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“This dinner or dessert?” he asked, his eyes shooting down south as he said the word dessert . Way to be subtle, Red. Then as though that was normal first date conversation, he cut a piece of asparagus in his dish and took a bite.

Meanwhile, I swallowed. Hard. See, now that was a hard decision. Had he made anything else in the world or actually sucked at cooking, then there would be a very clear winner. Now I wasn’t too sure. “Maybe if your balls were waxed. . . .”

A roar of laughter erupted from him and he shook his head. “We both know you love my balls just the way they are.”

I tilted my head back and forth and gave him a lopsided smile. “I’m not too sure. I have a pretty bad memory. Drop your pants and let’s see.”

He glared up at me, his eyes a darker blue hue as he grew intense. “Don’t tease me because I’ll do it.”

“At the dinner table?” I acted shocked, as though I would have actually given a rat’s ass where he decided to drop his pants.

He grunted, his voice thick with emotion as he answered, “Yes. I’d even fuck you on the table if you’d let me, but only after I ate my favorite meal.”

Oh, geez, why me? I was tempted. So very tempted. But I think I actually wanted this whole dinner date experience. “Another time.” Then I went back to eating, knowing this meal, while extremely good, had nothing on licking his balls and taking his dick in my mouth.

Silence filled the air as we continued eating. I didn’t know about him, but I was having trouble thinking straight. “You can’t stop thinking about it, can you?”

“What?” I was caught off guard by his boldness, not that I was sure why.

We were both extremely bold people who didn’t care to have a filter when we were around each other.

It was honestly one of the hottest things I’d ever shared with the opposite sex.

“What?” I repeated, wanting to hit myself upside the head. “No.”

“Now I have my answer,” he replied smugly.

Was he right? Yes.

Did I want to wipe that cocky look right off his face? Duh.

“Why don’t we talk about the seven deadly sins,” I said, changing the topic and taking things in an entirely different direction. Ha! There you go. Conversing about sins should definitely take my mind off his junk.

What was that? Brilliant idea, Jade. Oh, why, thank you.

He cleared his throat. “What about them?” he asked, extending for his glass.

“Which one would you say you commit the most?”

It was a pretty good question actually. A great way to judge the man you were with. Take notes, friends, I was helping you.

“Greed.” Red shrugged, as though not fazed by any of this or afraid to admit to it.

“Interesting.” It actually was. “Why do you say that?”

“I’m a very greedy fucking man, Jade. You should know that by now.”

My cheeks heated up so much you could have warmed dinner on them.

He took another sip of his wine before setting it back down.

“I want everything and I don’t like settling for less.

I want Lyons Enterprises to be the biggest company in the world.

I want to be one of the wealthiest men because of it and all the hard work I’ve put into it.

And I want a woman right there by my side, someone to come home to.

I don’t just want her to celebrate my successes, though.

I want to celebrate hers. I want her to love her job, be great at what she does, be motivated, but also independent and not afraid to say it like it is. ”

Sounded like me.

“Then one day I want a family. I want kids who I spend time with because the company is practically running itself. I don’t want them to think that I ever chose work over them. But I also don’t want to choose them over work.” Okay, so he clearly wasn’t done.

I swallowed past a thick lump in my throat. “That’s some answer.”

He rubbed the back of his neck. “Yeah, probably more than you were looking for, but that’s the truth.”

Clearing my throat, I raised a brow. “This woman, what’s she like exactly?”

“You mean, what am I looking for in a future wife?”

Sure, well, when he put it like that. . . . I nodded, unable to get words out.

Grinning now, he appeased me. “She’d be a real ball buster, but have a heart of gold, and be smart as a whip. And we’d have off-the-charts chemistry that would make me want to do nothing all day but lie in bed with her and make love to her.”

All righty then. I wasn’t sure about him, but I was sweating. Was the stove still on? Maybe it was making the house hot. It didn’t make any sense, but just go with it, okay?

I brought a hand to my clammy neck, my heart beating rapidly. “I’m going to go check to see if the air is on,” I said, clearing my throat.

He placed his hand on the table and looked me square in the eyes. “Stay.”

That was a dog command, but fine, I’d listen because honestly I wasn’t positive that my legs would get me far anyway.

“I want to make a toast,” he said, reaching for his glass and picking it up.

Staring into his eyes, I didn’t ever want to look away but made an exception to pick up my glass.

“To pleasant surprises.” He clanked his with mine when he realized my hand wasn’t moving and my eyes were glued to his.

I had to break contact.

It was the only way.

But it didn’t seem possible.

Blinking, I forced myself to do it. Wine usually wasn’t strong enough to make me feel dizzy, which was good because I didn’t need to feel any more off kilter than I already did. I brought the glass to my lips and drank.

A piece of me, a very small sliver, wanted to say something snarky and sabotage this, ruining the moment. I ignored it, though, instead asking, “If you can cook like this, why do you have a chef?”

He laughed, picking sauce up with his ravioli. “Let’s not get carried away. I only know a few simple dishes, and they mostly consist of pasta.”

I licked my lips, making sure I didn’t have any remnants of cheese on them because he was staring at them now. “I don’t know what that’s about, either, but same. I can make pasta, but anything else, and it’s safest to order takeout. Even pasta dishes are touch and go sometimes.”

He took a bite and shook his head. “We should take cooking classes.”

“Together?”

“Yeah. I think they have couples’ ones. Could be fun.”

Was it wrong of me to actually be enjoying the fact that he brought something like that up with me? It was the first time anyone had cared enough to plan something with me, for us to do together. As sad as that was.

It almost felt like he was planning for after all of this, which I knew wasn’t possible, but it still made me feel good. I had butterflies in my stomach when I thought about it in that way.

I looked up and smiled, only to catch him already looking at me again. More specifically, my lips. “Do I have food on my mouth?” I asked, suddenly self-conscious as I went to wipe the back of my hand across my lips.

He shook his head and leaned forward, his eyes moving between them and my eyes. Attentive. Caring. Generous. Sorry, I was just thinking of the qualities I thought of when I thought of Red. He was all of those things.

Following suit, I leaned forward.

Swallowing, he placed his thumb on my chin. “Is it appropriate to ask for a kiss in the middle of the date?” he asked, a soft demeanor to him that had my heart clenching in my chest. Why did Red have to be such a great guy?

“We’re already engaged, so I don’t think it counts,” I answered in a low voice, hoping whatever spell had been cast over us didn’t break.

He smiled in response, pulling my lower lip away from my upper one, so I gladly parted them for him, a light breath escaping. It was an unsteady one, but I wasn’t sure why because we’d kissed before. We’d done a lot of things before.

Yet with him, things always felt like the first time. They felt exciting and new. He made me feel like I was floating on a cloud at times like this. Maybe it was true what they said—to be cautious of billionaires because they knew how to make a woman feel like a million bucks.

Right before they broke their heart and stomped on the pieces so they were impossible to put back together.

No. I ignored the negative thoughts in my head, trying my best to silence them.

Red wasn’t like that. He was different.

I leaned in more and closed my eyes, so ready for our lips to touch so I could taste him.

Suddenly, a phone rang. More specifically, mine. It was my signature ringtone that made me sure.

I looked to the door. It was in my purse, and my instincts told me get up and run.

This is your chance to get away. To keep your shit together before you get in too deep.

But another part of me acknowledged that my feet suddenly felt like they were weighed down with sandbags.

I couldn’t seem to drag myself away from the table.

Finally, Red spoke, his warm breath hitting my lips with the close proximity we were in to each other. “You can get that if you want.”

My gaze shot to him. Should I? Would I? Could I? My mind was spinning until my instincts finally won out. “Yeah, okay. Thanks. It could be an emergency,” I said lamely and backed up.

Red nodded, his expression stoic. He was pissed.

Want to know a secret, though?

So.

Was.

I.