She ran the tip of her index finger along the corner of her mouth, wiped excess gloss on her napkin and shut the compact. “I have something for you.”
“Give it to me at home.” Beau slid out his chair, stood and buttoned his suit jacket.
She looked up, and a smile spread across her face. Now, she seemed the complete opposite of nervous. “What’s the rush?”
“Weeks, Lola. It’s been weeks.” The waiter headed back toward them with something in his hand. “I’m dying here.”
“Sit down, Beau. I promise you’ll like your gift.”
He unbuttoned his jacket again, ran a hand through his hair and sat. Unless his gift was Lola spread eagle on the restaurant table, he doubted it was worth another few minutes of him not having sex. “All right. Where is it?”
Lola’s cheeks turned pink. “It’s already here. I wanted it to be a surprise.”
The waiter returned to the table and set the check in front of Beau. Next to it, he placed a flat, white box tied with a red ribbon.
Beau tilted his head. “What’s this?”
“Your gift.”
“I thought it would be—” He stopped. He didn’t know what he’d thought, but he hadn’t expected it to come in a box. He looked up at her. “I can’t believe I didn’t think to get you anything.”
“There’s no better gift you could give me than what will happen tonight. Please, open it.”
Beau pulled one end of the bow, and the ribbon fell away. What could it be? He already had plenty of cologne, and an enviable collection of Montblanc pens. The box was the wrong shape for those things anyway. He listed in his head the things Brigitte or ex-girlfriends had bought him over the years—cufflinks, courtside basketball seats, a sterling silver money clip. He lifted the lid.
It took a moment to register what he was looking at. He picked up a headband topped with a pair of jet-black, furry cat ears. Each one had a smaller pink triangle in the center. “What is this?”
“It’s what I’m going to wear when I dance for you tonight.”
Beau’s eyes jumped to hers. “Dance for me? Tonight?”
She nodded. “We’ve been through a lot. I want to go back to where it all started.”
“The only place we’re going is home.” Beau tossed the ears on the table and scribbled his signature on the check. He leaned across the table toward her but didn’t bother lowering his voice. “You think I’ll last two minutes watching you dance for me? You’ll be lucky if I don’t jump across this table and give this entire restaurant a show they’ll never forget. My patience is gone, Lola.”
“Beau—”
“Tomorrow, I’ll lounge on the couch all day long while you twirl around wearing whatever you want on your head. And I’ll love every minute of it. But right now, I’m going to fuck the living daylights out of you faster than you can say pussycat.”
Lola leveled her eyes on him with a playfulness that hadn’t been there before. She ran her tongue along her bottom lip. “Pussycat.”
Beau rose from his chair so quickly, it almost toppled over. “We’re leaving.”
Lola also stood, quietly placing the cat ears back in the box and covering them with the lid. “Our date isn’t over. Like I said this morning, I’ve planned it all out.”
“And I appreciate that.” Beau took Lola’s hand and walked away from the table, pulling her along. “You can tell me all about it on the way home.”
He opened the door to the restaurant, ushered her out. One nod, and the valet took off down the sidewalk, remembering Beau and his car without prompting.
Lola yanked her hand from his. He looked back at her as she clutched the box to her chest, her breasts rising and falling. “I didn’t wait this long just to have you ruin everything because you can’t wait a couple more hours,” she said, her face flushed, her words clipped. “Do you have any idea what tonight means to me?”
“Yes. Of course I do.” Beau sighed and ran his hands over his face. “I’m going to take my time and appreciate you like I did before. I promise. But I’ve thought of nothing else since you told me tonight is the night, and I’m at the end of my rope here.”
She approached him slowly, as if he truly might pounce. He opened his arms to show her he wasn’t angry. He wasn’t—just really goddamn horny.
She walked into his embrace, looking down as she played with a button on his shirt. “You’ve been so patient, but I want to do this one, very special thing for you first. Just one more stop. Can you give me that?”
He rubbed his hands up her back between her shoulder blades. The Lamborghini’s engine rumbled as it rounded the corner. “All right, pussycat. You have me in the palm of your hand, you know that? Where are you taking me for our last stop?”
She blinked her almond-shaped blue eyes up to his, and her nose twitched. She looked remarkably feline in that moment. “I already told you. We’re going back to where it all began. We’re going to Cat Shoppe.”
17
Beau wasn’t easy to catch off guard. The incredulous expression on his face excited Lola—she would’ve been disappointed by anything else. The Lamborghini’s growl, quiet but distinct, was the only sound. It idled at the curb where the restaurant’s valet had parked it.
“We’re going where?” Beau asked finally, his arms loosening around her.
“Cat Shoppe.”
“You’re going to wear those,” he nodded at the box in her hand with the cat ears, “and dance for me?”
Lola grinned. “Surprised?”
“A little. Yes. That night you want to recreate wasn’t exactly our best moment.”
“I don’t know,” Lola said softly, fixated on his shirt button, circling her fingertip over it. “You and I remember it different.”
“We do?” His chest rose with his inhalation. “You never mentioned that.”
She blinked her lashes up to him again. God, those green eyes, when he focused them on her—a tornado could hit, and she wouldn’t even notice. She stopped her fluttering and blinked hard, getting back on track.