“Ready?” he asks when the waitress brings back his change. He tosses a twenty on the table, and my eyes bulge out of my head. “I can afford it, and they work hard.” He shrugs as if leaving a twenty-dollar tip for a bill that wasn’t even thirty dollars is normal. Maybe it is for him. I have no idea what his financial status is.
“Yes,” I answer as he offers me his hand to help me slide out of the booth, and I take it. I like the way it feels. The way the warmth of his skin seeps into mine. It’s been a long time since I’ve felt the touch of a man, and even if it is just holding my hand, I’ll take it.
Once outside, his SUV is already running. He opens the door for me and rushes around to his side of the truck. “Gotta love remote start,” he says, rubbing his hands together.
“I was getting ready to ask you about that.”
“It’s one of the best features ever invented.”
“It is nice,” I say, settling into the heated leather seat.
“This is nice,” he says, reaching over and lacing his fingers through mine.
He rests our joined hands on the center console, and I can’t help but stare at them. I can’t see his tattoos, not under his jacket or the long-sleeve Henley he’s wearing today, but I know they’re there. I’ve never given much thought to tattoos, but on Grant, they’re sexy, and I want to see more of them and wonder if he has them anywhere else, someplace I can’t see.
“This is me,” Grant says, pulling into the driveway of a condo not far from downtown.
“It’s nice.”
“You haven’t even seen the inside.” He chuckles.
“I live over a bakery. It’s a tiny two-bedroom, so this is nice. Trust me.”
“Your place is cute. Convenient too.”
“Yeah,” I agree. I wait for him to tell me how I’m living in a shoebox compared to this place, or how crazy I am to have invested every penny into a business that I don’t know will succeed. However, early numbers are showing are good. Warm Delights is doing well. I just hope we can maintain our momentum.
“You want to go in?” he asks, surprising me again.
I turn to look at him, trying to gauge how he wants me to answer. “Do you want to go in?” I answer with a question of my own.
He grins and shakes his head. “Yes and no. I’d love to show you my place, but we have reservations.”
“What time is our reservation?” I ask, glancing at the clock on the dash. It’s almost half-past ten.
“Eleven.”
“Yeah, we better get going.” I turn back in my seat.
“It’ll happen,” Grant says, putting his SUV in Reverse and backing out of his driveway.
“What will?” I ask, confused.
“I’ll get you in there.” He points through the front window of his SUV. “I’ll get you in my space.”
“You’re awfully full of yourself.”
“I’m a determined man.”
“I don’t really know how to take you at times.”
My confession has him tossing his head back in laughter. “That makes two of us. I can’t tell if you’re into me, or if you’re here just to be polite.”
“If you remember, it was Aspen who accepted your invitation,” I remind him.
“She did.” He nods. “But you’re still here, sitting next to me in my truck, spending the day with me.”
“You’re right. Take me home.”
“What?” He presses on the brake, stopping us in the middle of the road and whips his head to the side to look at me.
“Gotcha.”
“Oh, Aurora.” He tsks. “What am I going to do with you?”
“Tell me where we’re going?” I offer.
“Nope. Not after that little stunt. You’ll find out when we get there.”
“Are we there yet?” I ask. I don’t know what’s gotten into me. If I would have talked that way to Elijah, he would have lectured me for hours, told me how immature I was being.
“You’re going to be a handful, huh?” He laughs lightly.
I don’t respond, and he doesn’t expect me to. Instead, we travel to the other side of town in complete comfortable silence. I don’t feel the pressure to fill the silence, and for once, my mind isn’t worried about how I look, if what I chose to wear is good enough, if I’m good enough. I don’t know how he managed to pull it off, but Grant Riggins has got me out of my own head.
“Cooking class? We’re taking a cooking class?” I turn to look at him. I know my mouth is hanging open in shock, but this is not what I expected. Not at all.
“Yep.” He grins, and I can tell he’s proud of himself. “I know you love to bake, so I thought maybe you would enjoy this too. I, for one, can cook. Mom made sure we all could, but I’m no gourmet chef. We’re making homemade ravioli today.”
“Really?” I ask again.
“Good surprise?” he asks.
“The best! I’ve always wanted to do this.” I bounce in my seat a little from my excitement.
“Did you go to school to learn how to bake?” he inquires.
“No. My mom and my grandma taught me. Mom went to school for it, but I never did. I just picked it up. That’s part of why I was so nervous about opening my own shop. I don’t have an education.”
“Passion.”
“What?”
“You have the passion. Sometimes, especially in your case, that’s worth more than an education. I’ve tasted your treats, many of them, and let me tell you, there is nothing they could have taught you that you don’t already know. They’re delicious, Aurora.”
“Thank you.” My cheeks heat from his praise. “I can cook the basics, but baking… that’s my thing. So this—” I point through the front window. “—this is great. I’m so excited.” I look over at him, and he’s grinning, and I realize I’m acting like a fool. I immediately still. “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry?”
I nod, but I can’t make myself look at him. I’m sure the ridicule will start anytime now.
“Hey.” He reaches over and gently lifts my chin so my eyes are connected with his. “What just happened?”
“Nothing. I’m sorry for acting a fool.” I shake my head. I know better. I let my guard down.
“Aurora.” His voice is stern. “You have nothing to be sorry for. Do you know how relieved I am to know that you are excited about this? That we get to spend the day together doing something we’re both going to enjoy? That you’re sitting in this truck with me? Do you?”
“No,” I whisper.
“Fuck it,” he breathes, and then his lips are pressing against mine.
I’m frozen, not sure what to do. This is our first date, and he’s kissing me. The palm of his hand cradles my cheek, and his tongue traces my lips, and that’s all it takes for me to relax and open for him. He takes the opportunity to caress his tongue against mine, just a quick taste before he’s pulling away and resting his forehead against mine. We’re both breathing heavily, and my mind is racing. I’m not sure what just happened, but I’ll be the first to admit that it was too brief. I want his lips on mine again. And again. And again.