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“I did promise you dinner,” I say.
Her smile lingers as she nods.
“Are you ready to go?” I ask, not trusting myself not to change my mind if we stand here any longer.
“Yea. Let’s go.” She steps away, grabbing her coat and bag as she lets out a big breath, and I gesture toward the door.
“After you.”
Out in the corridor, she’s locking up, and I can’t help a slight laugh.
“I’m not going to drop them this time, if that’s what you’re thinking,” she says.
“I didn’t say anything,” I shoot back, grinning.
Outside, a gentle snow is falling in soft, lazy flakes. It’s not settling, but it does add a kind of magic to the evening. The temperature is icy but manageable – or maybe that’s just the heat still searing my skin.
I reach for her hand and her fingers curl around mine like they belong there.
“I’m just down here,” I say, pointing to where my Audi is parked at the end of her street. As we approach, I step ahead to open the passenger door, the practiced movement as natural as breathing, and yet for some reason, it feels different this time. She slides in with a graceful ease, the hem of her dress rising up her thigh just alittle more, and the sight of her settling into the leather seat awakens something primal I’d sworn I buried long ago.
I inhale sharply and walk round to the driver’s side, using those few seconds to regain my composure. The car feels different with her in it – charged with possibility. Her perfume mixes with the leather interior, creating an intoxicating new scent I already know I’m going to associate with this night.
The drive to the restaurant is filled with light conversation. I tell her about my new project at work and how I’m planning to pitch a bold new direction with it, and she tells me about a prank Carter recently pulled on Stephen involving a fake HR e-mail and a mysteriously disappearing desk chair, which makes me laugh.
Every red light offers a dangerous opportunity to look at her fully, to watch the way her fingers absently trace patterns on her knee, to notice how she turns toward me when she speaks.
As we pass through the town centre, the city lights cast a romantic glow over the start of what I hope will be the perfect night.
Chapter 20
Lila
We pull into the car park of a pleasant looking building with a green sign that reads Meadow & Mill. The windows of the restaurant glow with a warm, inviting light and as we step out of the car, a rich, earthy aroma of a wood-fired stove fills the air.
My stomach grumbles as Marcus opens the door and follows me into the foyer, where a friendly-looking hostess greets us.
“Good evening, and welcome to Meadow and Mill. Do you have a reservation?”
“Yes, table for two, please, Andersson. And could you please let Chef Elliot know Marcus is here?” His voice is smooth and confident.
“Absolutely. Right this way.” We follow her through the restaurant to a cosy booth by a window, the aroma of fresh herbs and sizzling meats making my mouth water.
I pretend not to notice Marcus’s eyes glued to me as I take off my coat, but the butterflies in my stomach are doing gymnastics.
“I know I’ve already said it, but you really do look incredible,” he says, his eyes gleaming with admiration.
“Thank you. So do you.”
At that moment, a man approaches our table, wearing a white chef’s jacket and apron. He has a confident and warm energy to him and he smiles as soon as he spots us.
“Marcus! Good to see you, mate!”
Marcus stands up, pulling him in for a one-armed hug. “Hey, great to see you, Elliot. How’s everything?”
“Wonderful, can’t complain. Business has been great. Some incredible reviews coming in – all thanks to you, I’m sure. And Gemma’s been grand. Got a little one on the way now.”
“That’s fantastic, congratulations man!” Marcus says, patting him on the shoulder.