Page 20 of Touchdown
He looked intrigued. “You regret it?”
“Not even a little,” I admitted with a soft laugh. “It’s exhausting, but I love it. The vibe is different from the salon we used to work at, more relaxed. We can take our time with our clients, and they walk out feeling like their best selves. Reminds me more of how my mom let me brush and style her hair when I was little. It’s worth every sore muscle.”
His expression softened. “You make people feel good about themselves. That’s rare.”
“Flattery will get you everywhere,” I teased.
He shook his head. “Not flattery. Just a fact.”
His compliment made heat crawl up my neck. I looked down at my napkin, suddenly fascinated by the stitching.
To distract myself, I asked, “What about you? How did you first get into football?”
He nodded once. “Started playing flag when I was four. My dad coached me, and I never wanted to leave the field. Most of my best memories are from being out there with him on the sideline, all the way through high school.”
“Guess I was more right than I realized when I said he must be proud of you.”
“Always.” His gaze met mine again, steady and sure.
The server dropped off our meals, and for a while, we just ate, the soft clink of silverware filling the silence. I wasn’t sure what to say next, but it turned out I didn’t have to. Saxon set down his fork and said quietly, “Talking to you is easy.”
I appreciated how he was opening up to me when he wasn’t a big talker with other people. His sincerity disarmed me, and I smiled. “I’m glad.”
After dinner, he walked me back to his SUV, his hand resting lightly at the small of my back. The touch was protective and sent a rush of awareness up my spine.
When we reached my building later, he walked me to my apartment, his thumb brushing over my knuckles before he leaned down and pressed his lips to mine. The kiss was long and deep, leaving me dizzy and craving more.
“Want to come in?”
He drew back and shook his head. “After last night, I think this is the safest place to say good night.”
“So you’re being a gentleman?”
“It’s only our first date, sunshine.” He swatted my butt. “Get inside before I do something you’re not ready for.”
“Fine,” I grumbled, surprised to find that I wasn’t sure he was right about me not being ready. He was the first guy I’d ever really kissed, and we’d barely known each other a week, but I found myself wanting more.
“Tomorrow. Same time.”
I nodded, dazed. “Okay.”
Two dinners in a row,and we already had a rhythm. Easy conversation threaded with quiet intensity that made it hard to remember we were still getting to know each other.
We ended up at a different spot this time—a cozy bistro with tiny candles on the tables and an indulgent dessert menu I couldn’t resist.
“You going to order cake again tonight?” he teased, a gleam of humor lighting his hazel eyes.
“Don’t judge me,” I huffed. “Dessert is an essential food group.”
His mouth tilted into that slow, almost smile I’d learned to look for. “I didn’t say I was judging. Just wondering if I should start with the dessert menu next time since it’s clearly your favorite part of the meal.”
“Next time?”
His gaze held mine. “You planning on saying no?”
I wasn’t, and we both knew it.
Between bites of cake, I realized how easy it was to talk to Saxon when he was relaxed. His sense of humor was dry and understated. Half the time, his jokes were so deadpan that they only clicked in my head a few beats later, leaving me laughing long after he’d moved on. And every time I did, I caught him watching me like he couldn’t help himself, his expression unreadable except for the quiet heat simmering just beneath the surface.
