Page 171 of Holidating
“You okay over there? You seem a little jumpy all of a sudden.”
It’s true. She’s had a lovely meal up until now. Damien’s enthusiasm for the restaurant was fun. It was his idea to order different things so they could try as many dishes as possible.
They had, and it was all fantastic—maybe even more so because her family wouldn’tdreamof swapping bites across the table.
There are too many people in her life who know how to suck the joy out of everything. Damien is not one of them. Which is why she’s suddenly on edge.
“Sweetheart,” he says softly. “Everything okay?”
“Yes,” she says resolutely. “I’m just gathering my courage for what comes next.”
He quirks an eyebrow. “The drive home? I don’t think my food coma is actually dangerous.” He reaches across the table and takes her hand. “Hit me, Overland. What’s bothering you?”
Be honest. This is Damien, after all. He listens better than anyone else. “It’s like this—I’m a little nervous because I want you to take me home with you tonight. But I haven’t been with anyone new in…” She blows out a breath. “Over ten years.”
He strokes her hand. “So another time, then. There’s no rush.”
That’s a nice thing to say, and she knows he means it. But earlier tonight, Damien gave an impassioned little speech about not wasting any more time, because you never know how much you’ll have.
She takes another ill-advised sip of wine. It’s a 2015 Bordeaux and outrageously good. There’s no way she can finish the bottle, and that seems like a crime. “I have an idea,” she says suddenly.
The corners of his mouth twitch. “You going to share?”
She raises a hand and gestures to the head of service, who comes shooting over. “Yes, ma’am?”
“Marie? Could you do me a favor and ask the night manager if he has a room open tonight? I don’t know if I feel like driving home.”
“Of course, Ms. Overland. One moment.”
Damien watches her from across the booth. But he doesn’t ask what she’s doing. He only smiles. “Aren’t you going to try the jellied fruit? Or am I the only one who’s going to have to roll out of here.”
Her heart is thumping, but she takes a candy. The fruity flavor bursts against her tongue.
Marie returns within two minutes, passing Damien the check, and passing Nicolette a key wallet with two cards inside. “Lucky for you, weeknights during stick season are quiet.”
“Thank you so much.” She checks the room number—702. The top floor, so probably a suite. She drops the wallet into her bag. Then she pushes the wine bottle toward Damien. “Here. Now you don’t have to drive back unless you want to. And this wine isn’t going to drink itself.”
His eyes warm as he considers her. Then he reaches for the bottle and pours himself a glass. “I knew you were a fun date. But you should tell me where you see this going.”
Gathering her courage, she reaches across the table and clasps his free hand. “You tell me.” She drops her voice. “I shaved my legs, stashed some condoms in my purse, and got a hotel room.”
His forehead wrinkles. “I’m not great with contextual cues. Could you be more specific?”
“Damien.”
He smiles suddenly. “Just teasing, Overland.”
She sips her wine, still holding his hand. They lapse into an anticipatory silence. Until this week, Nicolette has rarely allowed herself to consider this moment, even though she’s always been wildly attracted to Damien, from the first time they met.
“What are you thinking about?” he asks in a silky voice.
“The first time we met,” she blurts out. “You were wearing a blue-and-white gingham button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up.” She’s always secretly admired his forearms. “That day is seared in my memory.”
He grins. “You, too? I thought it was just me.”
She squeezes his hand. “I was a bit of a wreck, and you were so great. Kind of like right now.”
He drags his thumb across her palm, and she feels it everywhere. “You’re not a wreck, honey. You weren’t then, either. You were just working through some stuff.”
