Page 24 of Kiss Me Now
“Uh, right.” He gave me a quick scan, and I appreciated that it didn’t feel creepy. “Well, I guess we should go?” He stepped back to let me pass.
I smiled once I was sure he couldn’t see me because I knew I would only look smug. He’d clearly expected to find me in overalls and Miss Lily’s garden dirt, “understated” for dinner. But I was Linda Spencer’s daughter, raised in the cotillions and country clubs of one of the wealthiest zip codes in the country, and I definitely knew how to clean up “nice.” Poor dummy.
My smugness lasted exactly three seconds until my heel caught on a nail in the porch board I’d been meaning to hammer down for a month. I pitched forward, windmilling toward the stairs. I squeaked and swung my arms in a wild effort to regain my balance, but I tilted, tilted, tilted—
And suddenly found myself upright again, yanked back by Ian’s strong arm wrapped around my waist, holding me against his chest.
His hard, broad chest.
“You okay?” His voice was a warm rumble against my back.
“Fine.” Had that been a hint of laughter in his voice? “Been meaning to take care of that nail for a while.”
“Nail?”
“Yes.” I pushed lightly at his arm and took the three steps leading to the front path. I turned and pointed to the offending nail. “I tripped on that.”
“Sure. High heels must be tricky if you’re not used to them, especially when you have random nails trying to sabotage you.”
Not used to them?Like I was a ten-year-old playing dress up? And was his voice a touchtoounderstanding when he said that? Oh, he was smooth. I’d have to stay sharp to keep up with all his passive-aggressive insults. He was good enough for me to wonder if my mother had raised him too.
Ugh. The last thing I wanted to do was spend the evening navigating subtext with a guy I couldn’t stand, but at least I had the skills for it.Do your worst, Ian Greene. I’m ready.
The drive to Caps was short, only ten minutes, filled with sporadic small talk about the weather and Miss Lily’s garden.
We took the last spot in the parking lot. It was a good sign that the restaurant was bustling. A quiet restaurant parking lot on a Friday night wouldn’t suggest good food, but Caps was hopping. Now I had to hope that we weren’t stuck with a long wait, making more awkward small talk.
“Table for two,” Ian said to the smartly dressed hostess when we stepped into the crowded entry.
I tried not to stress. Great. Long wait and awkward chatter it would be.
“Name, please?” the hostess asked.
“Ian.”
“Greene?” She asked, looking up from her list.
“Yes,” he confirmed with a note of surprise.
“Your table is ready. Miss Lily called ahead.”
Ian smiled. “Of course she did.”
“She also said to tell you not to be mad, but she ordered for you.”
This earned her a laugh from Ian, and I had to smile too.
“Also not a surprise,” he said. “Can’t wait to find out what I’m having for dinner.”
The hostess led us to a cozy booth tucked into the back corner of the restaurant, far from the bustle of kitchen traffic. She left us with a smile and not a single menu.
“Gran is a tiny tyrant,” Ian said.
“A benevolent tyrant.” I wrinkled my nose in a way an ex-boyfriend had called adorable, so I’d broken up with him. Kittens were adorable. Not grown women. “Is that a thing? A benevolent tyrant?”
“It’s a pretty accurate description,” Ian said. “So I guess it’s a thing.”
A waiter approached the table with a bottle of wine. “A Chenin blanc, courtesy of Mrs. Greene,” he said, pouring a generous glass for each of us. “Oaked, with buttery top notes.”
