Page 60 of Good Girl's Guide to Love
“Well, then,” Stella says, sliding up next to me. “Maybe the sundress was the right call. You two kids have fun tonight. Don’t do anything Quinn wouldn’t do.”
“Right this way, Mr. Kincaid.”
Linc places his hand on the small of my back as we follow the hostess to the booth in a low-lit, five-star restaurant just off of Broadway. We’re seated against a window—which I’m guessing is on purpose—but I can’t complain. Not with the view of the Cumberland River at dusk.
“Welcome,” our server says. “Can I start you both off with a cocktail? Martini? A craft beer? Bourbon?”
I shake my head. “Can I get a club soda with a splash of cranberry and a lime? And a water with lemon, please?”
Our waitress just smiles and nods. “Absolutely. And for you sir?”
“Just water,” Linc says.
“No problem. Please let me know if you have any questions on the menu. And our appetizer special tonight is Oysters Rockefeller. We also have a dry-aged prime ribeye with a roasted bone marrow butter and charred cipollini onions.”
Our waitress is a few steps away before I watch Linc open his menu. I do the same, wondering what the heck I’m going to eat, because it’s not whatever she talked about. I’m not exactly a fancy eater, but normally I can find something that I know what it is and might even enjoy it.
But as I read through the menu today, and yesterday, and the night before, and now, I’m not quite sure what I’m looking at. And I’m clearly not going to ask the server a question about anything, because I’d rather suffer than ask for help that I’m sure she’d be glad to give me.
I look over to Linc, who’s reading the menu as intently as I was earlier. He hasn’t said much to me since we left my apartment. Actually, now that I think about it, he hasn’t said anything.
Oh no…what did I do?
I retrace our steps since leaving my apartment. He offered to get us a ride share so I didn’t have to walk in my wedge sandals, which I thought was very gentlemanly.
Except he didn’t say anything in the ten-minute ride to the restaurant.
When we arrived, Linc was polite, getting out of the car first to make sure he came around to my side, giving me his hand to help me out of the car. His hand was on the small of my back as we took the few short steps from the car to the doors of the restaurant, and even inside, he always had some sort of contact to me.
Which was exactly what Katie told him to do.
Okay, so maybe it isn’t me. Because I don’t know what I could’ve done. I look at him across the table as he intently studies the menu, trying to figure out what he’s thinking. I feel like I’m getting to know him a little more every day, but I don’t know him well enough yet to know all his looks and tells. He looks stressed. Uncomfortable. Like this is the last place he wants to be.
Oh gosh…is he rethinking this? I mean, he has every right to. He said he’s not a relationship guy, and maybe even this is too much for him? We agreed the second that this wasn’t workingfor us anymore, that we’d cut ties. No questions asked. But I didn’t think it would end before it really even began.
Or maybe I should’ve bought a little black dress…
“Hey,” he says, almost startling me. “You okay?”
I nod, setting down the menu that I’ve barely looked at, yet also memorized. “I’m fine. I was actually wondering the same about you?”
He smiles and sits back against his chair, seeming relaxed for the first time tonight. “You know you don’t have to overthink for me when it’s not a game?”
My smile, and the blush on my cheeks is instant. “It never turns off. But that doesn’t change my question. You haven’t said much, and I just want to make sure that I…”
I trail off, not wanting to sound like some sad-sack complainer. I try to find words to finish that thought when I feel Linc’s hands taking mine.
“Hey, this has nothing, and I mean nothing, to do with you,” he says, training his eyes to mine. “And, I need to apologize.”
“For what?” I ask, ignoring the sudden sweat my hands are feeling.
“Not telling you before right now how absolutely beautiful you look tonight.”
“Oh.” It’s the only sound I can muster out. “Um, thank you. You look handsome as well.”
“Thanks,” he says with a grin. “Wyatt wouldn’t let me leave until I had his seal of approval. He was convinced because I don’t date that I don’t know how to dress myself.”
I laugh, wondering if Wyatt was also terrorizing his closet. “Stella tried to get me to wear something else. She said this wasn’t fancy dinner appropriate.”
