Page 30

He stepped closer, his voice lowering like it did when he wanted to get past my defenses. “You’ve done plenty. More than anyone could’ve asked. You’ve earned oneevening where you don’t have to think about gunshots or blood or anything but the taste of something good.”
I looked down at my bare feet, then back up at him, brow raised. “What exactly do you have in mind?”
He smiled—just enough to make my heart skip. “There’s a place on Shem Creek called The Painted Crab. Best seafood in the county. View’s not bad either.”
“I don’t need fancy.”
“It’s not fancy.” His eyes dragged over me slowly, not in a disrespectful way—more like he was memorizing me. “But I’ll still spoil you.”
The words hit low in my stomach, warm and dangerous. I wasn’t used to being pursued like this. Not by someone who knew exactly what he wanted—and made it clear that it was me.
“I’m not saying yes,” I said, even though I already kind of had.
He grinned. “You didn’t say no, either.”
I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t even have time to get ready.”
“You’ve got time,” he said smoothly. “I’ll run home, clean up, change into something respectable. You do the same. And I’ll pick you up from your place. Say six?”
I hesitated, my heart thumping like it had a mind of its own. “You know where I live?”
“I’ll get the address,” he said. “Unless you’re about to back out.”
“I didn’t say that.”
He took a step back, all confidence and that subtle charm that felt like it had been forged in fire. “Then it’s settled. You text me your address, and I’ll be there by six sharp. Doesn’t matter where you live. I’d drive to the other side of the state for you.”
My mouth went dry. “You don’t have to?—”
“I want to,” he cut in, firm. “Let me do this, Hallie Mae. Let me take you out. Feed you something that doesn’t come wrapped in foil. Make you laugh, maybe even forget about last night for five minutes.”
The part of me that still flinched at how easily he’d touched me—kissed me—wanted to say no.
But the part of me that hadn’t stopped thinking about him since that kiss?
She said yes before I even opened my mouth.
I nodded, slow. “Okay. But just dinner.”
His grin deepened. “Just dinner. For now.”
He started to turn, then paused, pulling his phone from his back pocket and holding it out. “Give me your number, unless you want me knocking on every door in Mount Pleasant till I find the right one.”
I narrowed my eyes, but the corner of my mouth tugged up anyway. “You’d do that, wouldn’t you?”
“Without hesitation.”
I took the phone, ignoring the heat in my cheeks, and typed my number in, handing it back.
He grinned, tapped a few times, then held it out again. “Now you’ve got mine, too. Text me later—unless you want me hunting you down.”
I glanced at the screen—his number already saved—then gave him a look. “Don’t abuse it.”
“No promises,” he said, smirking. “I answer on the first ring—unless I’m bleeding.”
I arched a brow. “Comforting.”
He gave me one last look, eyes raking over me with a heat that almost knocked me sideways, then turned toward the truck.