Page 22

You can’t let her know.
If she finds out the truth,
Out the door she will go.
Blue Hill dims the lights in the evening at six o’clock sharp. The dinner atmosphere is romantic with lit candles on the tables, combined with the soothing sound of water flowing down the river rock wall next to the kitchen. The chatter from the other guests goes unheard as I sit here alone. The only sound that resonates with me is the clink of silverware and glasses as I wait for Jules to walk through the doors.
My fingertips brush over the silver tines of my salad fork as I stare straight ahead toward the entrance and maître d’. Multiple guests have arrived since I sat down twenty minutes ago, each one catching my attention and disappointing me. I glance down at my watch again. She still has five minutes until she’s late.
I make a habit of being early, but I’m regretting it this time. Every minute that passes makes me more eager to leave. Curiosity is the only thing keeping me here in my seat. The door opens and the soft cadence of heels clicking on the slate floor echoes in the large open space.
She’s here.Jules slips her gray wool peacoat off her shoulders when she walks in and drapes it in her arms as she strides to the maître d’. I stand and button my suit jacket as I walk toward her. I’m only a few tables away and she sees me as the man asks her if she has a reservation.
“She’s with me.” My voice comes out deep, confident … possessive even. As she turns toward my voice, the hem of her plum-colored dress sways around her thighs. It’s tighter around her ass and waist, showing off her curves and reminding me how she looked beneath me last night.
“Of course,” the maître d’ says and nods.
“Thank you,” Jules answers sweetly, giving him a soft smile and looking back at me. It’s only a quick glance before a blush rises to her cheeks and she takes my hand.
She has a shy elegance about her, but there’s more to her than that. I want to dig a little deeper, if for nothing more than curiosity’s sake.
I gesture toward the table, pulling out her chair for her like a gentleman. It’s not in my nature, but I have enough manners to impress a woman at least.
“I’m surprised you wanted to see me again,” Jules says as I take my own seat. The confession sits between the two of us for a moment as I consider a response.
Before I can say anything, she adds, “Thank you, by the way.” Her eyes flicker from mine to the candle. I don’t miss how she takes a few glances around us as if she’s searching for someone.
I nod my head easily, setting my napkin in my lap and giving her a moment to get comfortable. The waiter quickly pours her a glass of water from the pitcher he’s holding.
“Good evening. May I start you off with something to drink?” The young man squares his shoulders and waits, holding the pitcher at attention. He’s dressed in a crisp white button-down and dark gray slacks that match his thin tie.
“A bourbon for me, please,” I say and wait for Jules. Her slender neck and shoulders are on display. The way the thin straps of her dress lay across the very edge of her shoulders taunt me to pull them down. A simple thin silver necklace sits right in the dip of her collarbone with the wordhappyetched in the middle. It’s the only piece of jewelry she’s wearing. No ring on her finger. I didn’t notice one last night either.
“A glass of chardonnay, please.”
“Right away,” the waiter says and nods, leaving us alone. Once again, Jules squirms uncomfortably. I love her nervousness and how she has a habit of tucking her hair behind her ear. It only adds to her innocence.
“No tequila?” I say, playing around with her to break the ice.
She huffs a small laugh and rolls her eyes. “No,” she says as she unfolds her napkin and moves it to her lap, smoothing it out. “No tequila tonight.”
I shrug, waiting for those soft baby blue eyes to look back up at me. “I didn’t mind the tequila.” I murmur the confession across the table. There’s not a damn thing dirty that I’ve said but she still blushes. There’s an attraction between us that’s undeniable. It’s easy and carefree. But the air is tense as she looks to her left again and then back to me.
She hesitates to say something, then changes her mind and clears her throat as she picks up the menu. She talks without looking at me. “I’ve never done anything like this.”
“Like what?”
“Like, seeing someone.”
“Is that what we’re doing?” I ask her. “Seeing each other?”
Jules puts her menu down and looks at me with a serious expression. “I have no idea.” The sincere answer and complete honesty in her voice force a rough laugh from my chest. I was only teasing her, but she’s too sweet and sincere to get a rise out of her.
“You can laugh all you want, but I have no clue what’s going on.” She picks her menu back up and says, “I’m just along for the ride, Mr. Thatcher.”
“Is that so?” I ask her playfully and reach for my glass of water when the waiter returns, setting down my drink first and then hers.
“It is,” she says, smiling into her glass and taking a sip of the white wine. She closes her eyes and lets out the softest moan of satisfaction that’s barely audible. My cock hardens as I remember last night, the same sweet sound slipping from her lips as I thrust into her over and over again.