Page 17 of Mister Cowboy
“Wow. You look...” His words died off at the sight of her creamy, exposed skin. Brunette hair fell over her shoulders in big waves, and he had to slip his hand into his pocket to keep from reaching out to run his fingers through it. He’d always appreciated the tight, slinky numbers his dates wore, but January outdid them all in a black dress that somehow looked as classy as it did sexy. She was an eleven.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice wavering slightly.
Her nervousness put him at ease, and he held out an arm. “Shall we?”
Once inside his car, she relaxed into the seat. The only sign of her trepidation was the way she wrung her hands in her lap. He couldn’t focus on it too long, though, staring at her lap led to staring at her long, lean legs. His dick twitched and he suppressed a groan.
“Are you enjoying the show?” she asked and gave him a knowing smirk.
“Your legs are distracting.”
She moved to tuck them to the side, further from his gaze, and he placed a hand on her left knee. “Don’t you dare go hiding from me. Legs like that deserve to be ogled.”
He took her to Tres Amigas, the newest and most exclusive tapas restaurant in the city. He didn’t care much for the food, but it was the place to see and be seen, and damn, if he didn’t want to be seen with January on his arm. A valet opened the door, and they stepped out into a sea of men and women in designer labels. He shouldn’t have been surprised at how easily she fit in. A hostess led them to a table in the center of the room, and he took some pride in the stares pointed in her direction.
“I thought this was a business dinner,” she said, her eyes scanning the room.
“I thought you’d enjoy this place. It’s new.”
“I’ve heard great things about the food here.”
“The food is okay.”
She laughed, whether in agreement or incredulity, he didn’t know.
“So, why bring me here then instead of somewhere you actually like the food?”
It was his turn to laugh. He tried and failed to picture them sharing a basket of wings in their designer duds.
“Beer and wings doesn’t usually go over well on a first date.”
“Business dinner,” she corrected him. “And maybe you’ve been taking out the wrong women.” Her words were a dare, and they stood in unison, leaving the soft music and overpriced food behind.
“This is delicious,” January said an hour later as she closed her eyes and tossed another French fry in her mouth.
“I feel a little ridiculous.” He stared down at his napkin-covered lap, hoping like hell he’d managed to escape any grease stains. “I don’t usually eat here in my best suit.”
She giggled, leaning back into the booth as she popped another fry in her mouth.
“I can’t believe this is your favorite place. Michael and I came here every Thursday when we were in college. We’ve probably been here at the same time before.”
“Nope. I would remember you.”
“Oh yeah? Would you have asked me out back then?”
He ran a hand over his gelled hair, considering. “Honestly? Probably not. Not because I wouldn’t have wanted to, but I was shy and awkward back then. I spent days holed up in my apartment coding and reading, and I spent my nights here eating and watching the free television.”
She smiled at that tidbit and leaned toward him with her elbows on the table. She was hanging on every word, and it felt good to be heard. For the past to be as interesting as the present.
“You seem more relaxed here. Not big on fancy restaurants?”
Her eyes dropped to the table. “I didn’t say that.”
“You didn’tnotsay it.”
“It just isn’t my scene. I prefer this. The food is the reason not the excuse and the people are friendlier.”
“Ouch. Some rich ex-boyfriend cross you or something?”
