“I must go.”
I reached for my purse and took out my phone, scrolling through my pictures until I found the one I was looking for. “That’s the map.” I handed him my cell and watched him stare at the screen, his large hands making it look so tiny. He pressed a few buttons, and I had a feeling he was texting himself the photo. “I hope, one day, you get to experience the magic of that restaurant.”
“You’re making me want to get on a plane right now.”
I laughed, and this time wasn’t like any of the others. “I admire your ability to move on and how you won’t let fear stop you.” I didn’t want our conversation to return to the crash or any of the memories surrounding it, so I changed subjects completely. “Where did you go to school, Jared?”
“University of Oregon.”
I had expected a school with an excellent football team based on how he had started his company. I just hadn’t considered him at a college that was so far away. “How did you end up in New York?”
“I’d spent a lot of time here over the years, and I knew the city well. When I decided to come off the road and park, it felt like the right place to do it.”
“No regrets?”
He sighed, and I wasn’t sure what the sound meant. “About New York? No.”
“Well then, how about life?”
His hands were free, and he surrounded them around his wine. “I’d be lying if I said no.”
“Me, too, but do you want to hear something terrifying?” When he nodded, I took a deep breath. “I have to believe that getting on the plane wasn’t one of them.”
After the waitress cleared all of our dishes, she returned to our table and said, “Dessert?”
I held my stomach and shook my head. “I can’t, but dinner was as amazing as I remembered.”
“Thank you.” She looked to Jared, who gave her the same gesture, and then she was gone.
My eyes went back to his, and I asked, “Do you travel tomorrow?”
“I’m home for a few weeks.”
“Is that unusual?”
He shrugged, never taking his eyes off me. “Depends. But when I go, I try to knock out several stops at once to give me more time at home.”
“I do the same.” It hit me how easily I had responded but how it no longer applied, giving me the need to clarify, “Did, I mean.”
The waitress was back, and she placed the check on the table, which Jared took. After slipping his credit card inside the leather billfold, he handed it to her.
“You will again.”
“You always say that.”
His brows pushed together. “Because I mean it.”
The seriousness in his eyes returned, his tone just as strong.
He wanted me to believe him.
I wanted nothing more.
“Thank you for dinner. You didn’t have to treat me, but I appreciate it.”
The waitress gave him the receipt, and he glanced up after he signed his name.
“It was my pleasure.”
Everything was already so warm. As he smiled, it suddenly turned hot.
“Ready?”
I nodded and got up from my chair. His hand barely touched my lower back as he escorted me through the dining room and out the front.
“Where do you live?” he asked when we got to the sidewalk.
I pointed to my right. “Three blocks that way.”
“I’ll walk you.”
It was chilly, and I pulled my jacket tighter. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine—”
“Billie …”
It was the way he said my name. So protective, dominant, like I was silly to even question him at this point.
I turned in the same direction as him, and we began walking.
After a few paces, I broke the silence. “I have to say, it’s really nice that you’re a foodie, and it’s something you enjoy talking about.”
His eyes came to mine, and then they were focused on the sidewalk.
“Obviously, I can discuss it endlessly. I just appreciate someone who doesn’t get tired of that.”
“The older I get, the more I grow to really enjoy food.”
“Which is how old?”
I’d dug a little over dinner. There was no reason to stop now.
“Forty-seven, which is a hell of a lot older than you.”