. “That’s easy.”

“Yeah?”

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