Page 7 of Ghosted (The Ravenwood #1)

“Maybe a little. Can I get the short answer?” I take a sip of my hot chocolate and sigh.

All is right with the world. If it wouldn’t rot my teeth from my skull, I’d drink Misha’s hot chocolate all the time.

It’s sweet, but not overly so, and has a complexity of flavors that is hard to pin down.

Not to mention it’s the perfect thickness. Divine.

“Well, since my charm is working, I guess I can do that.” He pauses to think it over, taking a sip from his own to-go cup of hot chocolate. “Holy shit. This is the best thing I’ve ever put in my mouth,” he says, staring down at the cup like it just solved all of his problems.

“I know, right?” I nod and tap my cup against his.

“Okay, the short answer is that my great-grandpa was a lawyer. And ever since, every man in my family became a lawyer. Other than Adam and Luke, anyway. I’m in the same practice as my dad, actually.

He and my grandpa founded it. Some went into different sectors, but being a lawyer was non-negotiable. ”

“Until Adam,” I clarify.

“Right. Until him. When he decided he didn’t want to do it, and then encouraged Luke to follow in his footsteps… Well, it was impossible for me to ignore the pressure. I’m a chronic people pleaser,” he says with a rueful smile.

“I have a chronic desire to be helpful, if it’s any consolation,” I offer. I don’t want him to feel like he’s the only one opening up. We can probably relate more than he thinks. While my Gift isn’t exactly a choice, I’m following in the footsteps of more ancestors than I can even conceive of.

“Two peas in a pod,” Dean says, placing his arm along the back of the couch. It’s barely skimming my shoulders, but the intent is clear. While the move is very high school, I have to say it’s working for me.

“Smooth,” I say, gesturing to his arm. He grins in a way that shows off the slight dimple in his left cheek again, and brings his arm fully around my shoulders.

He looks at me with his brows raised in question, but rather than answer, I lean my head against the crook of his shoulder.

I bask in his warm, clean scent and the feel of his expensive jacket against my cheek.

His hand brushes softly up and down my shoulder, and I feel content for the first time in a while.

We sit there like that for a while in companionable silence, sipping our hot chocolate.

I’m amazed by the fact that I’m not feeling the desire to fill the quiet.

I’m not nervous at all anymore. The urge to tell him my biggest secret has also faded.

It’s like my brain knows the time will come when it’s necessary.

I’m allowed to just enjoy this date. Wren is right again, dammit.

“As much as I’m not ready for the night to end, I have to get going,” Dean says quietly after we polish off our hot chocolates. He doesn’t move his arm, but loosens it a bit so I can look at him. “I have to get into the office kind of early tomorrow.”

“On a Sunday?” I ask.

He rolls his eyes. “I know. I hate it. One of my firm’s biggest cases to date is set to go to trial mid-week next week, and we’re sort of all-hands-on-deck.

There’s a rumor that whoever provides the most useful evidence could be in line for a promotion to partner.

” It sounds like a good thing, but the way he says it is less than enthusiastic.

“Is that something you want?” I ask.

I feel more than hear his sigh. “Isn’t a promotion what everyone wants? ”

I decide not to pry into his non-answer.

We don’t know each other well enough yet for me to figure out if he’s the type to enjoy someone prodding for more information.

I also don’t want to seem like I’m upset that he has to work tomorrow.

For all my talk of being freaked out by the mention of anniversaries, I definitely can’t pull the “don’t go to work, stay with me” card on the first date.

“Okay, I totally understand,” I say, gently disentangling myself from his side. We both stand and stretch, a bit stiff from sitting in the same position for a long time.

“Where’d you park? I’d like to walk you to your car,” he says, grabbing my cup from me so he can throw it away.

We head outside after waving to Misha, instantly chilled thanks to the cool night air. “I didn’t,” I say, “I live just across the street.” I point to The Veil.

“You live in your aunt’s store?” he asks.

“On top of it, actually. There’s a studio apartment. I’ve lived there since I moved out of my parents. Rent is free, so I can’t complain.”

“Man, talk about an easy commute,” Dean says with a laugh.

“I know, it’s pretty sweet.” We cross the street and walk down the small alley, slowing as we come to the stairs leading up to my place. We stop beneath a streetlight, and I say unnecessarily, “Well, this is me.” I gesture lamely to the rickety staircase.

“I had a great time, Rae. Thank you for going out with me and not using the mace at your earliest opportunity,” he jokes.

“Thought about it,” I say primly.

He smirks in response and reaches out to tuck an errant strand of hair behind my ear. His hands are a little cold, but that’s not what makes me shiver. “When can I see you again?” he asks, stepping closer so we’re almost toe to toe.

I look down before flicking my eyes up to meet his. I worry my lip between my teeth, watching him track the motion. How do I respond in a way that doesn’t seem desperate but still enthusiastic?

Ugh, why is this stuff so hard for me?

Finally, I settle on, “Soon. Let me know when you’re free. I work most days, but we can figure something out.”

“I’m pretty busy with this case through the end of the week, but I think that by next weekend things will settle a bit.

Even if they don’t, I’m happy to meet you for dinner.

I don’t want my stupid schedule to be the reason I don’t see you again.

” My heart thuds irregularly at that. I knew it was going well, but to have him confirm so plainly is reassuring.

“Next weekend then,” I say with a smile.

He holds out his arms for a hug, and I step into them without hesitation.

I squeeze his middle and rest my cheek against his chest. We stay there for a breath or two, and then we both start to pull away.

Before he fully lets me go, he presses a gentle kiss to my forehead that I feel all the way to my toes.

I snake my hands up behind his neck and impulsively pull him in until our lips meet.

The plush feel of them moving against my own is intoxicating.

He drags me closer and angles his head to give me more.

He licks at my lower lip playfully, and I open with a gasp.

His taste floods me, and it’s like I’m drinking the world’s best cup of hot chocolate again.

Only this time, there’s a hint of Dean—even more delicious.

After a few of possibly the best seconds of my life go by, I pull away slowly.

He chases my mouth down for one final kiss, making me laugh.

“I’m definitely seeing you next weekend,” he says. “Or even sooner if I can swing it.” He presses his forehead to mine for a beat and then pulls back to peck my nose, the warmth of his kiss-swollen mouth a shock against my icy skin.

I smile at him and step back, knowing if I don’t leave now, I’ll invite him up and he’ll probably say yes. I don’t want to be the reason he doesn’t get this promotion, even if his feelings on the matter seem complicated at best.

“Text me,” I say, walking backwards up the first few steps.

“I will, sweetheart,” he says. I can feel his attention on me like a hand on the small of my back the whole way up the steps.

When I get to the landing, I unlock my door and wave one last time.

I catch sight of his dimple before ducking inside.

My phone buzzes inside my purse, and I pull it out, curious if Wren is badgering me for details already.

Dean:

I’m so glad we got to go out.

I have to laugh because wow, that was quick. The man knows how to follow directions. I type out a reply right away, so he’ll walk to his car. I don’t want him freezing out there waiting for a response.

Rae:

Me too. See you soon. Goodnight, Dean.

Goodnight, sweetheart.