Page 12 of Let it Sizzle
But as I walk towards Samira, my heart rattling in my chest, the doubts creep back in. Maybe he’s being nice. Maybehe’s just playing protector like always. Maybe I’m reading into something that’s only in my head.
Because Levi Mercer doesn’t go for girls like me.
Does he?
Chapter 4
Levi
I’m early. Not just a few minutes early—a full twenty minutes early, sitting in my truck outside The Hollow Table like a man with zero chill and way too much pent-up energy. I’ve already adjusted the collar of my shirt twice, changed the radio station five times, and checked my rearview mirror more than once to make sure there’s nothing in my teeth, even though I haven’t eaten anything. I don’t usually get nervous. Not on calls. Not even when lives are on the line. But this? Waiting for Serena? This has me feeling like I’m in high school again. She called me earlier in the day to let me know that she didn’t want me to pick her up, that she would come to the restaurant herself. I’m sure that has something to do with Byron. I didn’t want to put any damper on our date so I agreed, even though it means I’m left waiting and wondering if she will show up.
And then she does.
She steps out of her car like she’s walking in slow motion—dark hair loose around her shoulders, dress floating just enough in the breeze to tease a glimpse of the curve of her thighs. It’s not flashy, nothing bold, but somehow that makes it worse. Like she doesn’t even realize how beautiful she is. Which only makes me want her more. My chest goes tight just watching her walk toward me, that uncertain smile playing on her lips like she’s still not sure she belongs here. But she does. God, she does.
I meet her halfway, because I need to see her up close—need to look at her like she’s already mine. And God, she doesn’tdisappoint. That soft, floral dress clings to her curves like it was made for my hands, not just her body. Her hair is curled at the ends, loose around her shoulders, and when she smiles, it damn near knocks the wind out of me.
“You look absolutely stunning.” I say it low, leaning in just enough to make sure she hears me over the hum of the patio lights.
Her smile deepens, cheeks tinged pink. “Thanks. You clean up well too.”
No jeans and T-shirt for this fireman tonight. Not when I’ve waited years for this. I’m wearing the suit. The one I only pull out for events I actually care about—and this? This is the most important thing I’ve suited up for in a long damn time.
Inside, the maître d’ gives me a knowing nod. “Your table’s ready, Chief.”
I rest a hand on the small of Serena’s back, guiding her through the tight space between tables, not missing the way her breath catches when my fingers brush the dip of her waist. The restaurant’s small, cozy—tables packed close, candles flickering in old whiskey glasses. The kind of place that makes you lean in just to be heard.
Perfect.
We slide into our seats, barely a foot between us. And for once, I’m grateful the town’s dining scene is so damn limited.
“Wow,” Serena murmurs, glancing around the room. “I didn’t realize Silvertown Hollow did… fancy.”
I grin, reaching for the wine list just to give my hands something to do. “The chef moved here from Chicago a few years ago. Decided to bring five-star to the middle of nowhere.”
She raises a brow, clearly impressed. “And here I thought I’d have to settle for burgers and milkshakes.”
“Oh, you can still get those too, if you want,” I tell her, eyes locked on hers. “But tonight, I wanted to give you something more.”
She’s worth the effort, and I want her to know it.
She looks at the menu and I can tell I took her to the right place. Her smile widens as she looks at the options. “Definitely an upgrade from burgers and milkshakes!”
“You really left for good, huh?” I ask, my voice low so it doesn’t carry across the small restaurant.
She shrugs, her gaze flicking down to where our hands are tangled on the table. “Didn’t have much of a choice.”
My chest tightens. I know what she means without her having to spell it out. That house. That life. No girl deserved to grow up like that.
“No regrets?” I ask, needing to hear it.
She hesitates, then smiles, a little sad, a little real. “Maybe a few.” Her eyes lift to meet mine. “But coming back... definitely isn’t one.”
She shifts in her seat, her thigh brushing mine under the table, and I feel it everywhere.
“Tell me what you’ve been up to,” I say. I might not like what I hear, but I need to know everything about the years I wasn’t there to protect her.
She laughs softly, that shy, melodic sound that curls in my gut and makes me tighten my grip. “Not much to tell. Went to school. Got a degree. Worked some jobs. Started drawing moreseriously.” She bites her lip, glancing up at me through those long lashes. “Lived a little. Messed up a little.”
