Chapter 18
Isa changed from a black dress to a pink dress. Then to a white dress.
She peeled off the white one and groused at the discarded frocks on her bed before pulling on a pair of slim jeans, a ruffly blue top she’d bought because it matched Eli’s eyes, and a pair of black heeled boots.
There.
Whatever he told her tonight, she was ready. He’d phoned earlier in the day and invited her over, saying, “I have dinner handled, Sable. Bring yourself and your appetite. I have big news.”
“Business or pleasure?” she’d asked, trying for cheeky while her heart thundered.
“A bit of both.”
She had no idea what he’d meant, but she was prepared to hear whatever he had to say. Including a profession of his feelings. Oh, she hoped it was a profession of his feelings. Things had moved fast for her, but she wouldn’t second-guess herself. Not when everything felt so undeniably real and right. He’d asked for time, and she’d granted it. Maybe he was as ready as she was to step things up between them.
She regarded her outfit in the mirror on the closet door and bit her lip. Nope. Better go for the dress instead.
She peeled off her boots and started over.
***
Isa arrived at Eli’s house wearing a skinny black dress and high heels. She wore a coat. As October grew to an end, there was no “showing off the dress” without also “freezing off her ass.”
She slid the elevator door aside to reveal a heart-stopping table setting.
Candles.
Flowers.
Eli had never struck her as the flowers and candles type, aside from the time he’d dug one out of the back of the pantry for their shared bath. But there they were: two elegant, slim tapers nested in crystal holders.
“Hello?” She was smiling as she slipped her coat from her shoulders and walked in.
“Have a seat. Out in a sec,” he called from the direction of the bedroom.
The flowers were hodgepodge in a glass pitcher. The ends weren’t cut, and the iris in the center had a dead petal. Eli hadn’t hired a florist. The fork and knife were on the wrong side of the plate for a formal setting, and the napkin was a paper towel.
Her smile grew even wider. He’d done all of it himself. Which meant he’d gone to the trouble to impress her. She gave up trying to calm her excitement as her heart galloped. This was clearly a romantic gesture—and she was ready to hear him out.
“Hey,” she heard behind her. Eli strolled out of the bedroom buttoning the sleeves on a white dress shirt, his black slacks and shiny black shoes throwing her off. This was much different from the man in torn jeans and a tight gray T-shirt, yet he was as appealing either way.
“Wow, you look…”
He lifted his face and she lost her breath. Just gone, like a vacuum had sucked it from her. She could see his face. All of it.
“You shaved your beard. Completely.”
He brought up his tattooed arm and scrubbed his cheek with one hand. “Yeah. Is it weird?”
“Different, not weird.”
God, he was gorgeous. The dark angle of his jaw sharp and leading to a strong chin and perfectly firm, kissable lips. His hair was trimmed and neat, a little wavy on top—just the way she liked it.
“Wow.”
“You said that already.” He grinned as he approached, his steps shortening when he came close. His touch was familiar and welcome, blazing a trail along her waist as he tugged her close. “Want to see how it feels and make your judgment call after?”
“Mmm-hmm.” Since she wasn’t capable of words at the moment, she went with an affirmative hum. He kissed her and she made the sound again, only it was more of a moan, and turned her knees to jelly. His warm tongue traced hers and instead of feeling the rough texture of his facial hair, she was met with a smooth face, caressing lips, and his ever-present wandering hands.