We found ourselves talking about the help we had getting ready for our evening, and Remy couldn't stop laughing when I mentioned the pink shirt. By the time we reached the restaurant, Remy had made me promise that I would model the shirt for him someday.
The restaurant was everything I'd expected it to be. Classy, intimate, and very expensive. We were shown to a quiet table in the corner of the restaurant but as soon as we sat down, I knew it wasn't going to work. Remy had gone from relaxed and chatty in the car to full-on terrified. He looked at all the silverware on each side of the plate in front of him and then began frantically searching the room. I realized he was trying to watch some of the other patrons to figure out which silverware to use.
I tried to draw him into conversation in the hopes that he would relax, but as soon as the waitress came and began talking about the different specials and which wine was recommended to go with them, I knew I'd fucked up. I asked the waitress to give us a moment, then looked at Remy who was now focused on the multiple glasses that made up the place setting.
"Baby, talk to me," I said as I reached for his hand. The one that couldn’t stop touching all the silverware.
He looked up at me as if finally remembering my presence. Instead of taking my hand, he tucked both of his in his lap and shook his head. "I'm so sorry, Luca. I didn't mean to embarrass you."
The table we were at was one with a circular bench around it to give it more of an intimate feel. I shifted so I was sitting next to Remy, our bodies touching. I didn't care who was watching as I tipped his face up so he was forced to look at me. "You could never embarrass me, sweetheart."
I dropped a soft kiss to his mouth. He kissed me back, but there was no denying the nerves that continued to plague him. I felt like a fool for not considering that he might not want to go to such a fancy place. I was so used to impressing people with my money that I’d just naturally drifted to selecting a restaurant that was a reflection of that.
"How about we get out of here?" I asked as I sought out Remy's hand beneath the table.
"Oh no, Luca no, please, I can do better. I really want to have this date with you."
I squeezed his hand and said, "Remy, you couldn’t get rid of me right now if you tried. We are most definitely having this date." I dropped my mouth so only he could hear me. "Truth?" I asked softly and then I let my lips skim the shell of his ear.
He sucked in a breath and nodded.
I toyed with his fingers as I whispered, "The second I saw you holding that little girl and talking all Scooby to her, it became the best date in the history of the world."
I sensed Remy relax slightly next to me and I instantly wanted to kill every single person who’d ever made him feel like he wasn't good enough for a place like this or someone like me.
"What do you say we get out of here? There's a fish and chips place down the street that Vaughn swears by,” I said.
Another nod. I climbed out of the booth and eased Remy up behind me. I left enough cash on the table to cover the bill as if we'd actually eaten there and then led Remy to the door. Once outside, I put my arm around his shoulders, but I didn't fully relax until several moments later when he leaned against me and put his arm around my waist.
I let out a huge sigh of relief that he had to have felt.
It had been a near miss, but we were anything but down for the count.
"Epic first date, take two," I said softly and was rewarded with the best response I could've hoped for.
Remy's laughter.
Chapter Twenty-Three
Remy
"So basically, you buy and sell companies, right?" I asked.
"Yep, that's it," Luca said with a grin. I knew that was far from "it" considering all the detail he'd gone into in the past few minutes as he’d explained what he did for a living, but admittedly, I'd had trouble understanding the complexities of it all, not to mention I’d found myself focused more on Luca's mouth than the words coming out of it. It had been like that most of the night as we’d talked—the part about me noticing different things about his body.
Like the way he talked with his hands and the way his forehead creased just a little bit when he was thinking about something. But up until that moment, I'd been able to listen to his words as well as admire his physique. And while the subject of his business had been hard to follow, I had been able to keep up with our earlier conversations, even as my body had insisted on noticing all the little gestures and movements he made as he spoke.