Page 289

Voices fill the space, but they’re all indistinguishable in hushed tones. Just white noise in the chaotic restaurant.

Except one.

One breaks through my thoughts.

“Tate?”

My gaze returns to my dinner date, the dashing Mr. Decker. “Yeah?”

“You seem lost in thought. What’s on your mind?”

“Nothing.”

“Your mind is blank?” He smiles, so it’s easy to pick up on his joke despite the steadiness of his tone.

My cheeks heat, slightly embarrassed by my mental absence, and I laugh lightly. “No. I was just people watching.”

Reaching across the table, he covers my hand with his. This is the hand I want to hold, longer than tonight and tomorrow. Hoping . . . I don’t know what to hope for. He says, “I like to Tatum watch myself, but that’s a personal preference.”

Fuzzy thoughts on what I want or am doing, what will change if I’m pregnant and what will stay the same. I look at my untouched wine, a glass I ordered for cover, and then reach for my water glass instead.

“Yeah . . .” I take two big gulps, emptying it.Again.

“What’s going on?” He slides his full glass of water toward me without a second thought.

“Tatum watching. I get it. I like to watch you—shower, sleep, watching TV. I really like watching you cook.”

He sets his fork down and takes a heavy breath before asking, “What’s happening here? Did I do something wrong?”

“No.” I push my barely touched grilled tilapia away, knowing the few bites of that and the asparagus are all I can stomach. “It’s not you.” I turn my hand over, fingers wrapped around, and our palms pressed together.

“Then what is it? You don’t like the food or the restaurant?”

“I love this restaurant. You got everything right tonight, from the flowers to the food to that suit. If I haven’t told you, you look very handsome tonight.”

The side of his lips rises, and though it’s not a smirk, his smile’s gone rogue. He’s too attractive wearing his heart on his sleeve like he’s doing now. If I didn’t know him, I’d expect arrogance or even some braggy tales from the past.

I clearly misjudged him.

“Then what’s wrong?” he asks.

“Just stuff on my mind.” I don’t want the attention on me. I hate it sometimes despite my reputation.

“Please talk to me.”

How can I not share but still expect him to be open with me?

I can’t.

I made a pact with myself the night before he left to treat him how he treats me, so I take a breath and open my mouth. “I stood up to Mr. Daly today after he touched my hand inappropriately. I’ve not been feeling my best today, and nobody’s said a word about my birthday this week when Natalie and I have usually been planning it for a month. Also, I have no idea where in the world my parents are because I haven’t heard from them since Natalie’s anniversary party. The last few weeks I had with you were the best I’ve had in years because of a man I spent years hating.” I sag in my chair, exhausted. “Then it felt like we shifted back to square one when you left for almost a week. But worst of all, the tilapia had no flavor.”

“I’m sorry about your birthday. I wonder if she’s been a bit distracted with her pregnancy, and the awesome suggestions her brilliant sidekick has suggested for STJ?”

I smile, because he could be right. She has had a lot on her mind. Tossing all manners aside, I rest my elbow on the table and my chin in my hand. “Honestly, my birthday has been the last thing on my mind. Call it age or maturity or too much other stuff to worry about, but I’m not upset about not having plans yet. Everything just seemed off while you were gone. I was busy as usual, but I don’t know.”

A server refills the water glasses and then leaves. “I’m flattered to hear I was missed, but I don’t want you sad.” Harrison asks, “Did I catch that you’re not feeling well or just a bad day?”

Sitting up, I had hoped to blend that in with the rest a little better and wished he hadn’t heard it at all. “My stomach is just a little off. That’s all. I don’t think I made a good choice for dinner with that going on.”