“Stop.” Her giggle was half-groan as she stared up at the ceiling, red in the cheeks. “Don’t torture me, Lukas. We’re going to dinner first,” she finally said sternly. “You made a reservation and I bought a new dress. Now are you coming or not?”
“We could both be coming in about fifteen if you let me pin you up on this wall.”
“And for that, you don’t get to touch me at all during dinner.”
My face fell. “Whoa, hey. That’s fucked up,” I said and I meant it. But for the laugh it put on her face, I let it go and followed her with a grin down the hall.
9
LUKAS
I broke the rule fast. Apparently, all it took was some guy staring at her ass for too long.
“Hey. No touching,” Lia reminded me, gently removing my hand from her lower back.
“I feel like there should’ve been a grace period for that,” I muttered. There was a sexy dimple in her cheek as she smiled.
“We would’ve never gotten out the door if there was.”
“Can’t argue that,” I conceded as we followed the hostess to our table.
The restaurant was small, barely thirty seats, and I could count almost half of them having glanced up at Lia as she walked by, oblivious to her own sex appeal in that painted-on dress. Every step she took, every move she made gave me a new angle of her knockout curves and each one chipped steadily away at my self-control. I had to practically meditate the urges away as I held out her chair, watching her smooth her hands over her lap as she took a seat.
“It’s pretty in here,” she smiled, looking around as I sat across from her. “I’ve never been here before. I mean of course I haven’t. I haven’t been to most places yet,” she laughed at herself. “I’m definitely never in the West Village. Or anywhere on the West Side.”
“Why not?”
She frowned. “I don’t know. I think subconsciously, I just like to stay close to home. There’s never a moment where I don’t feel like I should be working.”
I remembered the feeling. “It gets that way when you start your own company. The beginning is always the worst.”
“Oh God, yes,” she said, her smile gleaming at the server who presented a menu. “It got so much worse when I went full-time. I mean my apartment doubles as my office so it never really feels like I’m off. It always feels like I’m supposed to be doing something,” she sighed, though her smile remained as she studied the menu. Leaning back, I watched her. She had her pointy chin perched in her hand, her finger running lightly down the paper as she read each dish to herself in a little murmur.
“I remember that,” I said finally. “What did you do before you went full-time?”
“Waitressed. It was the only real job experience I had so that’s what I went with when I got here.”
“Where are you from?”
Lia peered up. “Oh. Lukas.” She smiled. “Are we doing the classic getting-to-know-you-dance? Just to remind you, this isn’t a real date so you don’t have to act all interested in my life.”
“I genuinely am but thanks for the out. I’ll use it if I feel the need. In the meantime, where are you from?”
She gave the obligatory eye roll but I got a small laugh out of her. “Upstate New York,” she answered. “Tiny town called Warren,” she added with a face.
“I take it you didn’t like it there.”
“Loved the town. Hated the memories I left with.” Lia avoided my gaze as she went suddenly from the menu to the wine list. “Breakups and such,” she muttered. “Well – breakup. Singular. It was only one jerk the whole time I was there. I left literally the day I broke up with him.”
“And how long ago was that?”
“Two-and-a-half years ago.”
I raised a curious eyebrow. “So you stopped having sex with your boyfriend six months before breaking up.”
Her eyes shot up at me. “What are you, Sherlock Holmes?”
“It was basic math, but sure.”