“I thought you weren’t much of a dater,” I say, trying to make it sound like I’m joking.
But really my chest feels like a giant invisible hand is gripping it. And I wonder if I’ve started on a road that will end in betrayal.
What if he’s lying?
My heart rebels at that.
He’d never lie to me.
I believe it, even if I have no reason to.
“I’m learning as I go,” he says, smirking over at me.
I think about Lena. He’s dated at least once, even if it was almost a decade ago.
“So you’re not taking me to a private restaurant because you’re embarrassed about being seen with your charity case?”
I try to keep my tone lighthearted, as though I’m the sort of woman who doesn’t need to live in a constant state of nervousness and fear of making a fool of herself.
But I fail. My words come out bitter as if I’m already judging him for something he might not have done.
And yet, it could be true.
“You’re not a charity case,” he growls now, clearly upset by my words but I can’t help it. “Even if I didn’t overhear your conversation, I would’ve asked you out.”
I gasp. I can’t help it. The assertion sounds so ludicrous, as though he’s trying to think of the statement that will give me the most hope… and bring me crashing down to earth when he reveals the truth.
What truth? That he’s lying just to hurt me? Why would he do that?
“Really?” I whisper.
“Yes,” he snaps back.
“But why?”
We exit the bridge and come to a stop at a red light.
He turns towards me, his hands tight on the steering wheel, his eyes fixed on me. I feel pinned to my seat by his unflinching gaze.
“Because you’re beautiful. Because I find you interesting. Because I want to. That enough for you, eh?”
“Beautiful,” I repeat.
“It means nice to look at.” He smirks. “And here I was thinking you were the one good with words.”
I giggle, but it feels hollow. “Nobody’s ever called me beautiful before.”
“What?” he snaps.
“Well, my sister, my friend, Juliana… but not a boy, I mean, a man.”
“That’s a damn shame, Penny, because you are. You’re gorgeous.”
A shiver dances over my skin. My heart picks up speed, beating up in my throat, making it difficult to respond. I shift as my panties grow warm and start to feel sticky, my clit rubbing against the material, my sex tingling.
It’s just one compliment. No reason to go into sex-crazed mode and spontaneously mount him.
And yet the urge is there, borderline overwhelming, getting louder and more difficult to ignore each moment. Suddenly I imagine sliding onto his lap, rubbing and moaning as he grows hard even if he’s not ready right now.
Ready for what?
Heck, I didn’t even consider that he’d actually want me.
“So I guess this is a real date,” I murmur.
“Do you want it to be?” he asks, guiding the car down the road.
I swallow. An unkind part of me whispers that this is a trick. The second I tell him yes, he’s going to turn cruel and start mocking me. He’s going to call me an idiot for ever thinking this could be real. He’s going to humiliate me.
But I know he’s not like that, even if I’ve got no evidence. Publicly, he’s a saint, but I know nothing about his private life, except for the way Lena reacted to him.
“Yes,” I say after a pause. “I do. If you’re cool with that?”
His trademark smirk tugs at his lips. “I’m more than cool with that, Penny. I’m just relieved you feel the same.”
I smooth my hands over my stomach, driven by the fluttering butterflies, but then I start thinking about the child that will grow in there one day, our child, the life we’re going to share.
“I feel the same,” I whisper.
It’s a lie. There’s no way we feel exactly the same, no way Preston is experiencing the same collision of destiny-driven want, primal desire, and the absolute need to be with him for the rest of our lives that I feel.
CHAPTER TEN
Preston
The host leads us down a wide corridor, pale yellow light shining from the sconces on the walls. Penny walks just next to me, swaying her hips from side to side.
She doesn’t do it to catch my eye, it’s naturally part of her gait.
Her ass is tempting in the silver dress, looking like it was made for me to grab, spank, tease. I want to plunge my hands into the curvaceous perfection of her backside, squeeze, and then pull up her dress to reveal the creamy round globes underneath.
My cock aches.
My heart aches too, from the conversation in the car. She wants this to be a real date as badly as I do.
That’s something we have in common, at least.
This isn’t just for her blog.
The host opens the door onto the upper level. It’s a big room, with a table and chairs in the middle, candles lit all around the room. Windows look down upon the main restaurant, a chamber-like room with chandeliers, a jazz band playing as men in suits and women in dresses eat.