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R OWAN

When I got ready for work this morning, I had no idea I’d end up having dinner with Miles. Or that he’d ambush me at my vehicle after work. Had I known, I would have brought a change of clothes or at least checked my appearance in the bathroom mirror before I hightailed it out of work and headed to the parking garage.

I’m not mad about the surprise though. Miles is fun. He’s cute and funny. No, not cute. He’s way too good looking to be considered cute. But the boyish charm and the way he makes everyone laugh around him, even at his own expense, makes him cute in an overgrown boyish way.

Once we’ve placed our order at the hole-in-the-wall pizza joint, Miles guides us to an empty table in the far corner.

“Next time we’ll try your fancy weird pizza place.”

“Fancy weird?” I laugh as I take a seat across from him.

“I’m looking forward to you proving me wrong.” He stretches his legs and uncaps my iced tea before sliding it across the table for me.

“Thank you.” I eye him over the bottle and take a sip.

Miles fidgets in his seat, his gaze bouncing between my mouth and a spot on the wall over my right shoulder. He picks at the label of his lemonade and taps his fingers on the table. He’s uncharacteristically nervous.

Am I flattered he waited for me by my car and asked me to dinner? Yes. Am I wondering why he sought me out? Even more of a yes. There must be something bothering him to seek me out. There isn’t much I can do for him that anyone else in his life can’t.

If it’s medical attention, even though he calls me Doc, he knows I’m just a pediatric nurse. My shifts in the ER were eye-opening and taught me more than I’d ever learn in a classroom.

“Order sixty-nine,” the girl behind the counter calls.

“They’re calling our number.” Miles gives me his signature grin and winks before he gets up.

When he returns with our extra-large hand-tossed loaded pizza and basket of fries, all signs of nervousness are gone and conversation flows easily.

“How does this pizza measure up to your high standards?” he asks as he reaches for his fourth slice, while I dab my mouth with my napkin after finishing my first.

“High standards?” I chuckle. “I’m not a pizza snob, but I like trying different combinations of food. I don’t eat out often, because it’s expensive, but when I do, I like ordering something I don’t normally eat at home. And then I challenge myself by trying to create the dish.”

I reach for a second slice. My thighs will hate me for it, but I’m hungry.

“What’s your signature dish?” Miles asks.

“Signature dish? It’s not like I cook for royalty.” I pick up the slice of pizza and bite the end as a string of cheese sticks to my chin.

Miles reaches across the table and drags his finger along my jawline, then wraps the cheese around his finger. “But you enjoy cooking?” He brings his finger to his mouth and licks the cheese off it.

My eyes grow wide and unfamiliar tingles flutter between my legs as I watch his tongue glide along his bottom lip. It must be the extra calories going to my thighs.

“Rowan?” The deep timbre of his voice has me blinking away my lust.

“Mm. What was that?”

“Cooking. You enjoy it?”

I nod. “You could say it’s my love language. I’ve always loved cooking and baking, and it makes me happy to do that for others.”

He dips a fry into ketchup and points it at me. “What’s the most complicated dish you’ve ever made?”

“Hm.” I take a bite of pizza and chew while I think. “I guess baklava. I mean, it’s not overly complicated but it’s time consuming. And delicious, if you have a sweet tooth.”

“I do, and I’ve never had it before. What makes it so complicated?”

“You’ve never had baklava?” I gasp dramatically and point my crust at him. “You deprived soul. And you call yourself a food connoisseur.”

“I never called myself that.” He chuckles.

“Um, excuse me.” I clear my throat and lower my voice, trying to sound like him, “Trust me, you’ll love Papa Roni’s. If there’s one thing I’m an expert in, it’s food.”

Miles rolls his shoulders back and puffs out his chest. “There’s something else I’m good at.”

His eyes turn dark and I struggle to swallow the bite of pizza in my mouth. Before my mind can go too far in the gutter, he changes his tone to light and friendly.

“Tell me I was wrong about Papa Roni’s. Is this not the best hand-tossed pizza you’ve ever had?”

I bite the inside of my cheek to hold back my smile. The pizza is good. The crust, light and airy. Not too saucy. A good ratio of cheese, veggies, and bacon. But it isn’t anything unique.

“It’s okay.”

“Okay?” He drops the fries he was about to cover in ketchup and pushes them to the side. “Prove me wrong then, Doc. I’ll pick you up from work tomorrow and you can try to do better.”

“Challenge accepted.”

“Good.” He gives me a curt nod, then reaches for the fries with a devilish grin on his face. “See what I did there?”

I narrow my eyes on him. “What did you do?”

“I got you to agree to a second date with me.”

I shake my head and laugh. “This isn’t a date and neither will tomorrow be.”

It can’t be. It will be too easy to fall for Miles, and too easy for him to break my heart.

I’m the one everyone likes to be friends with because they don’t feel threatened. The one the guys on the team can flirt with and know nothing will come of it because they don’t see me that way. I’m the sister they want to protect, and I see that in Miles as well.

He’s always been protective of me and has never flirted with me the same way he does with others. He doesn’t talk dirty to me. Unfortunately.

Even now, teasing about our dinner being a date, I know he doesn’t really mean it. If he did, he would have changed into something more...date worthy. He would have asked me out, given me a chance to wear normal clothes.

“Regardless of what you want to call it, you scored yourself dinner two nights in a row with one of Boston’s most sought after bachelors. You can call yourself one lucky lady.” Miles picks up our trash and loads it on the tray before carrying it to the counter.

I drop our bottles in the recycle bin and wait for him by the door. He keeps his hand on my lower back as we walk back to my car. Once again, he takes charge, opening the passenger door for me. When he heads north instead of south toward the parking garage where he left his car, I turn down the music.

“You missed the turn.”

“Sorry about that. What’s the best route to your place?”

“My place?” Warmth fills my chest and that odd sensation between my legs comes back again. He couldn’t possibly want to go back to my place and... “I thought we were going back to your car.”

“They don’t call me a lady’s man because I’m a rude scoundrel, Doc. Proper etiquette requires me to deliver my lady friend back to her castle at the end of our date. ”

“Miles. Don’t be silly. I live twenty minutes away, and it will take even longer than that for you to take the train back to the garage.”

“Good thing I don’t have anywhere else to be.”

It’s strange how we can ride in comfortable silence and at the same time, how easy conversation flows between us. When we reach my apartment complex and he parks in my designated spot, he follows me to the front door of the building.

“Thank you for dinner and the ride.”

Miles smiles. “Usually when my date says the ride, she’s talking about something else.”

I shake my head and chuckle. “Well, good thing this wasn’t a date then.”

He takes the keys from my hand and unlocks the door, holding it open for me. “I’m walking you to your door, Rowan.”

The atmosphere grows thick with...something as we walk down the dingy hallway and take the concrete stairs to the third floor. When we’re standing outside my apartment, Miles braces his hand on the wall behind me, trapping me between his giant, hot body and the wall.

I tip my head and my heart skips a beat from the way he stares at me.

“I like spending time with you, Rowan.” He strokes the side of my jaw with the back of his fingers. “Thank you for having dinner with me tonight.”

As his head slowly lowers to mine, my breath catches in my throat. The drumming from my heart fills my ears and my panties are...soaked. All this and he hasn’t even kissed—

He touches his lips to mine in the softest, gentlest, feather-light kiss. His hands cup either side of my face, and as our lips meet for the first time, a soft warmth envelopes me in a delicate blend of anticipation and sweetness that seems to suspend in time. The sounds of my apartment building and the traffic outside fade away, leaving only the gentle brush of skin against skin, igniting a fluttering rush in my chest. My heart pulses with an electric thrill. The moment is filled with innocence and is over before I’m ready.

“Good night, Rowan.” Miles turns, and I stand in complete shock as I watch him disappear down the stairwell.

Holy crap. Miles Buckingham just kissed me.